Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Four times is once too much for love That's how many times the clock struck, I wandered home, saying your name

Often I think about what would some of my musical heroes (Billy Bragg, Neil Hannon of the Divine Comedy, Sondre Lerche, Ben Folds, the gang from Belle and Sebastian, and of course Neil Finn of Crowded House) do out here staring at this ambiguity everyday.

I'm certain their imagination would keep them company, and this point would be a stark point of contrast for life moving forward.

Often I'm thrust back to vivid imagery in the past. I recall 10 pm sunlight at Park Bar Edinburgh Scotland, walking home at 4 am speaking to a roughneck working in the rugged land up north.  I recall a gal telling my friends they danced like wildebeests, and the perfect 4 leaf clover made on the top of my Guinness by the barkeep.

Flash forwarding I'd love to experience rain falling on a lonely tenement, as in Belle and Sebastian's Get me Away from Here I'm dying.  I will add that to my color pallet in Eastern Euro one day while focusing my studies on building micro economies in a globalized world.  It's hard looking forward, getting caught up in daydreams; while the mind is grown, my immediate environment is a perpetual skipping record.

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