softly pounding

"The picture you have in your mind of what you're about will come true."

(oh you already know who it is)

the end of the semester revealed itself today through shady pathways (finals and all can still alter the memories effectively). i took about an hour in the early morning by the banks, listening to music and staring at the ceiling of the world through layer of branches with those heart shaped leaves--oh even witnessed a crow taking a bath through the morning sprinklers--anyways, it was beautiful and quiet. then the day unrolled, and i got lost in the haze, but by the end of it it all turned out perfect--this was actually on my account the best semester i ever had in this school--the peace alone could have been enough, oh how sad i am that my world will be crowded again--the girl with the curls and my dear comrade are more than welcomed (in fact required insistently) to be back--but the rest--man all that confusion and needless drama again--oh well--

not to mention that i did truly fulfillat least parts of my craving through schoolwork, the best schedule turns out to be after all filled with classes of your like--not of your convenience--and the smart-sexy teacher who also have adorable curls declared today that he was to no longer teach regular courses, so i'm glad i reached there just in time.

anyways--so all's been well, and i am truly sorry to let this one pass, i am genuienly not this affectionate towards time spent, but this one was definetly well spent, and the people were right though not in a traditional way, and i was right, and world swirled around on its heels and chuckled.

anywho, we have full moon tonight, all is poetic in a sense, 4 days or so for the night of the muse--oh i almost forgot--you'll never know where you'll find pearls of all sorts--i was reading this piece on conservatism--i mean dead on cosnervatism--and the guy randomly began talking about friendship, and how it had to be cosnervative in the sense that it can not be changing constantly, you can't go through every butcher until you find the right meat for you, it's about the realtion itself and not its rewards--so i though to myself there lies you problem, a problem i do not know whether i can fix, but there should be some flaw in the progress of my emotions--them starting from genuine affection to concentrated obsession to anger to repulsion--and by repulsion i mean repulsion--and the other day another one of my conquests for the first time did to me what i've been doing to him for a year and a half now--stood a few steps back while i was speaking to a friend, as you do to a stranger--and it was odd, ufnamiliar, and sad--and the way the human transforms his/her rituals according to needs and changed--it's sad--obedience to all else, makes you wish you can change things, or wish to change them--but you can't--i can't either

it's all in the family--where you see love for the first time--where you are taught to love--and the way we love is the only way we are after all

i don't really know what else to say--half these things i never even thought i'd say tonight anyways--funny how thought chases thought

don't you dare assume i forgot about bob week--'course i haven't--but stupid sony's been ruining my rituals but who cares--celebration is in the air--with or without videos--

and about the quote--well--i'll take you up on that one, bob. we'll see. oh there's so much to see in the gentle brain of the youth convinced of untimely deaths!

Desolation Row

They’re selling postcards of the hanging
They’re painting the passports brown
The beauty parlor is filled with sailors
The circus is in town
Here comes the blind commissioner
They’ve got him in a trance
One hand is tied to the tight-rope walker
The other is in his pants
And the riot squad they’re restless
They need somewhere to go
As Lady and I look out tonight
From Desolation Row

Cinderella, she seems so easy
“It takes one to know one,” she smiles
And puts her hands in her back pockets
Bette Davis style
And in comes Romeo, he’s moaning
“You Belong to Me I Believe”
And someone says, “You’re in the wrong place my friend
You better leave”
And the only sound that’s left
After the ambulances go
Is Cinderella sweeping up
On Desolation Row

Now the moon is almost hidden
The stars are beginning to hide
The fortune-telling lady
Has even taken all her things inside
All except for Cain and Abel
And the hunchback of Notre Dame
Everybody is making love
Or else expecting rain
And the Good Samaritan, he’s dressing
He’s getting ready for the show
He’s going to the carnival tonight
On Desolation Row

Now Ophelia, she’s ’neath the window
For her I feel so afraid
On her twenty-second birthday
She already is an old maid
To her, death is quite romantic
She wears an iron vest
Her profession’s her religion
Her sin is her lifelessness
And though her eyes are fixed upon
Noah’s great rainbow
She spends her time peeking
Into Desolation Row

Einstein, disguised as Robin Hood
With his memories in a trunk
Passed this way an hour ago
With his friend, a jealous monk
He looked so immaculately frightful
As he bummed a cigarette
Then he went off sniffing drainpipes
And reciting the alphabet
Now you would not think to look at him
But he was famous long ago
For playing the electric violin
On Desolation Row

Dr. Filth, he keeps his world
Inside of a leather cup
But all his sexless patients
They’re trying to blow it up
Now his nurse, some local loser
She’s in charge of the cyanide hole
And she also keeps the cards that read
“Have Mercy on His Soul”
They all play on pennywhistles
You can hear them blow
If you lean your head out far enough
From Desolation Row

Across the street they’ve nailed the curtains
They’re getting ready for the feast
The Phantom of the Opera
A perfect image of a priest
They’re spoonfeeding Casanova
To get him to feel more assured
Then they’ll kill him with self-confidence
After poisoning him with words
And the Phantom’s shouting to skinny girls
“Get Outa Here If You Don’t Know
Casanova is just being punished for going
To Desolation Row”

Now at midnight all the agents
And the superhuman crew
Come out and round up everyone
That knows more than they do
Then they bring them to the factory
Where the heart-attack machine
Is strapped across their shoulders
And then the kerosene
Is brought down from the castles
By insurance men who go
Check to see that nobody is escaping
To Desolation Row

Praise be to Nero’s Neptune
The Titanic sails at dawn
And everybody’s shouting
“Which Side Are You On?”
And Ezra Pound and T. S. Eliot
Fighting in the captain’s tower
While calypso singers laugh at them
And fishermen hold flowers
Between the windows of the sea
Where lovely mermaids flow
And nobody has to think too much
About Desolation Row

Yes, I received your letter yesterday
(About the time the doorknob broke)
When you asked how I was doing
Was that some kind of joke?
All these people that you mention
Yes, I know them, they’re quite lame
I had to rearrange their faces
And give them all another name
Right now I can’t read too good
Don’t send me no more letters, no
Not unless you mail them
From Desolation Row

Desolation Row (Highway 61 Revisited)