my spontaneous written answer to the written question "why do you love autumn?" sounded something like this:
"because beautiful songs were written about it.
and because in autumn... i sometimes find myself, even tough i always feel that i'm scattered with the leaves and melted away in the rain."
and only after reading it again, and seeing it in written, did i figure that it was the truth. had you asked me the question before, i would have probably said that i hate autumn, because of the inevitable depression in which everything starts sinking all of a sudden, with the heavy rainfalls.
i am speaking of late autumn here, when the fire of the foliage is long since extinguished by the constant drizzle and pour out of leaden skies, leaving behind only the charred twisting branches, that spike at the clouds, trying in vain to tear them to shreds, to let some golden sunlight shine down.
not the foliage is what defines trees, but the roots and trunks and branches. leaves are but a passing adornment, an outburst of faked joy of green and yellow and orange and red. they come and go, the rest remains. and in late autumn, the trees show themselves as they are.
that's why, i am like the trees. it is not the depression that comes over me with the coming of the autumn... 
it is the faked joy that i shake off, tired or wearing it, like dried out leaves. that's why, when those passing conventional smiles are scattered with the leaves and the tears melt away in the rain... i find my self.
so fell autumn rain,
but all things must pass
so fell autumn rain,
washed away all my pain
i feel brighter somehow,
lighter somehow
to breathe once again
so fell autumn rain,
washed my sorrows away
with the sunset behind
somehow i find
the dreams are to stay
lake of tears -
so fell autumn rain
ps: the image is called 'dead bodies everywhere'. the author is marcin stawiarz. i warmly recommend his site www.stawiarz.com as it is a treat for both eye and soul.
there are few people out there who have a Dream with a capital D. there are fewer people out there who get to share a Dream with someone. there are even fewer people out there who dare to fight for their Dream. and only the fewest of them actually get to live it, to be come the living, breathing, talking, walking incarnation of that Dream.
take away the commercial side of the croc hunter, and you will have a person who took their dream out into the world. maybe he didn't raise many followers, but he raised attention on something else than your everyday issues. "I believe that education is all about being excited about something. Seeing passion and enthusiasm helps push an educational message." i hope it did. "ain't she a beauty?". no, she ain't. or at least she wasn't, until someone pointed it out.
a stingray may kill a man, but it may not kill a dream. and seeing the odd chance there is for such an accident, i just can't help thinking that this was one of those things that were meant to be. and that stingray did nothing else but fulfilling a mission. it gave a hero to a cause. "I have no fear of losing my life - if I have to save a koala or a crocodile or a kangaroo or a snake, mate, I will save it."let's just hope the
world gets the message and that it won't forget the idea over mourning the person. and yet... farewell to a piscean who swam against the stream and to the degree to which dragons still exist... farewell to a dragon whisperer. rest in peace, mate.
looks and sounds like heartbreak season. actually, been looking and sounding like that for some time now. people breaking up or falling apart... people whom you'd never expect to do that. people being broken hearted who'd never deserve it, people breaking hearts from who you'd never expect it... i am honestly surprised that i hear of people wedding, since break-up seems to be the trend these days.
i sure hope that those who have someone to hold on to, hold on tight. but even some of those seem to have first and second and third thoughts about it. it's one of the worst fields to have doubts in, i reckon. putting your trust in someone, supposedly investing the best of you and then realising that that someone is not the one you thought they were... and that they are definitely not the fabled One.
which raises the philosophical and as yet, as far as i am aware, unanswered question of how to know you've met the One. now one of the stupidest ideas i've ever heard is making a list of what you'd want in a significant other. people don't match lists, they are not a string of bits and bytes. what i sort of do have on a list though, is what i wouldn't want in someone... core things, pretty important things and the not so important, yet bothersome things. i am not fooling myself that there's someone running loose out there to match any criteria list... not the must have, not the musn't have. he'd have to be very special indeed to cope with me, i know that. am a difficult kid to handle. he'd have to be even more special for me to like, let alone love.
but i kinda figured how i would know... it would prolly be a person in front of whom i could cry freely. without
feeling weak, or stupid, or like having to apologise, or justify, or answer a thousand questions, or ease someone's worries. just cry all the tears i've held up inside for too long and then fall asleep in a pair of arms and wake up with a smile, to finally face a morning that is worth getting up from the bed.
just for the record: the last time i cried in front of someone was september 19, 2003. that someone was my mum and i didn't want her to be there. the time before that... i cannot remember. tough job, eh?
...or fall apart, in my case. i have come to abhorr those little coins and papers and those plastic cards. because, as much as idaelistic assholes out there claim you cannot buy happiness, those coins and papers and plastics prove them wrong each and every day, over and over again.
no, you probably can't buy happiness. obviously, since it's an abstract thing. but you probably can buy loads if not most of the things that make you as an individual happy. sure, you may be happy to walk in the sunshine. but if you happen to feel like it on a lousy rainy november? well, you got the money - you go somewhere sunny. you love dogs? well, if you have the money - get a whole pack of puppies to raise in a proper space. you fancy writing? take a sabatical and start doing it. you love parties - party with money. you love to read... books cost money, so does the time to read, unless you're paid for that.
i am sick of depending on money. sick of counting twice if i actually can afford to buy a present, sick of skipping holidays in order to save for something else, sick of being too far from friends to meet them without huge costs, sick of hearing my parents fearing their retirement, sick of thinking twice before ordering a pizza, sick of choosing carefully which book or cd to buy, sick of not going to all the concerts i fancy, sick of being in a dead end job cause it pays well enough, instead of doing full time what i really like.
because, yes, that's what it comes down to. and mind you, i am by far the best off from most people i know. i live with my parents and they don't charge me anything; it is my choice to eat something different, i can spend my money on clothes, or books, or cds, or travel, or, yes, an expensive-as-hell camera or on a laptop i didn't need at that time but thank god i bought it, or to pay my internet bill or to talk on the phone with whoever i want for as long as i want or... you get the point.
however, it is not the rosiest thing, i do feel like i am living off their backs. and i do know that i have a darn good salary compared to... well, almost all people i know. for doing virtually nothing, because my job is laid back enough to allow me to devote at least 5 or 6 of those 8 hours to something else. i just need to be there. and yet,
i dread waking up and dragging myself to there... i dread having to smile when i am down, having to listen to stupid jokes when i want silence and endure silence when i want music. i dread not being able to do something else because it pays less.
and i absolutely hate the fact that i am such a chicken. and that i fail to live what i preach :(
donnie, as in donnie darko. ka-boom. there goes your parallel universe that suddenly became tangent. be a smart kid and go with it. oh, and don't try to understand what i'm saying.
well, apparently my latest blog (not counting the placebo review, cause i wrote it some while ago, just not on the blog) stirred quite some reaction. on one hand... i can understand it. on the other... not. in the end, i think buddhists may be right and have the right attitude after all... no attitude and no action whatsoever makes any sense, unless it is given one.
kick ass? why on earth should i bother? it's not worth the nervous consumption. none of the idiots populating the planet is. kick around recklessly? why? there will be collateral damage no matter what... i'll avoid as much as i can turning into someone who turns people into depressive, suspicious little nothings like me by hitting them undeservingly... oh yeah, of course the innocents out there will bang their heads on walls eventually. it's just that... i'm not the one for the job, even tough i might do them a service after all.
getting angry is as childish and as futile as getting depressive. it's just that depressive hurts less people. am growing good at hiding it, so those who care won't have to worry about me too much. of course i'll collapse at some point. there is, as yet, no perpetuum mobile. and god knows i have no one to keep me going. my mind is full of cracks as is. having imaginary friends is not normal. living imaginary lives even less so. having no living being to trust is poisonous. and so is having no real friends. and yet, as a paradox, imaginary and virtual friends, imaginary lives and not expecting anything from anyone is probably the one thing that kept my brain in one piece. whenever i tried differently, it just cracked a little more. on the bright side, there won't be too many to lament.
besides... what good is it all? i have yet to be shown... no, proven that it's worth the pain. and that can't be, as long as i'm not willing to try. it's a devil's circle and i won't let temptations lure me out of my snug little place, that gives me claustrophobia whenever i close my eyes to contemplate it. and yet... we all die alone. who says we should live otherwise? to what end, to what purpose? in the end we'll all nothing but a bunch of scattered leaves no one cares about, no one remembers... and a dream of spring that has flown a
way, in search for another world to bloom in.
"i can only hope the answers will come to me in my sleep. i hope that when the world comes to an end, i can breathe a sigh of relief, becasue there will be so much to look forward to. donnie darko"
"i still have an older debt here, a review of the placebo concert. i translated what i posted on the roportal forum.
bucharest, sunday, august 13, anno domini 2006.
on an ordinary occasion, i would've been at home, thinking longingly of those lucky ones who got round to go to the szighet music festival, where placebo, radiohead, deus, the rasmus, iggy pop... would perform. on an ordinary occasion. but this wasn't ordinary. because before performing in szighet, placebo would have a concert in bucharest. thus, instead of staying home and dreaming, the undersigned was in a train to bucharest, reviewing 'homework' in those darned seven and a half hours, with tons of placebo on my player and the sunete magazine in my lap - a special edition dedicated entirely to placebo.
skipping the meet and greet (tnx again *kiss*), 19:00, somewhere near the concert venue. somewhere near, because the place was packed full. skip waiting, queuing, crowds, going forward with the speed of a drunken snail, throwing away bottles of drinks at the entry, the superficial check of the bags. yup, that's it, silly me, i could've taken my camera in spite of what the ticket read, but it wasn't actually mine but a borrowed one and i didn't risk it. finally, slowly but surely the crowd gets in, 5000 tickets, sold out show (i later heard they were actually 6000). now skip again on pepsi cola's exclusivity on selling drinks, skip the fact that i didn't want to have steal-able stuff on me and ended up not having the cash for a t-shirt and let's get to the point.
warm-up by a certain rock dj, ab4 the opening act. i like them, they are sometimes ear scratching, their english is somewhat rusty, but overall ok. they can't complain, i sang :D, songs picked were mainly from their english language album 'broken trust', apart from hol, which, as someone noted, was hol and not cold. i remember hearing born to learn, missing parts, different horizons, rising stars and preferences. anyway, there are tracks on the album that would've been a better choice. all in all, i guess it was the largest crowd they ever played, even if not the most interested one :D
then THEY come on, the gods... "hello, ladies and gentlemen of bucharest... we are the ladies and gentlemen of placebo". crowd gone crazy, i look around during the songs from meds, their latest album, the one promoted through the tour, songs that weren't singles and yes, people sing. the atmosphere is great, meds-songs obviously make most of the playlist, but there are also well known hits, when the roars of the crowd fire up.
the opener is infra-red, one of the best if not the best track of the album... "someone call the ambulance, there's gonna be an accident", well, i at least am high, this is no night to consider sore throats, "i'm coming up on infra-red, there's no running that can hide you, cause I can see in the dark...". next up is meds, another killer track, no it's brilliant, though i somehow miss the chick's voice... "baby, did you forget to take your meds?", nope, that's not the issue, there is no med that can put up with this, and then because i want you. so do we. then the screams get even louder when black-eyedstarts, yep it looks like the right people came to the concert, then song to say goodbye and what can be cooler than spending money on a ticket to hear a dude sing you "you are one of god's mistakes, you're crying tragic waste of skin" to some hypnothizing chords, and no, i am not a masochist, i'm just a darn happy fan.
but it can get better, next is special k, the first placebo song i ever heard, with that wonderful video with the mini-sub. then the inevitable technical problems, "this being a totally live show things are bound to go wrong, and right now they just did", guitars changing, and yes, the show must go on, there starts another special... special needs this time. "just nineteen, a sucker's dream, guess I thought you had the flavour, just nineteen and dream obscene with six months off for bad behaviour" and no, i am not nineteen, but i can rise up to any hysterical bsb-fan or whoever it is they are worshipping these days.
then, again off the meds album there is drag, "you're always ahead of the pack, I drag behind", no you don't, they are really on top and they are here, live, in font of me and i still don't believe it, then every me and every you, people sing it out loud, as someone said, well not some anyone, but the seraph in person, it's the placebo song of which every loser (aka manele listener) knows. of which, yes, but which - i doubt. however, who's there knows and sings. then there's one of a kind, "on top of the world you get nothing... done" and then see you at the bitter end and placebo exit stage. people scream, shout, clap on seats for around five minutes, i still don't know whether what followed was an encore or just the resuming of the concert after technical trouble. fact is, placebo are back on stage, and what can be heard is running up the hill, a kate bush cover. brian introduces the band, after which nancy boy follows, "got the muse in my head, she's universal", yes she is, but placebo leave again.
the public screams again, i am caught somewhere between fear and hope, it can't have been all, but what if...? no, people keep shouting, it can't be over, and this time i'm sure it's an encore, yes, placebo are back, steve, the guitar player heads through the crowd, brian apologises for being late and for the technical problems, thanks the public for their patience and the incredible atmosphere, promises that "they'll be back soon", i know it's a nice thing to say but i can't refrain from hoping, and i still do... next up is twenty years, and yes, after that they are gone for good.
we're off with crowd, out of the venue, we hold each other's hands so we won't get lost, it's six of us, three definitely in ecstasy, two of us haven't come down yet, for sure... if someone asks me how it's been, i still have trouble giving a coherent answer that is not monosyllabic, it's a whirl of sounds and lights, imagines and sensations. it seemed to last forever and when it was over, it seemed it didn't really happen... where were haemoglobin, slave to the wage, english summer rain, pure morning, without you i'm nothing... where were post blue, pierrot the clown, follow the cops back home... there were so many and yet so many were missing :(
what followed was a white night (tnx again for the company :*) and a trip back home by train, half of which i slept through, and half of which i re-listened to the songs in a trance, i still didn't manage to grab a poster but someone took care of me apparently :) but in the station i didn't know that yet, i was looking filled with envy, but also proud at all the people the train spit out at tis destination, posters in their hands. i slept and thought impressions would settle, but it's not the case, proof being that it took me so long to write this review, which i still wouldn't have managed if someone hadn't done it on the forum, and he seems to have remembered everything :)
"wrap me in your trauma and I may just give you mine"... i've been meaning to write this blog for a couple of days now, i am sure i had something clever to say in the introduction, but that seems just wiped out of my mind right now... for god knows what reason (i hope he does, for i don't), i'm all introspective gain, all of a sudden. or maybe i never ever stopped. anyway, not the point.
the point is that i've taken a peek in a dark tunnel i usually avoid, called 'future'. i have some decisions to make, and they'd better be clever ones. so i laid back and considered what i truly like, what i enjoy doing, what i would like to do for the rest of my life, who i am, where i am, where i see myself in a couple of years' time. all the usual blah blah you'd expect on occasions like that. there aren't too many things i like. writing and photography are among them. and looking back on how it all started...
i've been writing for ages, but kept things to myself and maybe a couple of other people. however, i once saw a book published by an absolute moron, with absolute moronic epigramms (four liners, mocking poems). and i went steaming angry. i thought if that idiot can do it, so can i. here i am, three years and two poetry volumes later. i still don't share too much and i think them far from brilliant, but i give them to friends. and they are mine.
as for pictures... i never subscribed to the site to actually upload pics, or not to another purpose other than showing my dog to people... however, i saw so much crap on a site that is presumed to be of photography, and so much praise to them that i went point blank rage again, thinking 'hang on, fucks, i can do much better than that'... so here i am, six months and a brand new camera later. i am far from being happy with my stuff, but again, they are mine.
the sad part is, that while i am not really content with any of my 'works of art', i consider them so much better than most of the crap out there. and they both started out of sheer spite. because i knew and i wanted to prove that i can do it so much better than half of the idiots out there boasting it. while i still hold that for true, i must admit it is a sorry motivation to do something, let alone make a passion for it.
moreover, it denotes a worry-worth tendency of me defining myself in relation to others... not only others, but complete morons >:) and people i know keep encouraging me for it and don't seem to display my skepticism towards what i make out of it. well, i've been through the looking glass self over and again at the uni, erving goffman must've been my favourite author of psychosociology, but this is a bit too much for my taste.
but somehow it feels strange that i only delight in 'borrowed' things... like i'm living someone else's life and being better at it. or feeling that way, anyway... and suddenly the lyrics make so much more sense. yep, the blood in my veins isn't mine... but the stormy place in the mind is.
"there's a place within her mind
with rains already falling.
she's insane, this friend of mine
and she's always bawling.
...
she's preparing for the flood,
the deluge and the sliding mud
she's preparing for the flood
running on black market blood"
~ placebo - black market blood ~
there are two films that deeply moved me as a child - e.t. and the last unicorn (well and terminator II at some point, but that doesn't fit the clumsy picture i attempt to paint here). i have seen both a couple of times as a child and cried every time. i would like to see the movies again, but i am afraid they will lose that dear and special glow that surrounds them. maybe they belong to my childhood and shouldn't be touched. maybe i should just keep them encased in the shrine of early days and not desecrate those moments, tainting them with the slime of the present.
i found peter beagle's the last unicorn a some days ago and i have just put the book down now to write this blog because something occurred to me. it is weird how metaphors wriggle their ways into our lives and express them even if we are not aware of them.
there used to be a time when i was a lover of unicorns and pegasi, and sometimes even of the cross-breed that so called fantasy artist made of the two (woo-hoo, why not draw both wings and a horn on the same poor creature?). there used to be a
time when i gathered every half-decent picture of any of them. there used to be a time when i loved to draw them (well, it was more copying, since i'm not good at drawing). there used to be a time when it broke me that someone else stole my idea of drawing silvery white unicorns on black cardboard before i got round to do it. there used to be a time when i identified those wonderful magical horse like creatures as my second nature.
for those out there unfamiliar with such beasts:
the unicorn is not merely a white horse with a horn; it's smaller, more graceful, with cloven hooves, a lion's tail and a goat-like beard. ageless and immortal creatures, their horns may cure diseases and neutralise poisons. unicorns are a symbol of grace and beauty; fierce but kind, they are the uncatchable cretures that can be tamed only by pure hearted maidens.
pegasus is the winged horse of greek mythology, mount of heroes and companion of the muses, often seen as a symbol of inspiration. he was born after the slaying of the gorgon medusa, a mere look at whom might have killed, by perseus; allegorically speaking the said medusa was a personification of paralyzing fear out of which nothing good comes. instead of looking at her directly and becoming a victim like all others before him, perseus aimed his strike while watching her in a polished shield. using another, cool-headed point of view, he overcame fear. at fear's death, inspiration was born.
i couldn't tell you when magical horses, be they winged or horned, faded from the picture :( eventually they did and what replaced them was the imagery of the dragon. dragons too populate the world of myth and lore as mighty beast, through whose veins the magic of earth (the planet, not the element) itself courses. a race older perhaps than any other, time has but little significance to them and growing age only renders them wiser, stronger, their scales thicker and more resistant and their breath deadlier and reaching ever farther. they watch, prey and hoard when offered the occasion but prefer the solace of their lair to the company of others.
while i confess to be a lover of dragons and regard them as highly misunderstood creatures... i must also confess i find the transformation sad. to be going to a happy, careless and free roaming creature of the skies and forests such as pegasi and unicorns to... well, an old, sulking reptile thing, with still the power but not the will to roam at large, hoarding to no end other than the hoarding itself (be it material or spiritual possessions), avoiding
encounters and finishing them briskly if not even violently when they happen... that is not a good think.however, if mythical creature it must be... the world is fitter for a dragon than for a unicorn these days. innocent maidens are deceiving, the hunters countless and their greed unmeasured. thick scales and deadly breath make better surviving tools than grace and playful nimbleness.
that's how i feel :( totally happy, but totally unsatisfied. the one highlight of this miserable summer (oh yeah. i skipped the blog relating my 'wonderful' holiday. friends know and the rest shouldn't care... i spared both you and me the trouble), the year isn't showing any signs of improvement, and... it's gone in a flash.
a long expected party
the thing i'm talking about is the placebo concert this weekend in buchaerst and all things connected to it. yep, the band that souveraingnly rules my most played artist chart on last.fm ever since i've created the account came to this stupid third world country i have to call my own. a must go to event. and an excellent occasions to meet people whom i haven't seen in years and some i've never seen. and whom, i must confess, i'd gladly exchange with ones here, who i'm bored and tired and sick sometimes of being too close. :)
many meetings
hey, that was the biggest gang that ever waited for me in a train station - four people! *grin* there were six of us who eventually entered the concert venue. i will not use this blog to comment on the organising issues. or complain that i hadn't thought of taking enough cash with me to get a t-shirt, or that i wasn't bright enough to get myself a concert poster :( or that pepsi had exclusivity on selling drinks (yuck). i will just say that the event itself was worth every penny and maybe more. the opening band was ab4, one of my favourite romanian bands. this must have been the biggest crowd they've ever played, the place was full. and when placebo came on... i haven't tried weed yet, but if/when i do, i promise to tell you whether it can beat this. time seemed to be frozen, people around were frozen, all that mattered was the here and now. or the then and there. it seemed to last forever, but then again it was so short and over so soon... i was left there, in the middle of something, trying to find myself... and the way back to ground for my feet.
the breaking of the fellowship
i didn't. not for the entire night. three of us went to a club and two of us remained till... they kicked us out. and then we strolled slowly to the city at night and set on a bench, talking. and then we took a cab to the train station. and... ever had a twilight zone experiece? well... i did. when a glass door suddenly slides between you and the person you are talking to (and who wasn't standing more than two steps away, considering she was on the train platform and me on the steps)... that's a twilight zone experience. freaky. we didn't even get to say goodbye properly. the train swallowed me and kidnapped me from there, taking me away from my frozen bubble in space and time and back to... what?
the grey havens
well... there is nothing haven'ish about them... just grey. very grey. and all i'm left with is a bittersweet feeling. high and dry. am here, but am still there. tortured by the materialization in this world, unable to quite complete it, and unable to stay there... "baby... did you forget to meds?"
Runaway train never coming back
Wrong way on a one way track
Seems like I should be getting somewhere
Somehow I'm neither here nor there
... this is the song that should provide the soundtrack for this little piece of insanity. thanks Bogdan for providing the scenery. enter the theatre of my mind. watch your steps, though, there are tracks running criss-cross all over my brain, though, and trains speed passed absolutely reckless towards me. there's no reason they should be otherwise towards you.
well... here i am again. at a crossroads of sorts. multiple tracks coming and going, intersecting on the various planes of my life and me... silly little me is just standing in the middle of it all, looking around confused. i keep turning around myself, i've lost all sense of direction and i haven't yet reached any decision. i probably even won't.
i got used to that by now... sooner or later, some train will pass. i'll be too chicken to jump on board and too weak to make it halt. so i'll just jump off its tracks and let it pass, looking at some idiotic kid having his nose pressed against the window and poking his tongue at me.
i have no idea what i want. i don't want anything. or i want too much. or i don't want much, but i want contradictory things. or... ah, to hell with it all. in the end i'll probably just start walking in some direction or other. i am not made to jump on passing trains. rides without tickets - that's just not my style. sides... there are so many, coming, going... i just can't choose.
i have a professional opportunity that i've longed for in some time... yet i am undecided. it's all i've ever wanted though. i think the thing that scares me is being on my own for too long. if i just retreat in my old, deserted station house... i don't know if i'll ever dare look at trains again. it took an effort to get used to being around people, to stop feeling haunted, to stop feeling watched, to stop feeling awkward. this option is just all too tempting to my old self.
in my private life... i am getting attached to people again. i guess most would see this as a positive thing. it just scares the hell out of me. it'll do nothing but get me hurt again in the end. it was a slow and painful process, extracting all that bound me, leaving gapes instead... severing all the ties. i ended up maimed. maimed, but alive and emotionally self sufficient. i guess the tendency to bond is the natural one and what i inflict upon myself is the perversion. but i do not feel i have the strength to receive all the hurt that comes through those tentacles that bind me to others. nor to get myself in a shape fit for survival in a world of relationships. i just want to stay planted just where i am, a diform mass of something, no pitiable electric impulses in the shape of feelings travelling to or from me.
i just want to lie down on the tracks... have all trains take a different route... watch the grass grow over the rail, look out along the steady metal tracks and dream where they might lead to. not go there. just dream. i want to lie down on the tracks in safety and fall into a dream of distances where nothing ever hurts.
i decided to leave this goddamned country, even if even for a while. i need a breath of fresh air. i need to get away from a place where climbing on the head of others is an ordinary event, where it is natural to be rude and reckless and when you don't seem to have some immediate material interest of sorts you are regarded as freak. where you are not allowed to step out of your role - gender, professional, agewise or whatever. it is a place for chameleons and i am not a chameleon. a train out of here would be a good idea... one to take me away from all my crossroads.
or even better... have a custom made train... on custom made tracks... the small, open wagon trains they use in the mountains, on narrow tracks, that are just their own. admire the scenery as it slowly passes by. no hurry whatsoever. speed is not what matters, neither the destination. insanity will always be there waiting... i might just as well enjoy the ride. on a special track, leading away from all others.
Bought a ticket for a runaway train
Like a madman laughin' at the rain
Little out of touch, little insane
Just easier than dealing with the pain
and then... i lift my eyes and see projected on the horizons hundreds of train and track extensions, posts and cables... indicating just as many trains passing and passengers waiting, trampling each other on the feet, hoping to get a good seat. and i get all scared again... they'll trample me... regardless of my lack of interest in their trains and danr seats. i just can't let myself be exposed like
that... i feel like a snail without a shell. like a little limax, with my insides all on the outsides. limaxes are gross and slimy. all they ever do is get squished. time to get a train out of here. to anywhere. far from the madding crowd, far from all the intersecting tracks. away...
So tired that I couldn't even sleep,
So many secrets I couldn't keep
Promised myself I wouldn't weep,
One more promise I couldn't keep.
my spontaneous written answer to the written question "why do you love autumn?" sounded something like this:
