So I don't know what exactly I'm writing here... But all I know is that there's a light inside of me that wants to be recognized. I'm not always so... serious as I have been in the last two posts.... : D I mean, I really appreciate those posts, they were necessary steps that I had to experience in order to become more true to who I am.
But yeah, here is the commentary to the first few songs on my playlist and little snippets of the songs.
And I only offer it as commentary 'cause idk how the little paragraphs stand on their own sooo.... : P
"Are we human or are we denser?" "Human" the Killers
So.. light is everywhere. Strobe lights. They cut through the dark in great swooping arcs. Dozens of people. All in black cotton All jumping in the light. All feeling their hearts coalesce into the music.
"You became the light on the dark side of me" "Kiss from the Rose" Seal
A sea. Grey with storm. Wind lashing the surf. A great cliff face. Pale rocks crumbling into the sea. Lightening. Thunder shaking the ground. Don't you just love that harmony?? Oh the wind and the rain and the waves. Movement all around. Passion swimming in the air creates electricity. Harmony. Love, sadness, passion. Grief stronger than any known before. A silence. The eye of the storm. One last bolt of lightening not a hundred feet away. Build. Grow, expand. The eye has past. Power, strength. Passion. All is passion and action and beauty and love and hope. Love and hope. Light and glory. Passion. (Not disgusting passion.) A single drop. The last. One last gust of air.
"And I long to smell the sea." "A beginning" the Classic Crime
The seeeaaayeah. Wind. A soft beach. Pale sand. A soft sun rise. A couple under blankets. "comin' home to you" A gust travels over tree tops. Tree tops that stretch up to a hundred feet for the world to see. A little wooden box with a tag. A soft touch. Silent tears. "I let her go." A past. A future. The unknown. The bittersweet and the triumphant. Glory and comfort. Being settled... Coming home. So long it has been. Come home, and let me go. It'll be alright. It is already that way.. A bed side table. It will be locked........ home.
"You know it aint easy." "Sideways" citizen cope
A daffodil. Withering into the sunlight. A field of wheat. A soft breeze. A girl. A simple cotton dress stands in the middle of the field. Soft, long brown hair. Hair like soft earth. Caught in the wind. diamonds growing black. A girl waits. She won't go away. These feelings won't go away from her. She has tried to leave them. Has waited for them to leave. She slowly sinks to the ground. Lays on her side. Diamonds fade. Flowers bloom. She whispers.
"Diamonds they fade, flowers, they bloom, I'm telling you, These feelings won't go away, they've been knockin' me sideways, they've been knocking me out they, whenever you come around me." Again. "These feelings won't go away." Soft whispers into the plants. A shadow across her body. A soft hand on her arm. A body to embrace. "these feelings won't go away."
"'Cause I am livin' just to breathe" "believe" the bravery
Another dance floor. A live band. Slow motion. bodies pulse with it. Time speeds up. Real time. "I am living just to breathe" The want, the ache, for more. this night, at this moment. They all believe in one thing. this night. and this night alone. the feeling of this moment is all there is. The music flows all around. The bodies moving together and singular all at once. Being a part of the whole and apart of it at once. We all need something to believe. Why not this moment? This breath? It is all you will ever have. The beast was always here. You are not nothing. What are you waiting for? Give yourself something to believe. Don't live just to breathe. We all need something to keep on breathing for. Why not this moment? This breath? This life? We all need something more. Believe.
"I refuse to throw them away" "flowers" regina spektor
They're rotting. a girl sitting in a chair before a desk with a vase of flowers. time speeds up in front of her. Light passes on her. The flowers die. She cannot sleep. She cannot sleep. Am I allowed to keep them? newspapers pile around the girl. Cauldrons. stones. Am I allowed to keep? She does not sleep. never. Am I allowed to keep what I love? She will never go to sleep. Time passes fast before her ever-open eyes. She stares at the camera singing. A piano. She plays. She sings. Light moves around her going faster and faster with the speeding tempo. Slows once more. the newspapers pile and grow and lessen and decay.
Well I would do the last seven songs on my playlist, but that took a lot of energy out of me for some reason sooo..... : D You're welcome to listen to the rest of the songs, I like them just as much as the others. Could you follow it well enough?
Friday, February 6, 2009
Monday, February 2, 2009
night terrors
Sorry if my words contradict one another. These are complicated feelings and it's hard to express them all and their meanings while conveying how deeply they affect me and I don't really want to read through it to make it make sense.......
Have I told you about my dreams yet? I don't think so, and although my dreams are sort of a complicated topic having many sides and different stories I'm just going to tell you about the night terrors this time.
I have what most people call "shell shock". It's called post traumatic stress disorder and although I don't have it has bad as others it still affects me greatly in some ways.
I think I've had night terrors at least twice a year, more often when I was younger and my family was just coming out of the divorce and the depths of our wounds were just beginning to surface. Lately, since I found out about tour and realized subconsciously that I was going back to the place where it all began, maybe not to the exact place, but I would be in the same state only, a few hours away from the place of my birth I had begun to have them once more. My sister sleeps with me in the same room and she usually sleeps lightly enough to catch me before I do something dangerous.
You see, night terrors are the most.... intense form of night mares. Worse than any fear you have ever felt in your life. A fear so consuming, a fear so.... painful, you wish you were never born. You know in that fear, in that dream, that you can and most probably will die. That you will die in the most painful way known to the universe. That you will die and survive it. That even though you will have the knowledge of death at the end of the pain, you will never gain the sweet release it provides. That you will wake up, only to live another day, to go to sleep another night, to experience another dream in which you know that you will die..... and live afterwords. This is what causes you to keep going in the dream. This is what causes you to run. To run and to fight and to keep going until you wake up. But it's not that easy. Because the knowledge of waking up is beneath the surface. The fear is all that is on your mind. The fear of pain, the fear of death, the fear of life after it all. And although you know you cannot run and you cannot fight in your waking hours, you do not realize it in your dream. All you want to do is to get away from whatever you know will bring you pain. And you know somewhere inside of you that no matter how well you fight, no matter how far you run, you will always be caught. Whatever is hunting you will always catch you. always. And in that last moment when you finally give up, when you finally relax and give in to the pain and the sorrow and the utter brokenness of the darkness, you wake up. Not having felt any of the pain or sorrow or brokenness.
This is a night terror. It causes you to scream in the darkness. It causes you to wake up, heart pounding, images running through your head as your eyes see only the the darkness of night. It causes your mind to rebel against reality. In those first few moments of wakefulness you do not believe in reality any longer. You believe in the world of your mind. For the fear had so consumed you in your sleep that you cannot believe it wasn't real now that you are awake. Sometimes it takes only a few minutes to wake up completely. Sometimes you cannot banish the images. You dare not move less the demons of your mind show themselves. You fear that if you reach out to touch the loved one beside you that they will turn into something hideous and wretched before your eyes, an incarnation of the feared pain in your dream.
My sister usually saved me before I woke up. She would see me freaking out and trying to get up out of my bed. She would grab my shoulder, say my name firmly, and tell me to go back to sleep. Usually I wouldn't even remember the dream or the encounter with my sister.....
Last night she was not in the bed beside me to shock me out of my sleep walking.
She had stayed up late, reading and listening to music and other things.
We live on the second floor apartment.
I had gotten up.
I had run.
I had aimed for the window.
She yelled at me to stop.
Some form of my conscious had woken up and I heard her yell my name, telling me to stop.
I had jumped to the couch which sits in front of the window.
She pinned me down before I launched myself through the glass.
I am ever indebted to her for this and many other acts like it.
I hate my past. It is dark. It is twisted. It has haunted me for ten years.
Ten years of pain. Of grief. Of terror. Of suffering. Ten years. A decade.
It is not what I deserve. It is not my fault. It does not matter anymore.
it is done. It is gone. I have been healed. I know the atonement. I know its purpose. It is all healing. It is glorious. Last night was the night of my last night terror. I know that at some point in the future it will come back. That the thought will pass through my mind of the evilness of my father. But it will do just that. It will just pass. It will not affect me in such a way any longer.
It is done.
Have I told you about my dreams yet? I don't think so, and although my dreams are sort of a complicated topic having many sides and different stories I'm just going to tell you about the night terrors this time.
I have what most people call "shell shock". It's called post traumatic stress disorder and although I don't have it has bad as others it still affects me greatly in some ways.
I think I've had night terrors at least twice a year, more often when I was younger and my family was just coming out of the divorce and the depths of our wounds were just beginning to surface. Lately, since I found out about tour and realized subconsciously that I was going back to the place where it all began, maybe not to the exact place, but I would be in the same state only, a few hours away from the place of my birth I had begun to have them once more. My sister sleeps with me in the same room and she usually sleeps lightly enough to catch me before I do something dangerous.
You see, night terrors are the most.... intense form of night mares. Worse than any fear you have ever felt in your life. A fear so consuming, a fear so.... painful, you wish you were never born. You know in that fear, in that dream, that you can and most probably will die. That you will die in the most painful way known to the universe. That you will die and survive it. That even though you will have the knowledge of death at the end of the pain, you will never gain the sweet release it provides. That you will wake up, only to live another day, to go to sleep another night, to experience another dream in which you know that you will die..... and live afterwords. This is what causes you to keep going in the dream. This is what causes you to run. To run and to fight and to keep going until you wake up. But it's not that easy. Because the knowledge of waking up is beneath the surface. The fear is all that is on your mind. The fear of pain, the fear of death, the fear of life after it all. And although you know you cannot run and you cannot fight in your waking hours, you do not realize it in your dream. All you want to do is to get away from whatever you know will bring you pain. And you know somewhere inside of you that no matter how well you fight, no matter how far you run, you will always be caught. Whatever is hunting you will always catch you. always. And in that last moment when you finally give up, when you finally relax and give in to the pain and the sorrow and the utter brokenness of the darkness, you wake up. Not having felt any of the pain or sorrow or brokenness.
This is a night terror. It causes you to scream in the darkness. It causes you to wake up, heart pounding, images running through your head as your eyes see only the the darkness of night. It causes your mind to rebel against reality. In those first few moments of wakefulness you do not believe in reality any longer. You believe in the world of your mind. For the fear had so consumed you in your sleep that you cannot believe it wasn't real now that you are awake. Sometimes it takes only a few minutes to wake up completely. Sometimes you cannot banish the images. You dare not move less the demons of your mind show themselves. You fear that if you reach out to touch the loved one beside you that they will turn into something hideous and wretched before your eyes, an incarnation of the feared pain in your dream.
My sister usually saved me before I woke up. She would see me freaking out and trying to get up out of my bed. She would grab my shoulder, say my name firmly, and tell me to go back to sleep. Usually I wouldn't even remember the dream or the encounter with my sister.....
Last night she was not in the bed beside me to shock me out of my sleep walking.
She had stayed up late, reading and listening to music and other things.
We live on the second floor apartment.
I had gotten up.
I had run.
I had aimed for the window.
She yelled at me to stop.
Some form of my conscious had woken up and I heard her yell my name, telling me to stop.
I had jumped to the couch which sits in front of the window.
She pinned me down before I launched myself through the glass.
I am ever indebted to her for this and many other acts like it.
I hate my past. It is dark. It is twisted. It has haunted me for ten years.
Ten years of pain. Of grief. Of terror. Of suffering. Ten years. A decade.
It is not what I deserve. It is not my fault. It does not matter anymore.
it is done. It is gone. I have been healed. I know the atonement. I know its purpose. It is all healing. It is glorious. Last night was the night of my last night terror. I know that at some point in the future it will come back. That the thought will pass through my mind of the evilness of my father. But it will do just that. It will just pass. It will not affect me in such a way any longer.
It is done.
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