Nightfall is our Downfall

We maintain the semblance of some kind of functional joy. Real joy sometimes even, as long as the daylight hours suspend us. Nightfall's embrace is less forgiving. With it comes wine, come dark liquors that are meant to quell our spirits but just boil our blood. And everything that we ignore daylight in and daylight out, comes in bursts and painful words and violence. We are both exposed, laid bare. Often I lay myself bare, and am trampled on. Or so it feels. We are different people. Think differently, live differently, choose differently. And the night brings out everything we have been holding back. The beautiful, horrific beasts of our true selves - the other half, without which we would not be who we are - are let loose and reap their revenge in the hazy dark when our toxin-pumped blood would smother the memories of what takes place into a blur. And we lose all reference points, all specific the moments, words, instances to later bring up clearly, "I'm reacting to what you said on x date, at y time, during z conversation, because it made me feel like w." Instead what we have is a buildup of rough emotional references. The emotions aren't rough (in the sense of approximate) they are quite precise, sharp to cut like a violent blade because of their unfocused weight and inertia. We swing them like battle axes, without precision, without much thought to the repercussions they will and do create. And we do this, night, after night, after night, after night, after night, after night, after night, after night, after night

Nightfall is our downfall. And unless we collect our thoughts into clarity, we will will continue to swing battle axes, and open gaping wounds deeper than intended, and in places more fatal than intended. And one of those days, one of us will bleed out.

I will love you, and I will waste away doing it

I love you. I love you so much that it is probably to the detriment of my spirit, and I will always prefer you sleeping in bed with me, feeling your skin and hearing your breath, to you being elsewhere. I love waking in the middle of the night and feeling you there. It is a comfort of a primordial sort. When I wake in the night and you are not there, everything feels wrong.

I will love you, and I will waste away doing it. 

"I Restore Myself When I'm Alone"

Everyone needs a place of refuge inside of them, where they can go, and rebuild themselves, when the world doesn't go there way.

Some have them so strong they can actually enter a place of self-celebration.
Some have them so strong they go past self-celebration, and into self-indulgence, sometimes causing harm to those around them.
Some have none at all, and can do nothing but cower in a corner when they feel that pain of the world not going the way they would like.

Collarbones

No pain

I Let Love In

- Nick Cave

Despair and Deception, Love's ugly little twins
Came a-knocking on my door, I let them in
Darling, you're the punishment for all of my former sins


I let love in
I let love in


The door it opened just a crack, but Love was shrewed and bold
My life flashed before my eyes, it was a horror to behold
A life-sentence sweeping confetti from the floor of a concrete hole


I let love in
I let love in
I let love in
I let love in


Well I've been bound and gagged and I've been terrorized
And I've been castrated and I've been lobotomized
But never has my tormenter come in such a cunning disguise


I let love in
I let love in
I let love in
I let love in


O Lord, tell me what I done
Please don't leave me here alone
Where are my friends?
My friends are gone


O Lord, tell me what I done
Please don't leave me here alone
Where are my friends?
My friends are gone


I let love in
I let love in


So if you're sitting all alone and hear a-knocking at you door
and the air is full of promises, well buddy, you've been warned
Far worse to be Love's lover than the lover that Love has scorned


I let love in
I let love in
I let love in
I let love in
I let love in
I let love in
I let love in
I let love in

Riddle

"Three gods A, B, and C are called, in some order, True, False, and Random. True always speaks truly, False always speaks falsely, but whether Random speaks truly or falsely is a completely random matter. Your task is to determine the identities of A, B, and C by asking three yes-no questions; each question must be put to exactly one god. The gods understand English, but will answer all questions in their own language in which the words for 'yes' and 'no' are 'da' and 'ja', in some order. You do not know which word means which."

source

There are two ways to be fooled. One is to believe what isn’t true; the other is to refuse to believe what is true.

Just dark, smooth, heavy, sad. Like syrup without the sweetness.

Just rhythm without melody. Chorus without song. All without purpose. I don't know why we, those of us of contemporary society, do what we do.

There is so much more taking place beyond what we are willing to acknowledge, beyond what we are willing to see, to let in to our experience, and collectively we habitually simply fail to recognize it. By choice? Because we don't believe it? We don't want to see anything beyond our small insipid bubbles? Our tiny little material and materialist worlds? Other cultures and societies have, and do. Why am I stuck in this one? How have I ended up here?

I'm suffocating. The only relief I find is through music, through reading, and through art (drugs & alcohol too, but it's artificial relief not authentic, replaces a feeling I would have were I genuinely happy). Art allows us to see something magical, allows for the play of so many of the senses, provocative, comforting, disturbing. Sex has the power to do that too. To quote Murakami, and I think David Lynch said something similar, which is why sex always precedes some strange moment of transition in his films : "Sex is a key to enter a spirit. It's similar to dreams. Sex is like a dream when you are awake; I think dreams are collective. Some parts do not belong to yourself." 


I work 8-5, and it simply does not flow for me to live my life this way. 

This is what I feel like right now:

And this is how I feel about most people in general all the time, especially in large groups:

“I have just now come from a party where I was its life and soul; witticisms streamed from my lips, everyone laughed and admired me, but I went away — yes, the dash should be as long as the radius of the earth's orbit ——————————— and wanted to shoot myself.” - Kierkegaard

Hail to the Thief

I had forgotten how beautiful this album is.

What Is It You Plan To Do With Your One Wild And Precious Life?

absurdequations.tumblr.com

Painting

Long day full of stupidity and the doldrums. And finally, I got to create. But I missed being by my husband. He is so fucking gorgeous. I love that I am awake right now, 2:26 am, playing, creating, but I mourn that I am not in bed, feeling him breathe next to be.

This evening's creation, after 8 hours of work, and 3+ hours of GRE prep.

 

 

Invisible are the Nietzsche quotes written in the ribs, the texture, the layers. Still could use so much more. But not too bad for a most definite amateur.

I miss you boy. I'm coming to cuddle with you now. Thank you for letting me be me. 

_____________________________________________

Next day, 10:31 AM: I have no recollection of having written this. None. 

56 + 3.15

calendars change, clocks are set back.

I dreamt last night that the number 56 was going undergo a change, and have 3.15 units added to it.