Projection
Years I have waited - so long.
Discoveries, and experiences, almost weightless in front of you.
Already torrents of everything pour onto me, overwhelmingly.
My hands are shaking; is it the dope?
Or is it a tickling , pulsating energy running on my skin - body shaking - at the thoughts of you, and the potential us?
Nope; it's definitely the dope, I can feel my joints aligning.
As I dislocate my fingers, my wrists, my elbows - Bursting Bubbles of Universe - an entire narrative erupts in-between my bones:
What makes it so, that we must always contemplate the imponderables?
Forever comparing, contrasting, belittling ourselves.
Does a tree mind the color, composure, or height of other fellow trees?
Are there floating ideals of epitomical trees residing in the genes of currently contemporary trees?
Savage destruction, running amok amidst the chaotic clarity that is an enlightened life.
Where do one's loyalties lie?
To oneself or a family name,
To a dream or someone else's,
To a leap of faith, or to destiny.
Isn't it so?
That we cannot stride forward without a path, without a goal, without an end?
Why, and since when have we stopped indulging in the means?
I want to share this process of mine, I want to open up and snap wide open the characteristics of my reality.
Let go of your disguise.
But the caption "Millenial." comes to mind.
It makes me want to cry.
In the distance I see a father, running, and blowing soap bubbles at the same time,
While four little girls chase after.
Will that ever be mine?
Could this be our dream?
Or is it but another twisted fantasy of the perverted, self-indulged, self-entitled mind?
He thought it was inherently strange, that after only ten days of withdrawal, and despite having listened to this album already several times, it only now took its fullest shape and form. The ending track 'Ohara' looped back perfectly to the very first one, named 'Some Kind of Up and Down Yes'; ensuring a hypnotic loop that allowed him to let go of his surroundings, and to welcome in the promised land.
He dreamnt; right there on the spot, about her and about his future. It was vividly, painfully beautiful.
The sort of potently realistic, uncannily fully-content life that always seemed so ever impossibly out of bounds to him.
Marrying you on the spot, writing my depiction of our absolute each waking, and sleeping moment.
It would allow for so many opportunities,
to explore this life and all others.
For the better or worse, It would be life research for a tale of life.
But what say you - oh angel,
Of immaculate impurity, of composed confusion, of vernacular vision,
Will you grant me the privilege of consistently and inconsistently decaying by your side?
(...)
Will you?
Will you?