-------------
Faced with the unutterable, words still disintigrate...
And ever new, out of the most quivering stones, music builds her divine house in useless space.
-Rilke
-------------
|
|
| |
|
|
| |
|
I am moody.
|
[I am not very good at html]
|
|
|
sometimes i wish... [a blog]
|
|
| |
Sunday, May 26, 2002
"Jesus wept"
you know, if a la bamba record got stuck and then got magically transformed into something out of ricky's mind it might sound like:
lalalalalalalalalalalallama
sometimes loneliness is better than imaginary friends
sometimes is key i think. sometimes i would rather have imaginary friends. illusion is gentler than reality.
i am am am am am am am am am am am am static.
and yes. my record player is temporarily dysfunctional.
and time in the studio sucks out your life. if i were in charge of it, i would get nothing done. i would be much too distracted by toys. toys. toys.
so many possibilities if i could narrow my focus for a moment.
so many songs drift through my consciousness. so many musical creations that will never be made. by the time i sit down to do one, usually only one i half-like is in my head and by the time i get part of it done i lose the rest.
i hate memory. i hate my mind. ugh. i need to seek help i think. if i can hold out till college, i get it for free. residential pyschiatric aid. sure it might not be what i need. it's better than nothing? pills pills pills. pills. pills. pills.
i think they could be good for me.
could.
be good.
could.
be good.
a father to a child.
a beating.
it might help except when always.
but that's not in the brain.
trained.
to release.
explode.
on target.
off target.
ripping naievete to dust.
damn language.
spelling.
words.
thoughts.
pictures.
media.
portraits.
problems.
back to real world a39.5fg78889.
"...how sweet the sound"
9:43 PM
|
|
| |
|
|
|
