Untitled.
15 May 1999
![[ ]](http://mbpix.mushroom.net/19990515y.png)
i left q's about two last night. nope, i'm not doing well on this getting to bed early thing at all. and so, no surprise, i slept in late again. although i had some strange dreams this morning. in one of them, george and sam and i, along with a few other people, were at the beastie boys museum. which was basically just a converted high school gym in which the beastie boys hung out. there were some posters and such on the walls, a few video monitors, and a woman working as curator. there were guided tours of a recording studio or something, for which you needed to take a number. i had lost my number and so they refused to give me the tour, even though there wasn't anyone else waiting.
i got up about 1130. went out for brunch. went to get some new tires put on the van. when i had the front tires replaced last summer they said that the other tires had maybe 5k miles left in them. i've driven about 10k since that point. so i figured i could use to get them replaced before the drive home.
for the last week or so i've been feeling like this web journal has been inadequate for working through my thoughts and emotions. of course i've been censoring my feelings since my first entry nearly a year ago. although i do feel that it's different this time. i kinda feel as if language itself is inadequate, a sad state of affairs for a poet, eh?
it all comes back to love. true love, faerie princess, forever (or at least for a damn long time) kinda love. sometimes i'm not even sure if that's what i want anymore, even regardless of it's existence or lack thereof. any kind of love that actually exists in this world is already not magical enough, not pure enough, not innocent enough.
i've been listening to ida's second album a lot recently. the music infiltrates my visions. in my head i see a star-lit stone patio, the scent of flowers in the late spring air. slow dancing with... her, whoever she may be. are the fleeting moments of life that come closest to the dream enough? i guess in a way they have to be. what do you do when you've idealized something so basic as love to the point where reality just can't measure up?
or again, is it just that i've misplaced a spark of something that i once had within myself?
i got up about 1130. went out for brunch. went to get some new tires put on the van. when i had the front tires replaced last summer they said that the other tires had maybe 5k miles left in them. i've driven about 10k since that point. so i figured i could use to get them replaced before the drive home.
for the last week or so i've been feeling like this web journal has been inadequate for working through my thoughts and emotions. of course i've been censoring my feelings since my first entry nearly a year ago. although i do feel that it's different this time. i kinda feel as if language itself is inadequate, a sad state of affairs for a poet, eh?
it all comes back to love. true love, faerie princess, forever (or at least for a damn long time) kinda love. sometimes i'm not even sure if that's what i want anymore, even regardless of it's existence or lack thereof. any kind of love that actually exists in this world is already not magical enough, not pure enough, not innocent enough.
i've been listening to ida's second album a lot recently. the music infiltrates my visions. in my head i see a star-lit stone patio, the scent of flowers in the late spring air. slow dancing with... her, whoever she may be. are the fleeting moments of life that come closest to the dream enough? i guess in a way they have to be. what do you do when you've idealized something so basic as love to the point where reality just can't measure up?
or again, is it just that i've misplaced a spark of something that i once had within myself?