The song is powerful. Loaded with associations and memories it catapults me back in a place where I look faithfully into the nowhere and nowhen. 'Wet questions' by Keziah Jones, and a sun going down through shades, sneaking into our messy room filled up with anger. 'what about the corpses in the seine?' exactly.
I paste the lyrics further down for your pleasure.
Lost are the moments of bitter tears, like a reflection in unsteady water, blurred, somewhat fickle.
This is how you fog up your sunglasses that shelter your eyes from the world out there. Nobody can see your eyes, red from tears that keep on rolling despite your wild entangled thoughts that in a swirlwind rock the caroussel of a tight rope dance over an abyss of madness.
Almost scared that you indulge into the self-pittying sentiments of tragic love-stories, of a dead lover, a broken heart and uncontrolled sobbing in the face of a seemingly cruel and indifferent destiny you try to catch a glance of the clouds in the blue, immaculate Californian sky but your glasses are steamed up and you can't see anything really: underneath there is the real pain and it doesn't care about any crazy, sinful, absurd, sentimental thoughts that you come up with to punish yourself, to torture yourself, to put yourself down, instead of up, - which would be what he needs now, in those difficult times.
'but, but.... it's always been fucking difficult! those three weeks of innocently holding hands have passed too quickly! he's been doing that for the third time now! you have a vacation - boom, he almost dies. How long will you be able to take this, huh????' that's so out of context honey. you have plenty of energy and resources to survive way worse times. sober up. please. of course the images of a funeral and a dead heart broken wild child cross your mind. of course the horrifying self-massacring glimpse into a train of thought that is best described as morbid, makes you bite your tongue. it is so morbid...he, dying, and you heart broken, and one problem less, life taking your decisions in it's own hands. child, child, don't let yourself be fooled. these are tricks your mind is playing. you are alright. you are okay. you don't feel that way for real.
because underneath all of this crazyiness, there is a pure lake of tears at the bottom of your heart, it is called love.
on Hollywood Blvd she sits down with Priscilla, a punk-girl from LA. She shares bubblegum and health pistachios 'they are healthy' she says and laughs, her eyes are so pretty and the bluegreen hair; my favorite color. she saves up money for whiskey and finds a guy who has the same charger as her phone, he hooks her up, little things make the day and Hector gets a tatoo. 'she is such a cutie' Priscilla says on the phone to her friend Jesse, who wants to talk to me and says I sound hot. Germans, hahaha, ah, so attractive.
a kite in the sky over the hills.
there are children everywhere.
and I sit down and redefine my love anew. It's not like it seems always. It's not like you think it has to be always, but it IS what it is. word!
so I pack up my mind and enter a new room: independence and courageous support. silently. if he is a gypsy but doesn't want to be there, well, you can't stop him from being in his life, right? so you rediscover the gypsy inside yourself and say: i can love, and be in a relationship that is somewhat loser than you wanted it to be. honey. I still love you.
but i got to leave. it is all good, dude, seriously, i mean,we know better than that. I don't need to sell tears and I don't need to be weak when i am actually strong. it is what it is.
just - don't die yet. please.
Wet Questions
What about the corpses in the Seine?
Do you know the names of any poets?
Can you say a prayer fit for a clone?
Should you say "ofay" if you're not white?
Cuz I found a letter written on the shore
The words in the water tell you what I saw
Who was Genji Monogatari?
Serious beauty is a plague?
In another size would it be yours?
Don't you ever read Bazooka Joey?
Cuz I found a letter written on the shore
The words in the water tell you what I saw
Would it be a crime to sell a tear?
Could you take it a raw with sugar cane?
Je suis venu te dire que je m'en vais
Je suis venu te dire que je m'en vais
Cuz I found a letter written on the shore
The words in the water tell you what I saw
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