Tuesday, September 25, 2012

I went running today. The blood thudding in your ears, the breath that comes out heavily through your nose, the strands of hair that come loose from your tightly put together ponytail- bring with them a certain kind of magic. I left with the semi permanent crease in between my eyebrows, thinking about my massive to-do list, and the insecurities galore that inevitably creep up on me most days. I ran for around forty five minutes and wandered into completely unknown territory. I came across a certain Sugarbush Park, a bunch of goose-shit, a decomposing squirrel(?), and some very red leaves. When all your concentration is focused on just breathing, and ignoring that stitch in your side, and just getting to the next bus stop, and the next, and the next... it leaves very little scope for thinking. I blanked out blissfully for the most part. The stray annoyances from my day wandered into my head, but the sound of my footsteps chased them away.
I came home panting, red-faced, with aching legs, and happy.

Saturday, September 22, 2012

The Food Alphabet with Writers

Longtime readers of this blog will know that I blog only about events of a personal nature. Occasional fiction. General wonderings. The contemporary events, and matters of deep cultural significance are what I skip writing about, simply because I don't think I can write about them with as much coherence as they deserve. These are saved for mulling over with friends accompanied by endless cups of chaa, or rants over the phone to the mater- but essentially they don't turn up here.
Things that do turn up here would be brethren of this. And of course, there is the lifeisadarkabyss emo-ness.

Tuesday, September 18, 2012

Children broadripple is burning
And the girls are getting sick
Off huffin' glue up in the bathroom
While their boyfriends pick up chicks

And darling, I'm lost, I heard you whispering
That night in Fountain Square
The trash-filled streets made me wish
We were headed home

And there was love inside the basement
Where that woman used to lie
In a sleeping bag we shared
Upon the floor most every night

And darling, I'm drunk
And everything that I have loved has turned to stone
So pack your bags and come back home

And I'm wasted, you can taste it
Don't look at me that way
'Cause I'll be hanging from a rope
I will haunt you like a ghost

And if my woman was a fire
She'd burn out before I wake
And be replaced by pints of whiskey
Cigarettes and outer space

Then somebody moves
And everything you thought you had to go to shit
But we've got a lot, don't ever forget that

And I wrote this on an airplane
Where the people looks like eggs
And when a woman that you loved is gone
She was bombing east Japan

And don't fucking move
'Cause everything you thought you had to go to shit
We've got a lot, don't you dare forget that

And I'm wasted, you can taste it
Don't look at me that way
'Cause I'll be hanging from a rope
I will haunt you like a ghost

- Broadripple is Burning - Margot and the Nuclear So and So's

Monday, September 17, 2012

"Ah but you got away, didn't you babe,
you just turned your back on the crowd,
you got away, I never once heard you say,
I need you, I don't need you,
I need you, I don't need you
and all of that jiving around."

Today is a Chelsea Hotel kinda day. Lie around with a few irrepressible toes sticking out of the blanket. Trace circles on the back of your hand. Begin to think about forgetting. Goodbyes don't always come with a warning, do they? Sometimes they sneak in quietly while you're halfway through a sentence you've forgotten to finish. They slip their hand into yours and whisper, soft as a sigh.

Friday, August 31, 2012

Of talking cats and contradictions

If anyone happens to be feeling particularly fond of me, this is what they should get me:

A General Theory of Love by psychiatrists Lewis, Amini and Lannon which explains why the Beatles might not have been too far off the mark when they said that "All you need is love". Psychology, neurobiology and the human condition have got to be three of my favourite things.

I just finished reading Kafka On The Shore by Murakami, and suddenly everything seems a little unreal, a little far off. There is a Satya Narayan puja at my house later today and oddly enough, I'm no longer annoyed about it. Murakami does strange things to me. Y'know, the book is beautiful, surreal, interesting, strange, full of cats- everything you'd expect from a Murakami, but the end sort of left me in the lurch. So there's this boy and he goes on a journey, meets all these people, their lives intersect in ways they're unaware of, making ripples in other's lives and yadda yadda yadda but so What? Nothing is explained, nothing is really resolved, and I guess that bugs me. Sort've in a what's the point kind've way. But I guess that's life. Fluid and elusive and more often than not, episodes have no real conclusion or closure. Frames gently shift and things merge into one another till before you know it, some things have been completely purged from your life and  you can't even begin to remember a birthday. When I was young(er) and stupid(er), this thought would often drive me to gloom- the fact that life goes on, and feelings change and nothing can really ever be pinned down and known with absolute certainty. These days it bugs me less. You begin to see the beauty in change, and the shifting patterns. There's a wonder in not knowing, and finding out. There's also such beauty in familiarity, and solid ground, and in starting to take certain things for granted.

How can something so transient seem so permanent? The thing is, potential. I flew south for the summer, and like Mr. Nakata said, (and Colonel Sanders, yes) what's been opened must be closed. Things have to be put right. But I bruise easy, it seems.

I haven't been able to write lately because my thoughts are too full of one thing for me to say anything of much consequence. So I've been reading a lot instead. Reading, and stumbling into the lives of whorebabies, and er, working out. I'm trying to be gentler these days. The more I circle the sun, the more I begin to value kindness in others. The more I keep realizing in this sort of panic, that I don't have much time. I mean, literally speaking this summer has been very Endless Numbered Days, but even beyond that, just life y'know? My room-mate died earlier this year and while it plunged me into depression for a bit, and reminded me of exactly how fleeting and utterly senseless life can be, it wasn't really life-changing in terms of my whole attitude towards life. I didn't sell my metaphorical ferrari or - actually, I semi take that back. It set off a train of events that have been interesting and unpredictable.

This post is full of contradictions and faulty grammar, but life is full of paradoxes so you'll just have to deal with it. I have however, scattered interesting links throughout so hopefully that makes up for it.

I will leave you with this list of books on music and the brain from a site that I love very much. If you're feeling unaccountably fond of me....you know what to do.
Also, this passage from Kafka on the Shore:

“According to Aristophanes in Plato's The Banquet, in the ancient world of legend there were three types of people", Oshima says. "Have you heard about this?" 

"No"

"In ancient times people weren't simply male or female, but one of three types : male/male, male/female or female/female. In other words, each person was made out of the components of two people. Everyone was happy with this arrangment and never really gave it much thought. But then God took a knife and cut everyone in half, right down the middle. So after that the world was divided just into male and female, the upshot being that people spend their time running around trying to locate their missing half.”

I liked Oshima. He was a very interesting character. While talking about why he likes to listen to Schubert while driving: But listening to the D major, I can feel the limits of what humans are capable of- that a  certain type of perfection can only be realized through limitless accumulation of the imperfect. And personally, I find that encouraging.

Wednesday, August 15, 2012

you are a bad idea come to life. i have wrapped you up in rainy days and soft blankets, and dressed you up in summer. you smell of smoke and taste of happiness; you are not mine to keep. you are the fun mistake i wished for at the start of this year. comfort, and laughter, and unexpected warmth. you are an impulse i don't regret. it has been a long time, and the first time. i'm spinning, i think. 

Monday, August 6, 2012

There is definitely way too much oxytocin in my brain right now. I didn't ask for this. It just happened. The part of my brain that isn't drowning in it keeps flipping between Ohshit and Ohwell. Hello crazyperson. JUST Keep calm and murder everyone.
Look, here's a song.

And a picture of zombies.

Happy birthday, you loon.