Our culture is melancholy for the days that were never theirs, nostalgia dripping from every perfectly diminished Polaroid picture. Our culture wants to live the life of luxury, fame, wealth, but we crave the life of love and two bit camera tricks. We want the world to mean so much more than it does -- a 500 Days of Summer syndrome between nature and humanity.
We want summer nights driving in the car to the soft melodies of star's music, looking up to the pitch black sky to try and find the source of such longing. We live between the happy moments and the sad, the calm and the adventure, somehow between yet not accomplishing either.
Our culture longs for the things they don't have. The warm nights with lovers never quite lovely enough for the taste of a romantic, too intimate for the independent. Where is the line drawn? It surely must be dotted because we've fallen through the cracks without a map to lead us home again. The minotaur knows no sorrow compared to the labyrinth we must maneuver to reach our goal. The sphinx knows no riddle like that of the human condition.
We are contradictory. We leave behind that which is meaningful in order to feel meaning, yet desire those we've left or lost. We want to feel the anchor drop upon finding the photo of a long lost friend, the edges frayed, the filtered photo fading away, losing its inhabitants. Yet no such photo exists. It never has. Our photos are yet incomplete, and that is the feeling we are in search of. To feel incomplete. To be alive, to be loving, to be lost and lonely and craving, to be wishful, is to be incomplete.
Our culture is lustful
Our culture is lost
Our culture is longing
We are joyous
We are wistful
We are found
We are gone
We are between.
Thursday, September 19, 2013
Monday, July 15, 2013
To A Dearest Friend
Yearning. It's one of the most complex creations. It begins in the feeling of desire, branching across nostalgia and melancholy to rest in its conclusion at the new flower buds created at the branch's tip. Yearning is a tree that sprouts quickly and is forever rooted, deep in the core of your chest. It feeds off of your fears, your hopes, desires, the spiders that crawl in your limbs and the sun that shines through your eyes.
Yearning appears and suddenly you're lost in memory. The years on the sand; the whispers in a dim-lit volvo; the afternoons of tea and hospitality. Then can never be now and now can never then, but with the right tune and a quiet mind you can bring back those moments with such clarity that sometimes your yearning is satiated. You've fed the beast and woke the melancholic monster hiding deeper within, and that's a monster best dealt with from a distance.
Yearning is forgotten during daylight hours. It is a vampire of the mind, sheltering itself from the comfort of sunlight and calling out to its lovers as the clock strikes midnight. Its in those late moments that yearning leaves its desire irreplaceable. A placebo here bears no warmth of ignorance. The lack of medicine burns as the infection spreads until no friends could ease the pain of yearning for that closest friend. Yet upon waking in the morning the infection has cleared, the memory erased. The vow to call is lost, or if remembered becomes the glint of electronic words sent into the air.
Yearning becomes a blog post in the late evening hours. It becomes a tree of nostalgia. It becomes a picture of silhouettes in the fading evening light. A vow to call. A letter crafted with weary eyes addressed
To A Dearest Friend,
and what was intended as just a stylistic flair in an over stylized attempt to communicate an aspect of human-ness becomes something more literal. An actual letter, slowly losing style and gaining only friendship and longing, reading:
I miss you, dearly. Though it never seems we meet for long enough, I have found you to be one of the few people I miss when I'm away, wholly and truly. I am absolutely honored and joyful to be able to call you my friend, and someone who I can rely on. Someone I can joke with, have fun with, drink tea with; someone I can be honest with, talk about deep complexities of life with, or debate symbolism with. I have no other friend nearly like you. And I am failing right now at describing what I mean completely. But as is said, these words are futile devices.
and the letter, leaving with a simple
See you soon
left so much left to be said with no way to say it, and left the yearning, the memories, the melancholy for another night, when the daylight waned again.
Yearning appears and suddenly you're lost in memory. The years on the sand; the whispers in a dim-lit volvo; the afternoons of tea and hospitality. Then can never be now and now can never then, but with the right tune and a quiet mind you can bring back those moments with such clarity that sometimes your yearning is satiated. You've fed the beast and woke the melancholic monster hiding deeper within, and that's a monster best dealt with from a distance.
Yearning is forgotten during daylight hours. It is a vampire of the mind, sheltering itself from the comfort of sunlight and calling out to its lovers as the clock strikes midnight. Its in those late moments that yearning leaves its desire irreplaceable. A placebo here bears no warmth of ignorance. The lack of medicine burns as the infection spreads until no friends could ease the pain of yearning for that closest friend. Yet upon waking in the morning the infection has cleared, the memory erased. The vow to call is lost, or if remembered becomes the glint of electronic words sent into the air.
Yearning becomes a blog post in the late evening hours. It becomes a tree of nostalgia. It becomes a picture of silhouettes in the fading evening light. A vow to call. A letter crafted with weary eyes addressed
To A Dearest Friend,
and what was intended as just a stylistic flair in an over stylized attempt to communicate an aspect of human-ness becomes something more literal. An actual letter, slowly losing style and gaining only friendship and longing, reading:
I miss you, dearly. Though it never seems we meet for long enough, I have found you to be one of the few people I miss when I'm away, wholly and truly. I am absolutely honored and joyful to be able to call you my friend, and someone who I can rely on. Someone I can joke with, have fun with, drink tea with; someone I can be honest with, talk about deep complexities of life with, or debate symbolism with. I have no other friend nearly like you. And I am failing right now at describing what I mean completely. But as is said, these words are futile devices.
and the letter, leaving with a simple
See you soon
left so much left to be said with no way to say it, and left the yearning, the memories, the melancholy for another night, when the daylight waned again.
Friday, January 25, 2013
Never Lovers Lost in the Sea
The wind whipped through the half-rolled window of the bronze jeep and wrestled his dark hair from its mold. As he drove down the overgrown road creatures of all sizes leapt from the brush that was shoved aside by the grumbling vehicle, this foreign being in the world of instincts. With reckless abandon, the beast and its inhabitants reformed the long forgotten road, a path to the edge of existence - the edge of thought and the edge of reason. When they set out on this journey, they searched for a place to get lost, though not physically. They sought a place to be lost in an absolute, lost in a nothingness. To forget about existence entirely.
This is the night they found what they were looking for.
The team alternated driving and resting, rarely settling down for long in any one location. To settle is to have found. So they slept on the road. Faith drove most often, though she was not the one to have discovered their location. It was Sane's Jeep they drove, but he was commonly found asleep in the back seat. In fact, Sane, Faith, and the third companion Rose were all asleep when the beast growled down the path. But the driver knew the way.
When the Jeep began to draw tracks in the sand, dusk was making its arrival. The creatures of day were settling into themselves for the night, while the darker unknowns hid just out of sight of prying eyes, always in the peripheral. They meant no harm. The passengers awoke as the beast shuddered to sleep, reluctant to settle into itself and see nothing to be found. Unlike the other creatures, this beast was alone.
Faith was the first to sink her toes into the sand. She walked a short distance away and sprawled herself on the cooling sand, her soft blonde hair reflecting the ideals of the sunset and her eyes closed to the world. Rose came and sat next to her, looking out over the sea and watching as the tide repeated its endless cycle, too timid to reach up to these new visitors and too interested to leave completely. Sane stood behind them, looking up at the changing sky, watching as the stars and the sun intermingled, destined to be acquainted but never lovers. The driver was the last from the vehicle. He left the keys in the ignition, and walked over to his friends, his strangers, his lovers. He let them be for a while, soaking in their existence, before saying with a smile
"Lets go"
The group looked at each other and quietly smiled. They took each others hands and were lovers on their walk to the tide's edge. As their grips loosened and their hands fell from each other they found themselves as strangers, yet strangers with impossible knowledge. They stripped from their clothes, leaving the denim, the cotton, the polyester to the creatures who made their home in the night. As Sane looked back one last time, the road they travelled down was no more, swallowed by the forest, swallowed by the darkness, swallowed by the found. The bronze beast was gone as well, its tracks leading to an absence. But that was of no concern. Nothing was of concern any longer.
They stepped out into the sea, leaving the beach behind them with their past. All that was left for them was to move forward, go farther into the ocean. And so they went.
As the sun disappeared behind the horizon, so did they. They were no longer to be seen, no longer to exist or not exist. They simply vanished on the other side of the edge, lost in the sea. Lost together.
This is the night they found what they were looking for.
The team alternated driving and resting, rarely settling down for long in any one location. To settle is to have found. So they slept on the road. Faith drove most often, though she was not the one to have discovered their location. It was Sane's Jeep they drove, but he was commonly found asleep in the back seat. In fact, Sane, Faith, and the third companion Rose were all asleep when the beast growled down the path. But the driver knew the way.
When the Jeep began to draw tracks in the sand, dusk was making its arrival. The creatures of day were settling into themselves for the night, while the darker unknowns hid just out of sight of prying eyes, always in the peripheral. They meant no harm. The passengers awoke as the beast shuddered to sleep, reluctant to settle into itself and see nothing to be found. Unlike the other creatures, this beast was alone.
Faith was the first to sink her toes into the sand. She walked a short distance away and sprawled herself on the cooling sand, her soft blonde hair reflecting the ideals of the sunset and her eyes closed to the world. Rose came and sat next to her, looking out over the sea and watching as the tide repeated its endless cycle, too timid to reach up to these new visitors and too interested to leave completely. Sane stood behind them, looking up at the changing sky, watching as the stars and the sun intermingled, destined to be acquainted but never lovers. The driver was the last from the vehicle. He left the keys in the ignition, and walked over to his friends, his strangers, his lovers. He let them be for a while, soaking in their existence, before saying with a smile
"Lets go"
The group looked at each other and quietly smiled. They took each others hands and were lovers on their walk to the tide's edge. As their grips loosened and their hands fell from each other they found themselves as strangers, yet strangers with impossible knowledge. They stripped from their clothes, leaving the denim, the cotton, the polyester to the creatures who made their home in the night. As Sane looked back one last time, the road they travelled down was no more, swallowed by the forest, swallowed by the darkness, swallowed by the found. The bronze beast was gone as well, its tracks leading to an absence. But that was of no concern. Nothing was of concern any longer.
They stepped out into the sea, leaving the beach behind them with their past. All that was left for them was to move forward, go farther into the ocean. And so they went.
As the sun disappeared behind the horizon, so did they. They were no longer to be seen, no longer to exist or not exist. They simply vanished on the other side of the edge, lost in the sea. Lost together.
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
To Those Ending an Era, or Tomorrow You'll Be Gone, or What Will You Save?
It's happening. You may not be aware, or it may be what is defining your life. You may not feel anything or you may have lost the ability to feel anything because you've felt everything. Despite the combination, it is happening; you are completing an era, and it will change you. Your giddy rondo will move into the next movement and become an elegy, but unlike music you will never again revisit the era from which you depart. You may again hear a theme or motif from a treasured movement later in your symphony, but the exact expression created by the intricate weaving of your emotions during this era will never be reprieved - at least not long enough to satisfy that nostalgic craving.
So take your time. Let the taste linger before you cleanse your palate and move on. Spend time with those around you that you know you'll never see again, but more importantly spend time with those most important to you. Sometimes, it's the least expected people who leave your life. And they are the ones who will sadden you the most, once you realize. Last you remember, your best friend and you had been laughing, crying, skinny dipping in the creek, getting existential under the stars, understanding each other completely during the silences. Where did it all go? Well you see, when you left, a great divide opened up and began consuming your understanding. Playing "Let's Get Coffee and Catch Up on Life!" slowly becomes a futile attempt to grab the most important things from falling into the divide. It's like the question "What five items would you save if your house was burning down?" Except the items aren't necessarily material. I'll save the boy who took my innocence, the friend who killed himself, the glasses broken while drunkenly streaking, the album that got me through the winter, and the knowledge gained from a complete stranger you spent the day with and never saw again. But all the little bits that make up the idiosyncrasies that make you unique get burned up. So... What will you save?
At the end of an era, everything becomes symbolic. Giving your box of old toys to Goodwill becomes a metaphor for your loss of innocence. A party around a fire becomes a parting of ways, and the burning of what brought you all together. In reality, symbolism is only real in that it's human.
It's happening. And you're intensely aware. It's the beginning of summer and it's the months for goodbyes, for nostalgia, and coping. You'll laugh, you'll cry, you'll do things you never thought you'd do before. And you'll think about everything more than you ever have before. You may figure out, perhaps, that the question is not what will you save but what CAN you save. And whatever you find you can save, hold onto for dear life because what stays now will be some of the most important aspects of your life. And suddenly the summer is coming to a close. It was a later and its become a now and you have no idea how that happened I mean you only closed your eyes for one night didn't you? And after one more night theres only one week left and there's so much to do but doing anything makes you break down and cry into your best friends shoulder and the moving van is all packed, hey do you think we could get some coffee I need energy and I leave soon? Now. Tomorrow. better hurry. Say goodbye to family, say goodbye to best friends, goodbyes to friends and acquaintances who will completely fall into the divide themselves. Say goodbye to your bed and your dog and the tree you would climb and read in back when you were young and innocent. What do you mean that was only a month ago? i'm leaving, no time for memories now, unless we're making them. memory making machines, set precariously on the edge of the divide. be careful not to fall in.
Tomorrow you'll be gone. we'll all be gone, won't we? no one left... hey I was literally just about to call you, i really need to see you. okay perfect, let's get coffee. I need energy, just put the last box into the car. yeah we leave tomorrow afternoon. so i need coffee because i dont want to close my eyes again. Let's not close our eyes together. see you soon.
I know, and youll let me know next time youre back in town right? hug me tight please or i wont make it. I'm going to fall asleep again soon, I can tell. I don't want to, but I'm going to. Tomorrow will be my last day awake for a while. oh wait i mean today, i need to go now or we'll be late... i cant do this i can't say goodbye please don't leave me. I know you're not leaving me i'll always be here too just for you...
I'll see you soon.
And you watch out the back window as you leave them behind, waving, the tears hidden in the shine of the sun. You pass the places you've always known and you'll always remember. And even though you may return, they won't be the same place anymore. Your friends won't be the same people. The sun won't have the same shine and the tears won't have the same weight. It's always the unexpected. It's always the most painful. Changing and forgetting - these are the hardest of it all......
Yeah, I remember that! Oh god, that day was perfect. And then when we went down to the lighthouse and watched the tide roll out and the sun go down? I miss those days. Eh this coffee is a bit burned. My friend at college loves burned coffee and I don't understand. Yeah, I broke up with Erik... it was about a month ago or so. I met this other guy and it really made me realize, you know?, that like I wasn't getting what I wanted out of life and I needed to change things. Get back to where I was last summer. Yeah! Oh this scar? It was stupid really, i was like running around and a friend from college bumped me with her car and I fell onto a curb. Hahaha it wasn't so bad but ya know?
Yeah, I've really missed you too. So much. I remember leaving... like it was yesterday. Wait wasn't it? I think I'm waking up again. huh? what'd you say? Ohh yeah, you're so right. Well, anyway.....
What have you saved?
So take your time. Let the taste linger before you cleanse your palate and move on. Spend time with those around you that you know you'll never see again, but more importantly spend time with those most important to you. Sometimes, it's the least expected people who leave your life. And they are the ones who will sadden you the most, once you realize. Last you remember, your best friend and you had been laughing, crying, skinny dipping in the creek, getting existential under the stars, understanding each other completely during the silences. Where did it all go? Well you see, when you left, a great divide opened up and began consuming your understanding. Playing "Let's Get Coffee and Catch Up on Life!" slowly becomes a futile attempt to grab the most important things from falling into the divide. It's like the question "What five items would you save if your house was burning down?" Except the items aren't necessarily material. I'll save the boy who took my innocence, the friend who killed himself, the glasses broken while drunkenly streaking, the album that got me through the winter, and the knowledge gained from a complete stranger you spent the day with and never saw again. But all the little bits that make up the idiosyncrasies that make you unique get burned up. So... What will you save?
At the end of an era, everything becomes symbolic. Giving your box of old toys to Goodwill becomes a metaphor for your loss of innocence. A party around a fire becomes a parting of ways, and the burning of what brought you all together. In reality, symbolism is only real in that it's human.
It's happening. And you're intensely aware. It's the beginning of summer and it's the months for goodbyes, for nostalgia, and coping. You'll laugh, you'll cry, you'll do things you never thought you'd do before. And you'll think about everything more than you ever have before. You may figure out, perhaps, that the question is not what will you save but what CAN you save. And whatever you find you can save, hold onto for dear life because what stays now will be some of the most important aspects of your life. And suddenly the summer is coming to a close. It was a later and its become a now and you have no idea how that happened I mean you only closed your eyes for one night didn't you? And after one more night theres only one week left and there's so much to do but doing anything makes you break down and cry into your best friends shoulder and the moving van is all packed, hey do you think we could get some coffee I need energy and I leave soon? Now. Tomorrow. better hurry. Say goodbye to family, say goodbye to best friends, goodbyes to friends and acquaintances who will completely fall into the divide themselves. Say goodbye to your bed and your dog and the tree you would climb and read in back when you were young and innocent. What do you mean that was only a month ago? i'm leaving, no time for memories now, unless we're making them. memory making machines, set precariously on the edge of the divide. be careful not to fall in.
Tomorrow you'll be gone. we'll all be gone, won't we? no one left... hey I was literally just about to call you, i really need to see you. okay perfect, let's get coffee. I need energy, just put the last box into the car. yeah we leave tomorrow afternoon. so i need coffee because i dont want to close my eyes again. Let's not close our eyes together. see you soon.
I know, and youll let me know next time youre back in town right? hug me tight please or i wont make it. I'm going to fall asleep again soon, I can tell. I don't want to, but I'm going to. Tomorrow will be my last day awake for a while. oh wait i mean today, i need to go now or we'll be late... i cant do this i can't say goodbye please don't leave me. I know you're not leaving me i'll always be here too just for you...
I'll see you soon.
And you watch out the back window as you leave them behind, waving, the tears hidden in the shine of the sun. You pass the places you've always known and you'll always remember. And even though you may return, they won't be the same place anymore. Your friends won't be the same people. The sun won't have the same shine and the tears won't have the same weight. It's always the unexpected. It's always the most painful. Changing and forgetting - these are the hardest of it all......
Yeah, I remember that! Oh god, that day was perfect. And then when we went down to the lighthouse and watched the tide roll out and the sun go down? I miss those days. Eh this coffee is a bit burned. My friend at college loves burned coffee and I don't understand. Yeah, I broke up with Erik... it was about a month ago or so. I met this other guy and it really made me realize, you know?, that like I wasn't getting what I wanted out of life and I needed to change things. Get back to where I was last summer. Yeah! Oh this scar? It was stupid really, i was like running around and a friend from college bumped me with her car and I fell onto a curb. Hahaha it wasn't so bad but ya know?
Yeah, I've really missed you too. So much. I remember leaving... like it was yesterday. Wait wasn't it? I think I'm waking up again. huh? what'd you say? Ohh yeah, you're so right. Well, anyway.....
What have you saved?
Friday, May 25, 2012
Existential
We live in a cloud. We get caught up in the fictional, dedicate our hearts to objects that can never love. And in the cloud we can’t see the darkness of death ahead - the absolute abyss of nothingness afterwards. What’s the point of it all when in the end we disappear in nonexistence? We can only serve to benefit others once we’re gone, so why are we such selfish beings? The finality of existence is one of the most frightening things, and it’s inevitable. So why not make it worth something.
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