why is it so hard sometimes to let people in?
do you think we ever really do? fully?
is it bad if we don’t?
suppose its our own loss if we don’t…
but i don’t think you can ever really do that. perhaps i’m too jaded for my age. or perhaps i like that layer of emotional protection. like SPF 55 for the soul.
funny how the strength goes higher with age…to cover up scars of the past.
i’m not sure where this is going. this is what happens when i listen to Stars late at night when its raining.
A new Sunset Rubdown song premiered today. You can stream it at Pitchfork, or inquire within if you’d like the mp3.
I was clicking around YouTube tonight after playing the song at least a dozen times, and stumbled across this gem I hadn’t heard before. It made me heart swell, ever so slightly. You know that feeling when you love a band so much that any new music immediately captivates you. Its almost like you can feel yourself being changed by it…
When was the last time you had that feeling?
I keep leaving the people I love.
Or strongly like.
Sometimes they leave me, but usually its the former.
Its the curse of the nomad, and it keeps getting harder. You’d think it would get easier. Although I guess that wouldn’t make it a curse. Right.
Even now, having moved here just two months ago, I’m contemplating my next move. Building my career. No one ever warns you its going to be so painstakingly hard. They don’t put that in the brochures. Not even in the fine print. There are times like tonight when I wish I had picked the easier route. Gone to the city everyone else did and made my life there. Been closer to my family and friends….my dog. Yet I know that’s not me. I know.
Still, it makes for a lonely life sometimes. Everyone I love spread across the globe. Technology makes it easier, mind you.
As I left the airport tonight, having dropped off The Boy (this goodbye easier than the last) I was pondering the recent goodbyes I’ve had and the one that sticks out in my mind the most is when I left Newcastle.
It was a gorgeous August evening. I had gone out for a drink at my favourite pub with a good friend. I was trying to commit everything to memory that night. The sound my boots made on the cobblestones, the smell of the fry truck at Monument, the Batman graffiti under the bridge, even the sound of the sirens. Afterward we stood on the stoop of my flat, trying hard to hold back tears and well, that just wasn’t working. The floodgates opened and I’ll never forget the feeling of my heart breaking. When you hear the words ‘heart break’ your mind kind of automatically goes to thinking about something romantical, but no, there are many breaks without romantics involved, and this was one of them. It was a combination of saying goodbye to a friend, but also to the city I had grown to love so dearly. Yes, I left my heart in the North. After I waved my friend, I went back inside to get my bags. My phone lit up with a text – “I’ll miss you most of all.”
In this day an age, texts, emails, etc are in such abundance we take them granted and sometimes they loose meaning because of this. That one, I will never forget though, as silly as it might sound. It’s like a letter, I’d slip in my top drawer. A reminder, in case I forget…
It’s never goodbye, but I’ll see you soon.
Filed under friends, home, memory, nomad diaries, ocean of noise
I heard this song yesterday. Its the new Tori Amos song, “Welcome to England.”
The video made my homesick, if you will. Funny because its shot in London, a city I am not particularly fond of.
Also, at sound of her voice I was immediately transportated back to my teenage self. By the time the chorus was ringing in my ears I was in first year university, lying down on my single bed, starring up at the twinkle lights my roommate and I had hung and looking out the window at the freshly fallen snow. If I closed my eyes I could hear a little Ani in the background, coming down the hall from B’s room.
I miss those twinkle lights.
The snow is completely undisturbed as it falls on the pavement outside my window and I have this urge to run out wreck the calm.
And after I’ve made my tracks in the snow, I’d look up at the stars and say hey, do you miss me?
Me either.
I was interrupted mid-post.
The first time I heard this song I was struck by the line “you look so good in the shoes of an outcast” because it reminded me of something I used to get teased about it while in high school…minus the “you look so good” part. People used to always tease me for my footwear (and purple jean wearing). Perhaps because I’d scribble on my converse, white-out the ridges on my docs and use safety pins for laces. I’m not sure, but they were not what everyone else had in this small town, and well, kids are cruel.
Anyway, this song always picks me up and gives me the hope that I’ll find another shoe outcast, someday.
What I’m Trying To Say.
This song always gives me a little peace.
I’m not sure if I believe in heaven, but I believe in the hope of, something.
I was lamenting to a friend the other day, how I have not been blown away by any recent films. Sure, there have been a few notables, but nothing that I want to watch again, and again (although there are a few coming up I am interested in). Thus, I’ve been in on an old movie kick. I think it has to do with the combination of longer takes and the fast paced dialogue (especially with films from the ’40s and ’50s) that captivates me the most. Also a small part of me, hidden underneath the jaded cynicism, that wants to believe in happy endings.
One of the first black and white films I ever watched.
Thought this was interesting. Whistling makes everything better, doesn’t?
Hmm…I feel like watching Some Like It Hot now…actually, The Apartment.
Filed under films, memory, suppose so
Your go to, classic, feel good film?
The Wizard of Oz makes me all warm and fuzzy inside. I caught it on telly tonight, and couldn’t resist. Its funny, I dislike musicals, but I am never bothered by the songs in this film. Perhaps because its tied so closely to childhood.
If you could have a wish granted (one not involving acquiring more wealth) what would it be?
