sometimes at 4:20 I am
4:20am... one of my favorite times of the 24 hour clock... from the melancholy hope of the Carpenter's wide awake at 4am (one of my top ten all time autobiographical songs... oh, I think I miss that tape most of all... dang wicked witch of the great white north, all prettied up as if she was an innocent needing saving from the evil wizard of the great northeast, she could have copied and returned the tapes, but she chose not to, which is why she was the most wickedest witch of them all, but that's another story, a horse of a different color, even, for behind the candoor)...
where was I?...
ah yes, from the melancholy hope in that song I just referenced above to the other meaning for 420 that used to be my external meditative aid of choice until I decided it was too expensive and that I didn't really need any external meditative aides, though the occasional additive to the meditative process would be a welcome memory and change from the mundane constant peace that surrounds me and my roller coaster heart and has for so long now, but that too is another tale told by a madmad and lived by a fool for other places)...
hey, what can I say, I did three Kryspy Kremes and more than a liter of Code Red today... and after hours and hours of college football upsets and the Yankees getting booted from the playoffs (what?... I was rooting for the Mets all along, didn't you know?... ah, the old paint the target around where the arrow lands trick)... having lived in New York and California, having loved a girl from Minnesota and having been to Detroit and St. Louis at least once, I can legitimately root for any of the eight teams in the playoffs... especially the five where I actually lived... so I'm a happy camper whomever wins... especially with three Krispy Kremes in me...
Rasputin, on the other hand, is a pure die in the wool born and bred Ohio State fan... Ohio State shirts and stuff are sent to him every year by his family members who are still in Ohio or those who travel to the bowl games... so we are all about the Buckeytes in this house and they've got their best team in several years rolling along towards a National Title this year barring dumb mistakes or extreme surprises... need I explain life around here on Saturdays for the next ten weeks or so?...
it's late now and the games are done... I've got Meg and Dia serenading me in the headphones because Raspy fell asleep in front of the TV with the remote between his legs again and infomercials do not appeal to me and besides, I miss music when I am not listening for a whole day and you know how I adore my aural romance with Dia's voice and the band's music... I even wrote her a few birthday rhymes just to let my dreamer play with the possibilities, remember?... most of the time my rhyming fantasies are maybe 10-20% inspired by real other people and 20-50% inspired by memories and the rest is pure imagination... but every now and then I let someone into the ethereal games I play in my brain and a specific person can inspire upwards of 80% of a rhyme and Dia's got that potential... if only we lived in the same different world (amusing turn of a phrase if you follow my thought)...
and then there's this 420...
the time, the memories, the creativity, it all comes together (to a head, in fact) when I am awake and alone in these moments and I get more real about everything selfish and me-related than I usual am (in other words, altruism sits on a back burner and the deepest most selfish dreams rise to the surface)... and the surge of desire, the hunger, the craving, the dream of sharing the passion of falling and being in love becomes ever so real... almost real enough to step on the board and dive off again... but alas, thanks to my isolationist policies in the social arena, the pool may be as empty as it appears and that could be a big hurt...
but oh, the love could be so wonderful at 420...
so it would seem that I am inching my way to actually being ready to take some sharing of intimacies seriously in this real world (in real time, no less) again... and there's a rumble from somewhere ever so deep inside that articulates into, but who to trust?... whom, even?... and there's a bittersweet chuckle from the part of me that accepts imperfections and lets all bets ride...
one sure sign is the increase of mixed metaphors...
and the musical bubbles rise up from the depths of my dreams and remind me of the magnifiscent explosions of passion and devotion and adoration and love that I've known and shared and tell me of possible explosions yet to be... and the fantasies are not enough for these musical bubbles... ah, dear bottom line child, how I neglect you... and miss you...
and another sign is my increasing posts in more public places (like myspace where the potential audiences are much bigger than I have in my semi-private, mostly obscure blogs, journals, and diaries... and then there are these nineteen stars...
don't tell me you're done for
I don't need to hear you're done for
you can tell me what you were running from
I need you more than you need you
I can see you really really running
may I ask you where you gonna run to
and you think you're living as a ghost now
not quite heaven's ugly angel
we all feel like we're breaking some time
I won't let you go tonight
stay awake, stay awake survive
I've got nineteen stars that I gave your name tonight
I wanna scream, wanna scream your name
starlight, my life can save, you're my wish tonight
don't tell me nothing matters
I'll tell you what matters
bare feet in the summer
open windows at night
you think that no one needs you
you have nothing to see through
well I need you I need you
don't I count in this life
it's morning now, time to suffer again
a safety that drunk can't find
stay awake, stay awake survive
I've got nineteen stars that I gave your name tonight
I wanna scream, wanna scream your name
starlight, my life can save, you're my wish tonight
no one can catch me the way that you catch me
the way that you keep me when I'm out of time
what if I need you when I can't see you
when I'm running out of life?
no one can catch me the way that you catch me
the way that you keep me when I'm out of time
what if I need you when I can't see you
when I'm running out of life?
life... life... life... yeah...
stay awake, stay awake survive
I've got nineteen stars that I...
stay awake, stay awake survive
stay awake, stay awake survive
wanna scream, wanna scream your name
starlight, my life can save, you're my wish
starlight, you're my wish, my world
you're my wish tonight
I think I have a new 420 song... no, I don't think... I have another 420 song... from, to, wish, dream, and if we like, call it a prayer... and I wonder if the writer and the singer feel anything close to what I feel when I hear it and when I sing it... and I wonder how they knew I've been singing it all my life...
yeah...
the recurring theme of my life is reborn anew and if the ones who gave it rebirth never actually know or share the real time with me, they open the door for someone else... and that is how it works, the recycle, the healing, the magic... the method to my madness is not just the writing, but the music... and finding the song(s) that compel me awake, that capture my essence, that propel me back out of the cocoon and demand I actualize...
a song that can play on repeat dozens of times and each time it's more intense, more true, and closer to my heart and mind and soul and spirit and anima and ka and whatever we might call the purest essence of the being that I know as me...
lather, rince, repeat...
and enjoy J
where was I?...
ah yes, from the melancholy hope in that song I just referenced above to the other meaning for 420 that used to be my external meditative aid of choice until I decided it was too expensive and that I didn't really need any external meditative aides, though the occasional additive to the meditative process would be a welcome memory and change from the mundane constant peace that surrounds me and my roller coaster heart and has for so long now, but that too is another tale told by a madmad and lived by a fool for other places)...
hey, what can I say, I did three Kryspy Kremes and more than a liter of Code Red today... and after hours and hours of college football upsets and the Yankees getting booted from the playoffs (what?... I was rooting for the Mets all along, didn't you know?... ah, the old paint the target around where the arrow lands trick)... having lived in New York and California, having loved a girl from Minnesota and having been to Detroit and St. Louis at least once, I can legitimately root for any of the eight teams in the playoffs... especially the five where I actually lived... so I'm a happy camper whomever wins... especially with three Krispy Kremes in me...
Rasputin, on the other hand, is a pure die in the wool born and bred Ohio State fan... Ohio State shirts and stuff are sent to him every year by his family members who are still in Ohio or those who travel to the bowl games... so we are all about the Buckeytes in this house and they've got their best team in several years rolling along towards a National Title this year barring dumb mistakes or extreme surprises... need I explain life around here on Saturdays for the next ten weeks or so?...
it's late now and the games are done... I've got Meg and Dia serenading me in the headphones because Raspy fell asleep in front of the TV with the remote between his legs again and infomercials do not appeal to me and besides, I miss music when I am not listening for a whole day and you know how I adore my aural romance with Dia's voice and the band's music... I even wrote her a few birthday rhymes just to let my dreamer play with the possibilities, remember?... most of the time my rhyming fantasies are maybe 10-20% inspired by real other people and 20-50% inspired by memories and the rest is pure imagination... but every now and then I let someone into the ethereal games I play in my brain and a specific person can inspire upwards of 80% of a rhyme and Dia's got that potential... if only we lived in the same different world (amusing turn of a phrase if you follow my thought)...
and then there's this 420...
the time, the memories, the creativity, it all comes together (to a head, in fact) when I am awake and alone in these moments and I get more real about everything selfish and me-related than I usual am (in other words, altruism sits on a back burner and the deepest most selfish dreams rise to the surface)... and the surge of desire, the hunger, the craving, the dream of sharing the passion of falling and being in love becomes ever so real... almost real enough to step on the board and dive off again... but alas, thanks to my isolationist policies in the social arena, the pool may be as empty as it appears and that could be a big hurt...
but oh, the love could be so wonderful at 420...
so it would seem that I am inching my way to actually being ready to take some sharing of intimacies seriously in this real world (in real time, no less) again... and there's a rumble from somewhere ever so deep inside that articulates into, but who to trust?... whom, even?... and there's a bittersweet chuckle from the part of me that accepts imperfections and lets all bets ride...
one sure sign is the increase of mixed metaphors...
and the musical bubbles rise up from the depths of my dreams and remind me of the magnifiscent explosions of passion and devotion and adoration and love that I've known and shared and tell me of possible explosions yet to be... and the fantasies are not enough for these musical bubbles... ah, dear bottom line child, how I neglect you... and miss you...
and another sign is my increasing posts in more public places (like myspace where the potential audiences are much bigger than I have in my semi-private, mostly obscure blogs, journals, and diaries... and then there are these nineteen stars...
I don't need to hear you're done for
you can tell me what you were running from
I need you more than you need you
I can see you really really running
may I ask you where you gonna run to
and you think you're living as a ghost now
not quite heaven's ugly angel
we all feel like we're breaking some time
I won't let you go tonight
stay awake, stay awake survive
I've got nineteen stars that I gave your name tonight
I wanna scream, wanna scream your name
starlight, my life can save, you're my wish tonight
don't tell me nothing matters
I'll tell you what matters
bare feet in the summer
open windows at night
you think that no one needs you
you have nothing to see through
well I need you I need you
don't I count in this life
it's morning now, time to suffer again
a safety that drunk can't find
stay awake, stay awake survive
I've got nineteen stars that I gave your name tonight
I wanna scream, wanna scream your name
starlight, my life can save, you're my wish tonight
no one can catch me the way that you catch me
the way that you keep me when I'm out of time
what if I need you when I can't see you
when I'm running out of life?
no one can catch me the way that you catch me
the way that you keep me when I'm out of time
what if I need you when I can't see you
when I'm running out of life?
life... life... life... yeah...
stay awake, stay awake survive
I've got nineteen stars that I...
stay awake, stay awake survive
stay awake, stay awake survive
wanna scream, wanna scream your name
starlight, my life can save, you're my wish
starlight, you're my wish, my world
you're my wish tonight
I think I have a new 420 song... no, I don't think... I have another 420 song... from, to, wish, dream, and if we like, call it a prayer... and I wonder if the writer and the singer feel anything close to what I feel when I hear it and when I sing it... and I wonder how they knew I've been singing it all my life...
yeah...
the recurring theme of my life is reborn anew and if the ones who gave it rebirth never actually know or share the real time with me, they open the door for someone else... and that is how it works, the recycle, the healing, the magic... the method to my madness is not just the writing, but the music... and finding the song(s) that compel me awake, that capture my essence, that propel me back out of the cocoon and demand I actualize...
a song that can play on repeat dozens of times and each time it's more intense, more true, and closer to my heart and mind and soul and spirit and anima and ka and whatever we might call the purest essence of the being that I know as me...
lather, rince, repeat...
and enjoy J
posted by candoor at 4:20 AM
2 Comments:
I do so love to read you gush about love.
Great big Yay!
I clicked on over to Candora, and spent quite some time reading and reading and reading (and yes, shedding a few tears). It really is no wonder there are so many who feel the way they do about what you write, what you share, how open you are to exposing your heart.
I clicked around through a few of your links and found some more personal wrirings about where you have been, who you are, what has made your heart beat the way it does today. For a heart to have the history yours does and to have survived it and to still have the desire and belief in love that you do....and to still have the rooms reserved for all you have loved...I send my deepest and sincerest gratitude for keeping Love alive, when sowing the seeds of sadness and nourishing them into a flourishing garden of bitterness would have been another choice to make. Your heart, your words, your spirit is an inspiration, shown in everything you do from your chosen work to the way you love to the words you write to the music you select. It is something of beauty and Truth and Sincerity.
And what can I say about the final entry I read after exhaustion hit me out of the blue ... your writing about Dr. Seuss. I was recently involved in a book meme. The first question it asked of me was to name a book that changed my life. My easy response? "One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish" (which I'm sure furrowed a few confused brows). The first book I was ever able to read all by myself. It changed me forever. Dr. Seuss. What a magician and a Spirit!
So after a fairly surreal weekend with an unbelievable series of events by phone, by door, and by e-mail that I still can't believe, I ended my weekend stopping round one more time here and then clicked through to be inspired by your continued belief in love, and if you only knew how after all the news of the day I received, and the hours and hours spent on phones with so much pain needing comfort, if you only knew how much it meant to know there are those still holding on to Love as their Life, their Light, their Inspiration.
Please never stop, no matter what.
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