Categories
Charleston, West Virginia Music & Songs Videos

Second in the Line (Video) (& my desire to drown in brown)

Recently I have been obsessed with the color brown… in the past few years, my life has been so immaterial… always using the internet & social media to escape physical reality… now I am hoping my life can become all about the physical world and I can crack it open like a big fat nut.

I just want to go to restaurants and buy clothes covered in little flowers and meet people with physical bodies that don’t smell bad. I want to have a big red car and drive around to see the mountains and coal factories without worrying about the price of gas. I want to drive all the way to the ocean and buy a house right next to it. I want my houses to be glossy & historical, like lacquered chestnuts. I want to spend my time wondering if I detect notes of blueberries in a bottle of wine. I want to eat sushi. I want to pay people to massage me with their elbows. I want to stop at gas stations and grab red bulls for the road, checking to see if they sell pink t-shirts as well. I want to collect Fiestaware from the past, when they made it in earth tones and pastel colors. I want to deck my dogs out in expensive plaid collars & take them to the salon to get their hair puffed up like a couple of politicians. I want to buy them takeout from expensive restaurants. Eat lobster rolls with them every Sunday. I want arch supports for all my shoes. Pictures hanging in frames from my walls. To buy expensive jewelry and keep it in a pink safe. To panic if the scent of my body lotion does not match my shampoo. I want to be a lady who lunches & worry about whatever they worry about. AHHHH… this is a great dream! Being buried alive in the material world… I want this so bad!!!



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Oh- this has nothing to do with the song though… just my thoughts of the moment. Here are the lyrics….

To adore me you must
Go before me
Build a path for me.

Laying stones down you
Must prepare the ground
Build a home for me.

Remember when you fall so far
Remember I was there for you to give you something more

Softly touch me we’re noplace now- this is just a dream.
Fingers through your skin- you were never just a friend.
We are family.

Looking your eyes
All the lies
Beautiful to me.

You say you won’t hurt me no more
Well what else are friends for?
Someone to believe.

Remember when you fall so hard
Remember I was there for you, always safe and warm.

Softly touch me we’re noplace now- this is just a dream.
Fingers through your skin- you were never just a friend.
We are family.

Closing my eyes, I
See it all unfurl
I know how it ends.

Dark things fly towards me
Still you walk before me
Vanish round the bend.

And all the stars that beg for you
To sparkle in your time.
Remember I was there for you
Second in the line.

Softly touch me we’re noplace now- this is just a dream.
Fingers through your skin, you were never just a friend.
We are family.

Categories
Astrology Charleston, West Virginia Writings Yellow, Gold, Kings, Fathers, and the Sun

Gray Clouds, Brown Boxes & Tubes

An excerpt from my journal.

I haven’t felt capable of writing in here for a while because all these heavy things have been hanging over my head. Literally. Gray clouds & brown boxes. Bars & tubes stuck into my skull, driving me insane.

I assume the gray clouds are depressive thoughts of which I’m not consciously aware. The boxes probably contain psychic junk I have been suppressing. The metal bars extend to various people & represent the pressure I feel to please them. The hollow tubes contain thoughts & perspectives pumped directly into my head.

At least I think this is the case. I haven’t taken the time to carefully dig into these things because there is just too much heavy stuff there & it feels unbearably tedious to sift through it all.

So it has been sitting there, having a slightly discouraging effect upon me, making me doubt the value of anything I could express and also the value of those I would be expressing to.

It hasn’t been the best time ever when it comes to relationships.

For starters James has been going through the darkest period a man lives through in a 264 period (Pluto on moon) also known as the Wife Beating transit. And I’ve been stuck in a house with him night & day.

Secondly, the political situation- shutdowns etc- has me on edge. I feel nervous that you are expected to accept the government’s increasing control without question. I can’t bring myself to wear a mask- because I believe something sketchy is underway- and this makes me seem like an asshole to others. And people already think I am an asshole for supporting Trump which bums me out as well.

But the fact is basic freedoms- such as free speech & the ability to live life on my own terms- are very important to me. I don’t want to live in North Korea. And this makes me a nazi klansman in the eyes of most people I know, making me feel even more isolated.

And on a personal level these past months have released a series of events which made me realize most people I believed to be friends were actually enemies from the beginning. All this has me doubting how many good people actually exist in the world. Is everyone your enemy once you get to know them? Or am I just doing something majorly wrong?

Regardless though, I know I must push through these gray clouds & attempt to express myself, if only to provide balls for my enemies’ cannons.

Because I do believe in life. I know there is a higher purpose and our actions matter. We have to place our faith in doing the right thing, letting the chips fall where they may when it comes to peoples’ reactions.

And I also believe in people because they are made in Life’s image. Still this faith is a muscle I have to consciously exercise. I think the most important part of writing is summoning in your mind an image of an ideal audience that you are writing to. People who are caring, interested, thoughtful…. whatever qualities excite you. These imaginary people become your muse.

Sometimes you imagine specific people have these qualities and you make them your muse. Sometimes you find out they never had those qualities to begin with and it feels as though a piece of your muse has been lost. I guess that is what has been happening to me.

But then you summon your faith again and once again imagine a beautiful golden blob of humanity dangling above your head, filled with endless possibility. People so inviting you want to tell them everything.

Categories
Charleston, West Virginia Writings

I am Dumb.

Every time I finish writing a post, the other side of the coin starts to shine so brightly that I feel the need to either scrap what I wrote, or else write a second post completely contradicting it.

Recently, I wrote a post called “Projection” in which I painted myself as a smart person pretending to be dumb. But I lied. The truth is I am a dumb person pretending to be smart. 

At the time though, I was just sick of people who think they are intelligent because they eat quail eggs and pretend to read Shakespeare. Look, I know who Phillip of Macedon is and once asked a man for directions to the beach in French! So find someone else to condescend on.

Nevertheless, when it comes to what matters most- practical things- I actually am an idiot. I have no idea how the world operates.

How does money work? Taxes? Automobiles? How do people hook up in bars? Or walk into a dark alley and come back with a bag of drugs? Why is Ryan Gosling considered sexy? What clothes make you seem intelligent? What expression should you make when a friend tells you she is gay?

Why do people visit gynecologists? What papers should be filled out on a regular basis to not get arrested? Can you pour unused paint down the drain? What do you do with the body when someone dies? How can you safely flatter someone without accidentally offending them at the same time? (Hint-don’t complement them on their second chin.)

How do you change oil? Buy a house? Choose the right moment to pepper spray a stranger? Should you scream if a man leaps out of the bushes to grab you? What lines does a person have to cross to officially be a pervert? How do you activate a phone so it will call people? Or keep yourself from going unconscious under fluorescent lights?

What are you supposed to feel when you go to a U2 concert that makes it worth 200 dollars? Why should you travel to see the Eiffel Tower rather than admiring a telephone pole? How do you buy a plane ticket? Will the stewardess ask you for identifying information? How do you get that identifying information and what sorts of identifying information will you need to acquire it?

Even people on welfare amaze me with their worldliness… how does a person get welfare? What offices do they go to and what do they say to the officers? I imagine there would be so many forms to fill out and hoops to jump through that it would be just as easy to get a job at NASA.

I don’t know why I have trouble with these sorts of things, but no matter how much effort I put into increasingly my worldly intelligence, it doesn’t seem to help. For example, I can’t seem to memorize my address and zip code no matter what I do. I even made up a perverted song to help me remember it, but somehow the song gets scrambled in my head.

And being dumb (in a practical sense) worries me a lot, since I frequently feel my survival hanging by a few thin threads. And so I devote a lot of energy to “practivizing” myself but it never seems to help. For every little skill I gain, two slip out the other side.

Being practical is probably a state of mind, more than a set of skills & facts. So how can I get into this mindset? By carrying country stones in my pocket? (Stones are practical, aren’t they?) Eating dry wheat toast? (The texture seems practical somehow.) Wearing more brown colored clothes?

I think that last idea is the most practical of all. Brown is such a practical color. I used to have the idea that a person could become more practical by dressing up like a potato while singing songs about them, but now it seems to me that simply wearing a brown shirt would be a much more practical approach. Or perhaps a simple brown ribbon, tied around the wrist.

Categories
Hurricane, West Virginia Music & Songs Plants and the Emerald Kingdom

I am Nature

 

 

Rose. She likes the feel of your nose.
She knows that everyone knows her, chose her, sigh.
Brown. You like the feel of the ground.
To feel it blow all around you, down you, sigh.

Don’t let me slip through.
Don’t let me walk invisible by.
I am Nature; I get you high.

Green. Too many places unseen.
Too many footsteps behind you, bind you, why?
Stray. Seek everything far away.
Don’t let nobody scold you, mold you, try.

Don’t let me slip through.
Don’t let me walk invisible by.
I am Nature; I get you high.

Burn. Too many pages to learn.
Too many pages to follow, swallow, sigh.
Strive. You always fought to survive.
You always fought them to conquest, multiply.

Don’t let me slip through.
Don’t let me walk invisible by.
I am Nature; I get you high.

 

MP3 (Free): I Am Nature

Categories
Earth, Pink, Mothers, Love Hurricane, West Virginia Music & Songs Purple, Magic & Sorcerers Red, Soldiers, & Fire

The Brown Library

 

He thought there must be some lines in the earth he could follow,
Hidden by snow, but he’d possibly find them in spring.
A grid made of brown that would lead to the crown of tomorrow…

Hail to the rose!
Hail to the sky!
Teach me to live;
Teach me to die.

In the snow it was cold but some hope filled his body;
Golden liquid that quickened the fire in his brain.
He had a theory the earth was surrounded by knowledge;
A shimmering library accessed by unbearable pain.

When I close my eyes- Ah!
Like a flame through my fingers it burns, like a fire through my heart.
When I close my eyes- No!
It eludes me a pain in my shoulders, a dimming echo.

Hail to the rose!
Hail to the sky!
Teach me to live,
Teach me to die.

His blue eyes scanned the skies though he knew they were empty;
Only fools look for schools where the airy birds fly.
Something told him the brown of the ground held the answers;
His desire for the fire left him willing to die.

Won’t you take me inside of your library
Prepared to hurt, lay my screams in your dirt?
Won’t you take me inside of your library
Prepared to bleed for the answers I need?

Hail to the rose!
Hail to the sky!
Teach me to live,
Teach me to die.

 

Download MP3: The Brown Library

Categories
Earth, Pink, Mothers, Love Hurricane, West Virginia Music & Songs Plants and the Emerald Kingdom Uncategorized

Potatoes in a Field

 

Hunched in a field, you sing in deep voicesPotato in a Field
The seeds and the soil of a world without choices
Take off your clothes at the end of the day
Lie down in a bed made of burlap and hay

The sun sinks, the sky pinks through your window so crude
Your feet hard, your back scarred, your stomach needs food
But you see your ancestors line up in brown
You hear their solemn songs sung in a round

Voice so low, Voices so deep
They crossed the ocean for you
They crossed the ocean so you could arrive
They never died.

Wiping your brow with the back of your brown hand
Your eyes are like horses, they run across this land
You see more than most, around corners and curves
Your heavy mind stays when the lighter mind swerves

Steady and patient, heavy and kind
Wearing brown pants made of burlap and twine
Nose to the grindstone, monks of the dirt
Callouses, sunsets, and visions that hurt

Voice so low, Voices so deep
They crossed the ocean for you
They crossed the ocean so you could arrive
They never died.

Your eyes follow time when it curves round the bend
You watch all the lighter ones run to destruction
They were mistaken, they thought life had an end
They ate all their seeds and then came to the bend

Shocked to discover the road just continued
Forced to keep marching without any food
You hear their cries and it makes your heart burn
But how can you give to them the things they must earn?

Voice so low, Voices so deep
They crossed the ocean for you
They crossed the ocean so you could arrive
They never died.

You know forever, you know eternity
As plain as the table where you sit for your cup of tea
You counsel your children to never waste seeds
Life is long, you must be strong, persist in good deeds.

You tell them to remember when they labor in the fields
To listen to the voices that sing in their ears
To those who are patient all will be revealed
Remember who you are, my sons- potatoes in a field.

Voice so low, Voices so deep
They crossed the ocean for you
They crossed the ocean so you could arrive
They never died.

 

Download MP3: Potatoes in a Field

Categories
Hurricane, West Virginia

Days of Mustard and Brown

So far, my time in West Virginia has been lit by two spirit guides- the colors mustard and brown.  I used to hate these muddy earth tones, but since moving here I have craved them like a drug. Every morning must begin with a brown or mustard coffee mug, and every evening must end with brown checkered curtains drawn over windows filled with amber glass.Brown and Mustard

If it wasn’t for brown and mustard, I’m not sure how I would have survived the extreme isolation. After all, the only person I know here is James, and he spends most of his time at work. A more practical person might make an effort to actually meet people, but, as for me, I can’t be bothered.

Because, for starters, despite feeling depressed by the isolation, I could never be sure if it was the ACTUAL isolation that was dragging me down, or just the IDEA of isolation. My whole life I’ve been surrounded by the idea that being alone is not only dangerous to your health but an indication that you are an unloveable creep. James, on the other hand, frequently reminds that there is no one I admire who didn’t spend a good deal of time in isolation.

Still, all this alone time left me feeling depressed and despondent. It felt as though my self was dissolving, and there was no one there at all, just an emptiness. And only the colors of mustard and brown could touch this hollow feeling, throwing handful after handful of dirt into the sad gully. After 9 months of their earthy influences, I no longer feel isolated or alone at all, despite the fact that my situation has in no way changed.

From mustard, I learned the reality of hope- that no problem lasts forever- and also the virtue of endurance. Sometimes, victory consists of simply hanging on and persevering until circumstances change of their own accord.

From brown, I learned the brain’s magic power to brighten to gloomy corners of our life. If our external life is temporarily dark and depressing, we can generate a light from within simply by engaging our intellect. I found that as long as I kept my brain engaged and stimulated, by studying math or chemistry for example, that it was actually impossible to feel depressed or lonely.

At times, I did feel superstitious about the potential hazards of overusing my brain, having tended to see the brain and heart as opponents, with one gaining ground only at the other’s expense. But eventually, I discarded this notion. After all, the heart craves things and people to relate to, and it is the brain who supplies us with these friends by illuminating the people around us, and sometimes by illuminating the friend-filled world inside our mind.

So far, my favorite intellectual pastime has been chemistry, a subject which seemed so cold and chalky in school. But now I find it heartwarming to get to know the elements and to witnesses their relationships dramas, which seem so much to mirror our own.

Still, as nice as it has been, spring fever is now reminding me that I can’t remain in this mustardy, brown cocoon forever.