breakdown's coming up 'round the bend

Fool's Gold
The Stone Roses
listen
The gold road's sure a long road
winds on through the hills for fifteen days

The pack on my back is achin'
the straps seem to cut me like a knife

The gold road's sure a long road
winds on through the hills for fifteen days

The pack on my back is achin'
the straps seem to cut me like a knife

I'm no clown, I won't back down
I don't need you to tell me what's goin' down
down, down, down, down, da down, down, down
down, down, down, down, da down, down, down

I'm standing alone
I'm watching you all
I'm seeing you sinking
I'm standing alone
you're weighing the gold
I'm watching you sinking
Fool's gold

These boots were made for walking
the Marquis De Sade never made no boots like these

Gold's just around the corner
breakdown's coming up 'round the bend

(how ya doin'?)

Sometimes you have to try to get along dear
I know the truth and I know what you're thinking

Down, down, down, down, da down, down, down

I'm standing alone
I'm watching you all
I'm seeing you sinking
I'm standing alone
you're weighing the gold
I'm watching you sinking
Fool's gold

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Earlier this evening, I wanted a cigarette...sooo badly...(yes, I have started smoking again...sshhhh). And I couldn't leave the house at the time to have one (no smoking in the apt.). So I, for some reason, started singing in my head "I wanna have a smoke" to the tune of "I wanna be adored" by The Stone Roses. Which led me to thinking about them and that song (so simple...so good). And here I am. Melancholy, craving nicotine (still) and on a Stone Roses kick.

I'm in a craptastic mood right now.

Fool's Gold.

I feel like a fucking prospector in the Wild West during the California Gold Rush of 1849. But not. Because everything in my pan, starts out having such great promise, all glittery and shiny, and then it turns out not to be the real thing.

Sometimes I find out within a month or two.

Sometimes it takes me a decade or so.

But the result is the same.

Promises turned to naught.



Image by Aeric M. Goujon, October 2007

And I'm trying to hold on

Soul Inside
Soft Cell
listen
The wind in my hair
And the black in my eyes
I was holding back tears
As I reeled with surprise
There was no one to phone
I just chewed at the time
I was waving goodbye
To control of my mind

And the beat of my heart
Marks the passing of time
And I just wanna scream to the sky
There are times when my mind is an explosion of feelings
I'm trying to hold on to the soul inside

I go looking for lies
In your play-the-game eyes
But I couldn't find the way out
The where's or the why's
Should I laugh
Should I cry
Should I live
Should I die?
It's a wild celebration of feelings inside

And the beat of my heart
Marks the passing of time
And I just wanna scream to the sky
And there are times when my mind is an explosion of feelings
I'm trying to hold on to the soul inside (x3)

(I've got to hold on to the soul inside)

Inside...
It's a wild celebration
(It's a wild)
It a wild celebration of feelings inside
And it's tearing me...
And it's tearing me up
It's a wild...
It's a wild celebration of feelings inside

It's a wild... it's a wild...
Celebration of feelings inside

And I'm trying to hold on
And I'm trying to hold on
And I'm trying
Hold on....

Feelings.... inside....

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Life has never been as topsy-turvy for me as it has been the last few months. Unemployment (from my "regular job"), financial woes resulting from that and all sorts of miscellaneous trials & tribulations personally. Wow.

It's not that life is entirely *bad*. It's not. There are bright spots and good things. It's just that it's not been my normal, predictable routine life. The one I had nicely become accustomed to. In a way, that's good. It's shaken me out a bit from my complacence and acceptance of a life sometimes half-lived.

I realize I want *more* out of certain people & things. I want more out of my life. The problem is that little miss "has a road-map & plan for everything" doesn't know how to get that *more* without losing some of what has defined her and her life thus far.

Am I making any sense? I fear not. Which is why I seem to spend most days curled underneath the blankies with the cat...numbed into inaction.

Christmas is coming. Maybe I can ask Santa for a little clarity instead of just my "explosion of feelings".

Drawing by Jonathan Herbert, November 2008

What We Needs Is Just What We Wants

Everything Hits At Once
Spoon
listen
Don’t Say A Word
The Last One’s Still Stinging
Back A My Mind
I Feel That Phone Ringing
And There Is No Way Back From This

Everything Hits At Once
What We Needs Is Just What We Wants
I Go To Sleep But Think That You’re Next To Me
I Go To Sleep And Think You’re Next To Me

Don’t Make A Move
When I Walk Out Don’t Follow Me
Out In The Car
Can Feel It Calling Me
And Ooh I would love to stay

But I Can Still Change My Mind Tonight
I Gotta Change My Mind Somehow
I Go To Sleep Alone But Think That You’re Next To Me
Everything Hits At Once Tonight
Outside Is All Lit Up With Ad Lights
In Traffic We Become On The Way Back Home
Part Of Something Bigger Than Just On Our Own

I Gotta Change My Mind Tonight
I Can Still Change My Mind Tonight
Merging In Traffic Cross The Lanes And Then We Become
Something Bigger Than Just Any One
Oh And Everything Hits At Once
What We Needs Is Just What We Wants


I Go To Sleep And Think That You’re Next To Me
I Go To Sleep And Think That You’re Next To Me

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everything *has* hit all at once in the last 10 or so weeks. Those of you who really know me, know exactly what I mean and am talking (writing) about.

Those of you who don't know me, well, trust me - shit has certainly hit the fan. Almost every aspect of my life has a wee bit of poop on it.

I'm not necessarily complaining. Just observing...and cleaning up. I'm over the shock of it all (almost)...and ready to get rid of the stink and stain. I just need to figure out exactly where to start. And once started, what to salvage, and what to just throw away.

I need to figure out what I truly need...and what I want. And the difference between the two.

Image by Trashy T Modelography, August 2008

But she expressed herself in many different ways

She's Lost Control

Joy Division

listen
Confusion in her eyes that says it all.
She's lost control.
And she's clinging to the nearest passer by,
She's lost control.
And she gave away the secrets of her past,
And said I've lost control again,
And a voice that told her when and where to act,
She said I've lost control again.

And she turned around and took me by the hand and said,
I've lost control again.
And how I'll never know just why or understand,
She said I've lost control again.
And she screamed out kicking on her side and said,
I've lost control again.
And seized up on the floor, I thought she'd die.
She said I've lost control.
She's lost control again.
She's lost control.
She's lost control again.
She's lost control.

Well I had to 'phone her friend to state my case,
And say she's lost control again.
And she showed up all the errors and mistakes,
And said I've lost control again.
But she expressed herself in many different ways,
Until she lost control again.
And walked upon the edge of no escape,
And laughed I've lost control.
She's lost control again.
She's lost control.
She's lost control again.
She's lost control.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Life is just far too strange these days.

Nothing is the way it used to be.

Nor is it the way it should be.

Just somewhere in between.

I gave up trying to understand.

And lost control.

But [I think] in doing so, I may just have found that piece of me I had given up for lost ever so long ago.

Images & Triptych by Velvet D'Amour, September 2008

but i feel alright when i come undone

Tribulations
LCD Soundsystem

Everybody makes mistakes
but i feel alright when i come undone
you are not making me wait
but it seems alright as long as something's happening
i try to make you late
but you fighting me off like a fire does
you try making me wait
but it feels alright as long as something's happening

get your payments from the nation
for your trials and tribulations

you try to make me wait
you come around when it's come undone
everybody makes you late
and it's never you because you're always thinking
i try making you wait
and give you me some like you give it good
everybody makes mistakes
but it seems it's mine that always keep on stinging

get your payments from the nation
for your trials and tribulations

you try making me wait
but you come undone when you come undone
everybody makes mistakes
but it's always mine that seem to keep on sticking

get your payments from the nation
for your trials and tribulations

The last few weeks have been interesting at best, coming undone at worst. I guess the truth is somewhere in the middle. At least I hope it is.

(I've cried multiple times today...)

Time for me to re-evaluate a whole host of things in my personal and professional life.

Time to take several deep breaths and not lose perspective, which I fear I might be losing, or conversely looking at with microscopic precision and blowing out of proportion.

Time to be patient

Time to not over-think.

Time to change, evolve, grow. Which is all very well and good, if I didn't constantly feel like staying under the covers with the cat in my arms.

OK, so maybe I don't feel that alright when I come undone. At last the truth comes out...

Almost.

Image by Tom Spianti, taken October 2008

Well Rehearsed

Loves Lost Guarantee
Rogue Wave

Fire's rage down in the north
Hell is here, what a source
Man lost his little machine
hair and bone and maybelline
Then you go for your one shot
to where you are

Bad vibes, from love's underside
it made her bleed he'll confide
beavers are hard to come by
eyes are closed and hands are tied
Then you go for your one shot
to where you are

Oh what you need, so guaranteed
Oh what you need, so guaranteed

Loves comes like a Kennedy curse
The victim whom is well rehearsed
You paint over any mistake
but you cant remove the original thing
then you go for your one shot
to where you are, where you are

Oh what you need, so guaranteed
Oh what you need, so guaranteed

Oh what you need, so guaranteed
Oh what you need, so guaranteed
Oh what you need, so guaranteed
Oh what you need, so guaranteed
oh, oh, oh...
so guaranteed

There are no guarantees in life, and I'm not even sure if I'm looking for one. I do know that I'm looking for what I've lost though. There's a piece of me missing. But I'm not quite sure which piece yet. I'm tempted to jump to conclusions...tempted to jump through hoops. I'm tempted.

And possibly just a little lost.

Vulnerability is not easy for me. Yes, I know that it typically isn't for most, if not all people. But man oh man. I've been thinking a fair bit these past few days about the ways in which I "protect" myself. I'm a fucking veritable fortress of defense mechanisms and power plays. Anything to not get hurt. Anything to not get close to getting hurt.

I'm ever so clever when it comes to pretense and masks, all in the name of self-preservation. So clever in fact that sometimes I don't even know I'm doing it until later, much later. I've devised some amazingly elaborate ways to hide in public. To protect myself. The problem I think is that with that much self-imposed artifice, one runs the risk of losing bits and pieces of oneself to the "image" - the "lie".

I think that's what I've managed to do. Protected myself so very much from all the possible points of ingress and injury to my psyche that I've somehow tied myself off from the world and from seeing myself as I truly want to be and could be.

Image by Brian Rawson, Spring 2006

The Journey

Changes
David Bowie

I still don't know what I was waiting for
And my time was running wild
A million dead-end streets
Every time I thought I'd got it made
It seemed the taste was not so sweet
So I turned myself to face me
But I've never caught a glimpse
Of how the others must see the faker
I'm much too fast to take that test

Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes
(Turn and face the stranger)
Ch-ch-Changes
Don't want to be a richer man
Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes
(Turn and face the stranger)
Ch-ch-Changes
Just gonna have to be a different man
Time may change me
But I can't trace time

I watch the ripples change their size
But never leave the stream
Of warm impermanence and
So the days float through my eyes
But still the days seem the same
And these children that you spit on
As they try to change their worlds
Are immune to your consultations
They're quite aware of what they're going through

Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes
(Turn and face the stranger)
Ch-ch-Changes
Don't tell them to grow up and out of it
Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes
(Turn and face the stranger)
Ch-ch-Changes
Where's your shame
You've left us up to our necks in it
Time may change me
But you can't trace time

Strange fascination, fascinating me
Changes are taking the pace I'm going through

Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes
(Turn and face the stranger)
Ch-ch-Changes
Oh, look out you rock 'n rollers
Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes
(Turn and face the stranger)
Ch-ch-Changes
Pretty soon you're gonna get a little older
Time may change me
But I can't trace time
I said that time may change me
But I can't trace time


This song started simmering in my head a couple of hours ago. At first it was just a gentle background melody tickling my brain....almost like pleasant muzak (is that an oxymoron?).

Then it evolved to snippets of the song. Bits and pieces that floated in from my subconscious and then flitted quickly out again - with one phrase in particular repeating itself more than others. Eventually, it began to get louder and more insistent...building into a dull roar - refusing to let me ignore it any longer. I can't get this song to now stop. It's on constant repeat. With that one phrase repeating more frequently than it is in the song.

And I know why.

I always have sought meaning for my circumstances and situations from lyrics and from poetry. Sometimes I think that I read too much into either or both. And this time, my subconscious did it for me.

I've been ruminating about a challenge of sorts posed to me. A rather tempting offer. Been thinking about it almost constantly for the awake parts of my life since it was presented. Trying to wrap my head around the many different layers...while at the same time trying to *not* get wrapped around the axle either.

Not easy. Not impossible. But not easy.

Interesting.

Not many people can challenge me properly. Or rather have me *take* the challenge. It has to be a careful balance of engaging & intriguing me without alienating me. It was quite the skillful [mental] seduction, very artful indeed.

The cynic in me would say that I have been mindfucked.

I'm choosing not to listen to her, but to listen to the music instead.


Image by Sanders McNew, taken Spring 2007

Disappointment & Hope

Circle The Fringes
The Gutter Twins

It's alright to take me down
Between the hook and the line I took
It's alright to drag the lake-
And find the things you lost

They don't wait in line-
To see me float
Or sleep above the Waves
They don't wait in line-
To bring me up-
They've seen enough today

All my Dreams stroll by unclothed
All my Dreams roll by unknown

It's alright to cave into a Love
Although it's not enough
Not enough to save you from yourself
Or what you love too much

And always deeper-
And still even deeper-
And I believe there's a Heaven below
All I see is a Dream
That lies beneath it all

There's a way about Her
She can make me-
Do things I ought not to do
Cut the line, and-
Count to Three, and-
Morph into another world

Start the wheel turnin'
On it, break me
Shown things I ought not have seen
Hung from rafters-
Mothers screaming
Born into an ugly world

All my Dreams stroll by unclothed
All my Dreams roll by unknown


Image by Brian Rawson, Summer 2007

The stars are filming us for no one

Miles Away
Carol Ann Duffy

I want you and you are not here. I pause
in this garden, breathing the colour thought is
before language into still air. Even your name
is a pale ghost and, though I exhale it again
and again, it will not stay with me. Tonight
I make you up, imagine you, your movements clearer
than the words I have you say you said before.

Wherever you are now, inside my head you fix me
with a look, standing here whilst cool late light
dissolves into the earth. I have got your mouth wrong,
but still it smiles. I hold you closer, miles away,
inventing love, until the calls of nightjars
interrupt and turn what was to come, was certain,
into memory. The stars are filming us for no one.

Image by Aeric M. Goujon, taken October 2007

Conflict

Thou and You
Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin

She substituted, by a chance,
For empty "you" -- the gentle "thou";
And all my happy dreams, at once,
In loving heart again resound.
In bliss and silence do I stay,
Unable to maintain my role:
"Oh, how sweet you are!" I say --
"How I love thee!" says my soul.





Shooting with Melvin tonight for the first time in almost 2 years. Filled with anticipation and trepidation. I'm always conflicted before a shoot. I long for the adrenaline of being in front of a camera, of thinking and not at the same time. Of letting go and floating in a space of creativity and possibilities. But I also am filled with nerves and insecurities. It's always a struggle of sorts, but in the end we know which side wins don't we?


Image by Melvin Moten Jr., taken July 2006

I think about you, some.

Non-Photo Blue
Pinback

She's posting all the time, but the boards are down.
It's a burned out building.

He's spending all this time on his back.
Staring at the ceiling.

They spared themselves that way
I'm with that. I'm with them.

You aren't. You're alive, dammit.
Gnawing on the prey.
I think about you, some.

Where to put you?
All the backed up data for a raining time.

Insulate a fragile mind.
Capsulize a broken find.

Don't do this, man.
There's another one off behind.
Breaking down the door without... warning.

She just ignores the time that the boards came down.
It's a numbed out feeling.
He just accepts that pain with a hate mantra.
A spiritual killing.

They just relax that way.
I'm with that. I'm with them.

You aren't. You're alive, dammit.
Crayon past line. Stay after school.
Crossword filled in non-photo blue.

So they'll never find you.
Can't go through this now.
I'm leaving a message.
Stapled on your head.

SHHAA......
I get the same result.
We get the same effect


On the subway this morning I saw someone who looked uncannily like one of my most significant exes. Significant in that he was my first husband (albeit a marriage that didn't see it's second anniverary). I haven't seen him in about 14 years. Scary how time flies when life happens to you.

It wasn't a bad marriage...I was just too young and wanting someone to save me from myself, so was he. Always a mistake. I didn't know then, what I know now - the only person who can save you from yourself is your own self. We clung to each other for a while and then started to disintegrate. Therapy, tears, fights, more tears, more therapy and the eventual and necessary decision to split apart. He moved out west to California and promptly became addicted to "Ice". I continued therapy and became who I am today. The last time I spoke to him was 1995, when he called me desperate for money.

And then this morning, 8 a.m. on the F train, someone walked on at Carroll that was his spitting image. I tried not to stare. I didn't think it was him. After all, what would he be doing back in Brooklyn? He was never from here in the first place. I snuck glances every few seconds...reeling through memories. Trying to remember his profile, was his nose like that? I thought it was smaller. Was his hair really that light? Would he really be wearing hipster jeans? I wondered if I should ask him his name...but to what end? The girl that married that boy was gone 15 years ago...and honestly, if he wanted to find me, I'm in the book. Searches for him in Google come up with nought.

But still I wonder. Part of me hopes that it was him. He looked good...healthy, recovered. And part of me wonders if that isn't just wishful thinking.



Image by Elizabeth Zusev, taken January 2008

Drugs (II)

Drugs
(This Mortal Coil cover of The Talking Heads )

And all I see is little dots
Some are smeared and some are spots
Feels like a murder but that's alright
Somebody said there's too much light
Pull down the shade and it's alright
It'll be over in a minute or two.
I'm charged up...Don't put me down
Don't feel like talking...Don't mess around
I feel mean...I feel O.K.
I'm charged up...Electricity
The boys are making a big mess
This makes the girls all start to laugh
I don't know what they're talking about
The boys are worried, the girls are shocked
They pick the sound and let it drop
Nobody know what they're talking about
I'm charged up...I'm kinda wooden
I'm barely moving...I study motion
I study myself...I fooled myself
I'm charged up...It's pretty intense.
I'm charged up...Don't put me down
Don't feel like talking...Don't mess around
I feel mean...I feel O.K.
I'm charged up...Electricity.


Today is the first day in a week where I will not be taking copious amounts of Vicodin in order to just make it through the day.

Worry not, I don't have an incipient drug addiction. Just the worst kind of dental pain issues for over a week. First a broken tooth with killer cavity which was then replaced by a root canal last Wednesday.

Now, I've had root canals before, and NEVER has the recuperation been this freakin' horrific. The pain was sheer agony. I was popping Vicodin and prescription Naproxen (Aleve) every 2 - 3 hours just to survive. O.K. maybe a little melodramatic...but still, you get the point. By Friday evening, I was fully convinced that something had gone horribly wrong with my root canal. Like a "root" had been left in there or something.

Luckily, by Saturday afternoon, the pain was beginning to subside from an omnipresent stabbing to a dull roaring ache. That, I could handle. With some Vicodin.

My poor liver and kidneys. I can't imagine how much toxic gunk they were shoveling through from Wednesday night to Saturday night. Enough to make me a Hollywood D-list celeb, I'm sure.

So, here I am on Monday afternoon. Vicodin free. I have a couple of pills left over, just in case.


Image by Aeric Meredith-Goujon, taken October 2007

She will never forgive you, but she won't let you go

Yeeeeeeeaaaaaaahhhhhhh!

Don’t look back into the sun
Now you know that the time has come
And they said it would never come for you oh oh oh oh

Oh my friend you haven’t changed
You're looking rough and living strange
And I know you got a taste for it too oh oh oh

They'll never forgive you but they wont let you go, oh no
She'll never forgive you but she won't let you go, oh no

Don't look back into the sun
You've cast your pearls but now you're on the run
And all the lies you said, who did you save?

But when they played that song at the Death Disco
It started fast but it ends so slow
And all the time it just reminded me of you

They'll never forgive you but they wont let you go (LET ME GO!)
She'll never forgive you but she wont let you go, oh no.

Don't Look Back Into the Sun
The Libertines


Unlike some people I know, I do forgive and I do let go. And in spirit of such, I wish a Happy New Year for all those I know...and even those I don't.

Haven't recently been in the habit of making resolutions, at least not those that are written down like a checklist, but I do have a rough tag cloud in my head of things I want to work on this year.

I spend too much time on the internet. "tag cloud" yikes em.

Anyway, I hope the year to come brings sparkles, sunshine and cozy comfort to everyone.

Image by Melvin Moten Jr. taken March 2006