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Messages from the Past
Jul. 27th, 2014 06:38 amA couple nights ago I typed this bit of text to myself through my phone:
Did you know that light falls down wells when you're not looking? That the Sun travels across continents while you walk in darkness? Stars collide and the violently harmonious dance of the galaxy continues as you sit and read word after word after word...
Inspired by my reading of Haruki Murakami's The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle, which I have now finished.
It wasn't that long ago that the very idea of leaving myself a message on anything other than paper would seem absurd.
---
It has been storming for hours and everything feels wrong. Usually I like a good thunderstorm, but today I feel as if it mocks my inability to break free of this fleshy prison and scatter across the sky, dancing with the lightning bolts. I want to take action, but a part of me freezes and warns of a terrible consequence. It makes me feel queasy, like I'm being violently jerked around by minuscule, compulsive movements.
It has been difficult to pin down the course of my dreams, but some have come through. On the morning of my birthday I dreamt that David Bowie was my father and he visited me to perform an impromptu concert in a small amphitheater. Days after that, I dreamt of war and the murder and imprisonment of thousands of children. I was all of the children and none of them at the same time. Some killed themselves before the war reached their dwelling. Others hid and held their breath, but always they were found. And still others made a final stand, knowing that it was hopeless, but wishing to die defending themselves. The rest were chained up and worked in caves. I scurried through the natural pores of the rocks and outcroppings, tending to the sick when I could. One girl I found was choking - she'd swallowed a ball of string. I didn't know if she'd meant to or if she was just that hungry. I managed to get her breathing again, but her blank eyes did not seem to register that she was still alive.
---
Yesterday I visited the Frazier History Museum in Louisville. My guide was a new friend I made through the Internet. He knew the answer to just about every question I asked and then some. Most of the displays were centered around weapons throughout the ages, my favorite being the swords and various pieces of armour from around the world. There was even a live sword fighting demonstration that was pretty impressive.
We also visited a book store, coffee shop, two restaurants, and a mall. It was quite the adventure.
It's nice to be near a big city again. There are so many things to see and do, and it is much easier to find people with similar interests. Of course, it comes with expenses. So it goes.
Eight hours now, and it's still raining. Fortunately my mood has shifted.
---
Dear Internet Gods,
Please send me a kotatsu before the arrival of winter.
Yours Truly,
Me.
Did you know that light falls down wells when you're not looking? That the Sun travels across continents while you walk in darkness? Stars collide and the violently harmonious dance of the galaxy continues as you sit and read word after word after word...
Inspired by my reading of Haruki Murakami's The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle, which I have now finished.
It wasn't that long ago that the very idea of leaving myself a message on anything other than paper would seem absurd.
---
It has been storming for hours and everything feels wrong. Usually I like a good thunderstorm, but today I feel as if it mocks my inability to break free of this fleshy prison and scatter across the sky, dancing with the lightning bolts. I want to take action, but a part of me freezes and warns of a terrible consequence. It makes me feel queasy, like I'm being violently jerked around by minuscule, compulsive movements.
It has been difficult to pin down the course of my dreams, but some have come through. On the morning of my birthday I dreamt that David Bowie was my father and he visited me to perform an impromptu concert in a small amphitheater. Days after that, I dreamt of war and the murder and imprisonment of thousands of children. I was all of the children and none of them at the same time. Some killed themselves before the war reached their dwelling. Others hid and held their breath, but always they were found. And still others made a final stand, knowing that it was hopeless, but wishing to die defending themselves. The rest were chained up and worked in caves. I scurried through the natural pores of the rocks and outcroppings, tending to the sick when I could. One girl I found was choking - she'd swallowed a ball of string. I didn't know if she'd meant to or if she was just that hungry. I managed to get her breathing again, but her blank eyes did not seem to register that she was still alive.
---
Yesterday I visited the Frazier History Museum in Louisville. My guide was a new friend I made through the Internet. He knew the answer to just about every question I asked and then some. Most of the displays were centered around weapons throughout the ages, my favorite being the swords and various pieces of armour from around the world. There was even a live sword fighting demonstration that was pretty impressive.
We also visited a book store, coffee shop, two restaurants, and a mall. It was quite the adventure.
It's nice to be near a big city again. There are so many things to see and do, and it is much easier to find people with similar interests. Of course, it comes with expenses. So it goes.
Eight hours now, and it's still raining. Fortunately my mood has shifted.
---
Dear Internet Gods,
Please send me a kotatsu before the arrival of winter.
Yours Truly,
Me.
