Tuesday, November 27, 2012

FUTURE FOE SCENARIOS

We're in her car... and we're driving somewhere, forever, and we're listening to her music, her music that is our music, and is my music, but is now my music and her music. We're listening to Silversun Pickups (but only Carnavas, we don't like Swoon as much) and Fitness Forever (some French band she likes). We're listening to Yeasayer, and we're listening to Best Coast, and when the song is over we do a little acapella duet together, she's singing in key When I'm with you, I have fun, yeah when I'm with you, I have fun and we're laughing and I'm singing out of key Yeah when I'm with youuuu, I have fuuuuun, yeah when I'm with youuuuuu I have fuuuuuun but I'm drum-drum-drumming away on my knees, keeping time and doing leg-snare rolls when the silences call for it, and we're laughing and it's so much fun and I love her so much.

I look over at her and I lean over and I kiss her cheek, and it's soft and smooth and warm and so I kiss it again, and again, and again, and again, so much that she's laughing, and blushing, and asking what I'm doing, but I just tell her that I Love Her and she says “I love you too,” and I'm happy. And we're listening to The Measure [SA] and Vampire Weekend and the Aladdin Soundtrack (Prince Ali is my favourite) and we listen to Island In The Sun by Weezer over and over on my behest because it makes me happy, and we're listening to Explosions In The Sky and Modest Mouse and the light is blinding, and brilliant, and soft, and beautiful.

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From a year ago.

Thursday, November 22, 2012

23/11

And it's the thinking man that has to carry the weight of the world on his brow. Always, always, always, life is staving off the evil thoughts, the bad thoughts, the depression, the Big. Black. Dog. On your shoulders, on your forehead. I watched bees play among flowers in a sunlit glade, I watched the skinny limbs of small children as they bounced balls and laughed, my eyes followed the legs of some girl in short shorts up, up, up. Death comes, oh yes, and what is life in the meantime? Life is harsh, life is mean time. The sun shines and the bees collect pollen regardless, flying as if on puppet strings, hovering forever in frozen moments. My brain hurts, my heart yearns, my dick aches. Every girl is the same and everyone is special. I laugh, often, at my own pathetic nature, my typical mammalian behaviour and thought patterns. It only ends once, I suppose. In the meantime, there are books, and video games and music and all that good jazz. Life! How bizzarre and strange. I have said this before and I'll say it again. Life!