Oh there's so much to talk about.
I'm back home. For good this time. I had really missed that feeling of being on your own turf, and i got out of the car last night and realized--for the first time in my life--the air smells different in the paradise city. I swear I'm telling you the truth, and it's not a bad smell--not of cheating and robbing and killing, something much different, something filled with anything, good or bad--life. the air in the city of mine smells like life.
I'm done with almost all the books--except the idiot, which i'll come around to it. i'm saving that for the last (don't ask me why.) My head's already crazy enough with Kerouac in the back, Dostoevsky in the corner, Dylan walking around with his guitar case and glasses. They're all trying to figure a way out of life, and i'm giving them full authority up there--maybe, if they uncover something, i'll get to see it then.
Anyways--oh by the way, I'm at the age of 20 now. I'm not celebrating my birthday this year, or the years to come unless i feel like i learnt something new, or met someone unique, or felt something i never felt before. i'm not counting the years anymore, but the experiences. I'm waiting for the laughing lions, they must come, right? we'll see how long that'll last...i really wasn't planning to say anything about the whole bday things, but this is like a recap of the past months, i suppose, so i let it loose. Moving on...
"But why talk," Nietzsche once wrote, "when no one hath my ears!" That I guess sums up my unfamiliarity to everyone in my life. I speak--too much at times--but I speak the part of me that appeals to their ears. Others, I can't spill out the way I want. I used to think it was my inability to explain, a whole summer taught me something else. There're ears everywhere, not that mine is better or worse than anybody's, they're just mine, you know. i like things that way. i accept things that way. and if somewhere, sometime, i meet people with my own ears, it'll be another day then. anyways (again)--
"why dont you learn to dance instead of looking for new friends? dont you know that all the friends have been taken?"--that was dylan, not Nietzsche, if it makes any difference.
One of the great things about the specialness of a birthday is that you do things that you haven't been able to do. Reading Tarantula for example. Yeap, we've been staring at each other for a long time now--me and Zimmerman--and i finally had the guts to take it in my hands. Can't say I understood much--but i saw so many things, you wouldn't believe it--all these images floated around and i had a conversation with him for better or worse. and i came across some of the most beautiful words i read in my life. and between the pig and the lawyer and the "destroyingly boring" man and arethe "with no goals, eternally single& one step soft of heaven" and all the rest, I found a few diamonds in the haze. I could talk about it all day, but it's a bit of a closed box, or it feels like it should be, like it should stay between me and zimmerman and no one else. You should know when to hush.
"how come youre so afraid to stop talking?"--good point.
you know what, if you put me to it, i'll keep rambling all day. i should start wrapping this up. "Catch Peter at morn--" Dostoievski speaks of an old proverb inside my head, a smile on his wise face, at the break of dawn of a rainy day, "if you give him the day to think, he'll begin to stink."
so long lovers.
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