insomnia, the egokiller

That's right...can't sleep. I love sleep really, it just doesn't like me much right now.
I suppose a one week reprieve from school isn't really cutting it, now that that week has withered to a pathetic few days and all I really want to do is veg and quit worrying about schedules, work, presentations, learning new technologies when I'm still wondering what was wrong with the old technologies...

I came across a fun c.d. from my past today at Hastings. I love used c.d.'s especially because they're cheap. Anyway, I found a c.d. from the band "Black tape for a blue girl" called Remnants of a deeper purity. I love the music and the printed lyrics more than the actual sound of the lyrics though I wish they'd let Lucien sing more on it, as she has the most gorgeous voice. But I don't get to make that decision. Anyhow, some of the lyrics borrow from one of my absolute favorite naughty writers, the late, great Anais Nin. Yet my favorite lyrics come from the song "Fitful" which are not included in the sound recording. Instead what you get is very beautiful music. Here are the lyrics just because I think they're amazing.

"Fitful"
if i could reconstruct you from a thousand tear-stained memories, which one would i build? shall i call you fourth from your fitful sleep to re-emerge, renewed? if we could reconstruct ourselves from a thousand bloody fragments, would the knives still tear a gaping hole through the words we thought were truth?
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I LOVE that last line. Just the question it poses is amazing to me...the idea of reconstructing that questions where exactly is reality anyway? Is it in skin? In memory? How can it be when neither skin nor memory remains exactly as it is, this moment? So then how do we relate to one another anyway when words are so small and yet amplified? Inept and yet necessary? What is truth anyway, if not as subjective as memory? This song also makes me think of memory, as in what part of our lives will we be remembered for? To whom will our time on this earth actually matter once we are no longer here and those we loved are no longer here? That was one aspect that always humored me about the drama in alot of "goth" music and romantic poetry...the relentless existentialist questioning over loss, love, dreams or even the beauty of dying leaves, falling rain and the mysterious meaning (and senselessness) of it all.

To me, silence can carry more weight than the most trivial conversation, particularly when people like to talk just to hear themselves speak. If you can't say something profound or profoundly relevant, well, then be silent and let me wonder what (or at least believe) you're thinking. I promise to do the same for you. Seriously though, who doesn't hate boring conversations? We have a whole catagory of boring, stupid conversations masquarading themselves as "political debate." Why add more? Life is far too short to be wasted on proving how "intelligent" we are and/or how foolish. One last note, the words "beautiful people" according to page 128 of webster's dictionary means: "wealthy, fashionable people of the leisure class." If this is the case, may you never be "beautiful" and may you own and distribute many copies of Ambrose Bierce's "The Devil's Dictionary" to Bible salesmen/women and create harmless havoc most happily. (I have tried this. The look on their faces is simply priceless!)

Humbly (and sleepily) yours.

peace!

"Question authority, then become your own."

(don't know where I read that from, so if you know the author, feel free to respond)