i’ve dreamt i was angry, but less angry than i was when i finally found sleep. i shouted for a long time to defend someone but by doing so, i was also defending myself. i’m not that surprised to shout like madness itself in my dreams, every day is just another fight to avoid resent swallowing me. i’m even angry at the fact that i’m angry, but i won’t allow it out or i might hurt anyone i touch. it will probably swallow me entirely, eventually, but i can’t care enough, it’s just slightly better than another scar. it’s swirling and crawling under my skin and it sinks deeper with every move i make, so i’m standing very still, just as long as i can make another good picture…
***
i’ve got yet to meet someone who’d understand the urge. i don’t care that much about mere memories, about fixing mere memories. and i really don’t care about showing where i’ve been or what i’ve done, i don’t need proofs. i barely see images when i look at old pictures, i see things beyond that. i watch feelings. mine, others. feelings at the time i snapped the shutter, feelings about about relationships to others, about their feelings toward anything and everything. i’ve really got yet to meet someone who understands this urge. fixing things and faces, either because i was feeling something strong, either because i was craving to feel something which i wasn’t sure was there. a long time ago, i’ve fixed smiling faces to feel like i was there, like i was part of something. now i’m certain that i’m not but i could never be sure that i really was then. and a few pictures don’t prove anything, if you haven’t been taught yet that physical closeness means nothing, you will someday. not that i really wish that anyone would learn that. not in the way i did anyhow.
***
it’s been a while i haven’t felt time. physically. like when you don’t let it flow through you but make plannings and lists of things to do and schedules and keep track of things. i haven’t kept any of my usual ways to plan things and december fills in and it could as well be october or next march and i couldn’t really tell. it might as well be december 2010 or 2002 and i couldn’t really tell and in a sense, it’s liberating. i’m going to have to pay for that somehow, it’s going to fall on my head someday or maybe it already has. like running at full speed into a wall. i’m sort of trusting myself for not being able to settle forever in the mediocre life i’m living right now, but maybe i’ve hit my head against one of my walls one too many times. but honestly now, who cares?
***
i’ve dreamt that i was angry, but it was nothing compared to how angry i was when i fell asleep. maybe somehow i’m not letting anything out and hold on to that because it’s the only way that i know that i do care. and after i shouted my eyes out, someone i can’t know was there and i looked into their sparkling eyes and i saw love…
so… just as long as i’m making pictures i like…
Eels – Love of the Loveless
Pain is such an odd sensation. You can attempt to express, but without the feeling itself, literally crawling and pushing under your own skin, there is no comparison.