This is my existence. I live parallel to myself. I wake up dreaming about reading the story in which I am an actor.
I wake up to a room which I inhabit furnished to the point of precision with the objects I inhabit.
I wake up in a body which I inhabit. I find myself at a confluence of strange events both at once entangled in a predetrmined web of actions and consequences and a particle-wave motion of light in which I am the only and prime mover.
I have a place for everything in my life as if a thousand pick-pockets have changed their minds and have returned to their unwitting victims to sew on a thousand pockets and to put back in that which was stolen.
Inspiration is hard to come by. Instead, a clinging to objects helps me go on to find a continuity, put words on a page, invent others but just keep moving without pausing to look while a part of me is that which looks being looked upon.
A sense of urgency is a rare find especially when brought about by such a mystical force as music composed to be eternal, the pivot of its own spectral universe, bound by its own slackness and formalism, rhythm, tone and motion, a perpetual need to go on, to never end, a pattern interveawing within pattern, a notion interweaving within a notion, emotions growing steadily and relentlessly like grass through earth and asphalt.
But how can one find a place to put his words in such a way that they will stay, will not change, will not shrivel, will not be gone, will be prepared for him when he returns ready and inspired to give them life?
After all, what is there? All there is to write but that incredible, intangible, beautiful moment that comes again and inspires. What can I do?
This is not an end in itself, this is a means. But what does it mean to be the means of something else, to realize that someone already made your words for you?
What do you do when you realize the limits of your vision, the telescoping longitude of your perception, the end result of your happiness, the motivation of your dreams, the failing point of your love, the restraint with which you practice that which you consider the most sincere and the revelations which you only allow yourself in words?
Make it flow. Yes, this is the same thing you've been looking for, for a long time now, this is the same sensation of the first orgasm, the first kiss, the first word and the first word down, which is often forgotten but not gone, never gone.
Yes, this is an incredible niche that separates this from the other days but already now I feel I am losing it because it is not mine though I can always come back to the pier to the cliff to the love and sit longing amd content like a pause in a roomful of people I know or a pause of typing that coincides with the music.
How does this work, how do these tonal differences twine and intertwine without repeating the obvious but repeating nonetheless, parallel to themselves, a different scale, but a similar heat and cold, the same feel?
One must reply when asked. One must stop when one dawdles but does not do. One must not be relative or relevant.
One must not discuss objects of time and space, object and place on relative plains of losses and gains, one must above all not pause. One must remember where one's inspiration lies, one must remember to mirror the self through one's eyes to irreverently rhyme rhythm and unpunctuate like a button left off a blouse on a hot accidental day, one must follow the natural flow of words.
One must learn to write less and think more and commit things to action less but to memory more, to action more but to memory less, both at once without knowing otherwise, without knowing better.
Above all, one must know when to stop.
Thanks for recommending Yann Tiersen. What is his best work (album)?
Try his soundtrack for Good Bye Lenin! Good film, as well.
Brilliant. Coherent too, a new vein for you, no? ; ) Deep without trying to be (i.e. non-Pree-tehn-shuss).
Try listening to P Glasses "Music in Similar Motion" or Music in Contrary Motion" or any of the less convential pieces with your eyes closed. things come.
I do have an interest in foreign films except the thrillers. I just finished viewing film trailers. Good Bye Lenin! is a film I will enjoy. Thanks for the recommendation. I've noticed all the asian films can be bought if you know the right places to get DVDs before the film hits the theatres. Anyone seen the trailer for "The Grudge" and "Ju-On"? Same director. Looks like the same story line to me. Anyone seen "Ju-On"?
Patrick: pretension is just a label, like everything else; I shall listen to those pieces as per your recommendation.
Thomas: No idea about those films. I haven't seen a lot of Asian films at that; I, however, did see a number of good HK action flicks and from Japanese market, films like After Life come to mind.
Anyways, I'm a bit under the influence and depressed to hell. Ask me for details on another day.