Ingrain
Some pictures reveal quiet worlds, long cumulonimbus clouds, that take just a few minutes to expand from the height of the sky to the level of the horizon, all the details that glide away and those that remain, grass burnt by the sun, brilliant tarmac that blinds and the weight of gears through the pedal, who we give these moments to changes I suppose, those we introduce to our memories, the small set pieces we use, to give some credit, some context, but it’s still difficult, we can’t bring others into a memory they were not a part of, but we try, so we hope they are guided through them as though by the hands of ghosts, that pass against them like a soft wind, rustling against the things we want them to see, the things we want them to know from our past, or about us, the weight of that stone, the smoothness of the tree trunk, the heat that stayed in the asphalt which warmed our backs as we lay upon it during the early hours of the night, the melody of cicadas, and more than anything else the things we wanted to say, to communicate clearly, explicitly that day but didn’t, because they didn’t seem urgent, because we thought we had all the time in the world to say them. It’s strange to think we’re never more than a moment from anyone else, whatever distance it may be we all experience the same time, our experience of the universe unfolding at the same pace for all of us here, but, we don’t share much of it, on any given day I might know a thousand things that no one else will know that day, small things, unimportant things I suppose, but they add up, for years I might know something no one else does, we’re privy to so much that it somehow becomes common and we forget that it’s special, so when we meet someone new we find entire worlds we didn’t know about, ones previous silent, with the main difference being simply that it’s another protagonist in the stories, but it feels like it’s a separate world altogether.
A song a friend sent me today, the song itself starts at 1:10 in http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hRhon7F-vOQ I haven’t listened to the lyrics properly but the guitar is enough for me.
you can’t bring others into a memory. i feel like i’ve never quite accepted this enough to even acknowledge this. what a horrible little moment of realisation i am having, haha. i have so much to say to this but … i wont.
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also, food/sex comparison is great, definitely coming from a male. expect future questions regarding similar matters to be directed your way, ey. i’m just suspicious because of this huge gap of missing confidence/knowledge in my head. the age thing i think just becomes a problem because in missing that big chunk of knowledge, i can’t accurately assess anything. because i’m
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ignorant and naive and stupid and can either choose to be totally exposed or completely shut off. i can’t work out how to find the inbetween. anyway. going to stop thinking so much about it. take your advice and just do whatever haha
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Patrick?
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A bad reason yes… probably so but a legit reason none the less. I find it hard to write in here anyway though. When I first started a lot of people kept in touch and noted and now… not so much. I feel unimportant if you will.
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A few things. The exact OD layout of your previous diary, for one. Age. Writing style, of course. Oh and the fact I saw you writing novel-like comments on dali’s diary (that’s how I found you, wasn’t looking). And when I went back an entry I saw Alle’s name. That sealed the deal. I’m working out how to respond to your bitch of an email.
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RYN: I am not a tattooist, but I am an artist and I am the one that many of my friends come to to draw out their tattoos. they come to me with ideas and visions and I get to find ways to make them come alive. I do it for free for people I care about and I do it in my free time because I love exercising my talent that way.
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ryn:yes it is..so hungry but soooo lazy to get up and eat anything..lol at least i wasn’t so lazy i ate while sittin there! lol 🙂 And yes..no news is good news.
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So much of life is about memory, when considered. Relationships are about creating your own, new memories to override the memories of others past. Songs seem to often be about recreating a memory. Many a partner I’ve had has been fixed on a certain something and when pressed, it’s because they associate a memory to it. Gah, wish you allowed private notes 🙂
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This is interesting.
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ryn: haha yeahhh i can’t help it, i just type and type and type. but i’ll enjoy reading back on it in years to come.
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why do you keep reposting this? (or are you editing…?)
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why yes, yes it is zanzibar haha. personally i hate it, but on the roof, on a quiet night, it’s not too bad. it’s very strange having someone from sydney on here. the fact that you can tell where i was standing just by the rooftops
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