The Memories Count The Miles.

To get to the end you have to start at the beginning
And more than anything I know
This is not the beginning of the end but the end of the beginning
Or somewhere through it, nevertheless
I’m not done, not nearly done yet
The seasons and the light out are in for a change
The scenery shifts and bends against its edges
If you look close enough it signals
If you hear intently it speaks
Until you see, until you listen to your fingertips
Frostbitten and stripped to white bones
The most silent passenger gets the best seats of the house
Let the wind hit your face, let its song refresh your memory
When you wait, soon enough
The bottom of your cup spells its name
Are you continent or state?
You give up the smaller things and with some luck
Don’t call out for the words
Hear instead of listening
See instead of looking, and
Tell me what you see, tell me what you hear
And keep it safe, caged in your chest
Until you breathe back out slowly.

I liked the way you kept to yourself
The handiwork and workings of your head
How you captured the streaking winter skies
And filtered them through your pen
I can only with to say the things I can’t aloud
Scribble out in tongues and then make sense of it
Is it even necessary?
Why must it all make sense?
What makes meaning such a vital part of ourselves?
So I watch you, I ask myself
You took the crisp air of morning
And with it you strung your guitar
Don’t worry about it now, we’ll make sense of it later
Let it out, play it out
Write the words that you can’t say
Itching at the tips of your fingers
Then you wove the clouds together
You asked me to write it out, but
I do it for myself, for my own peace of mind
I catch the light in my irises
And let it out through my mouth
It won’t make much sense to you, but
It’s what I need for now.

Daylight savings messed with my head today. It was nice and light out in the morning and I listened to TAI and didn’t think much about this.

Well… As serious as it gets. This is the place where I’ll post photography, music reviews, film reviews, concert stories, and so on. For a while now, I’ve wanted to separate my reblog clusterfuck tumbleblog from actual “blog” posts. Look at it as a scrapbook and a journal, this being my journal. I’m doing this for my own good, but hopefully you won’t get bored of it easily.

<3