hey can i tell you secrets?

i repeat the same words before i sleep. constellation, owl, gossamer. constellation, owl, gossamer. they kind of remind me of you.

do you notice that i look at the sky seven minutes longer than everybody else? last night the sky was so starry, and words oozed out of my skin and evaporated in the quiet space and turned into some foreign melody i don't understand: i could not help feeling uncomplicated. i'm really sorry for that.

i poisoned my tea with your summer philosophy. and i have to confess, i've never tasted anything so magical.

and i dream when i'm not sleeping. i dream of a dream when i'm sleeping. i hope you understand.

strange,

image copyright by priska febrinia

you are stranger and i am stranger and we are strangers
we look different but, quite the same, in a certain lights.
could you hear the forest inside my head, stranger?
strange;
i live in a thoughts anchorage
ready to sail, sail, sail.
lets see, if you are strange enough
i let you dive in my room walls with fairy lights and mist and clouds
and i wont feel so strange anymore.

death cab for cutie

I think this is the right time to blog death cab for cutie, since i have made part of their lyrics as the name of my blog.

Death cab for cutie is one of the greatest, if not the best, lyrical bands out there, one of few which can easily get me high on words. I've never seen words combined in that unique, beautiful way; in such a way that the words seem to catch the echo of human hazy and blurry emotions that are only able to be felt, not to be said. Most of their lyrics are sad, but the words are so poetic and beautiful that being unhappy seems like a richer better way to live (i sound more freaky than i intended to).

and it is true what you said that i live like a hermit in my own head. but when the sun shines again i'll pull the curtains and blinds to let the lights in.
sorrow drips into your heart through a pinhole just like a faucet that leaks and there is comfort in the sound.

Listening to death cab's songs makes me crave for sky, fields, trees, winds and sun where I can sit alone, being in touch the vague part of human feelings. I can listen to one song over and over again and dwell in its words.

There are images of technicolor shape and haziness of beautiful and sad things in mind if you let the words leak into your soul. At nights when you're in bed and the world is calmer or when you're looking at the road moving fast by your window, death cab's song would be the second best to fill in the atmoshere after, well, silence.

a melody softly soaring through my atmosphere where the soul meets body

and i have no more words to describe death cab. maybe it's preeminent to just feel their songs.


photo by Andrew Paynter from here

secrets

everyone has secrets.

there was magic in the air

i'm having one of the most magical nights in my life.

because the electricity's off.

i'm lying here watching the room space. i never realized the light of the moon coming through my window is that beautiful in its own simplicity. seabear's cat piano seeps in my ears. i know i'm bored and my blood's pretty thin but some nights i swear there was magic in the air. i let the words infiltrate; magic, that's what i feel now. without the veil from the city lights, the sky is so naked, so yellow i can imagine the invisible stars. the air is still. the trees too they seem stunned by the atmosphere: the branches and leaves are all at a halt. the crickets finally aren't only entertaining themselves. i look at the shadows on the wall, tranquility. these all feel sort of sad, but beautiful. so beautiful that it overwhelms me i want to cry. if only i could dilute this moment and put it into a wooden bottle and pour it down when i need it.

i know people at some point try searching their cores. pilgrimage. grandiose massive worship. travelling the world. living as a hermit. playing their music...
i'm lucky here in my own room, in the heat of december nights, in between the tiny segments of time, i feel the connection with the whole universe:
i find my soul.

journal, december.

listen seabear's cat's piano

*

maybe if you come closer i'll let you take my hand and hold my fingers and feel my weakness. maybe you'll find out that i'm a forlorn child. but maybe you'll also figure out that i'm capable of loving the world as it is.
or maybe we could stay together like silly strangers, prowling at our heels and chortling at the skyline and listening to the sound of the grass and feigning that we were in a fairytale.

journal entry010909