21.Apr.2001

blessed

--

comfortably numb

I will always adore Pink Floyd. Allow me to give you a scenario of this evening:

Almost intoxicated.

Fog and rain.

Driving in circles to Pink Floyd.

The windows down.

The harsh Northern air on my tongue, niccotine in my lungs, lights in the distance, so much time, so much music, my head is swimming, into the distance, around curves, quiet save Dave Gilmour.

The moon shows its face for mere seconds; the stars violently meet your gaze. You drive. Because this is all you know.

I write.

Because this is all I know.

Stars, exploding, distance, silence, strings, speed.

I am blessed.

I don't want to sleep. There is something of today I cannot vanquish. It refuses.

I cannot let go.

I want to frame today, and lick it and hold it and hate it.

I can't.

As the world stands still for a moment.

--

time & machine