Bright lights. Inspiration. Colours. Nights. Laughter. Thoughts. Life.
...that even if'n there were a vast ring of helpful, happy, friendly people, who'd extend their collective arm 'n call me 'n invite me, wantin' me to spend the brite white nite w/ them, all singin' laughin' anythin' dissolvin' in each other's souls w/ no hours minutes no more nothin' all embracin' 'n accept'n, 'n w/ no ulterior motive -- that i would still rather choose to brood w/ my sad mad mind in my tent my lone companion, 'n to write down m' loneliness, 'n not understand it, 'n despair over it, 'n regret not goin', 'n not go on any other times either, because this is who i am 'n must ever remain, now 'n forever, always 'n always -- first 'n final, proud 'n humble headstone-bedrock amen amen amen finish'd.What can I say; it's not much of a joke. But it's *something*. You asked, and I answered. But the *real* joke, well... I don't really have to tell it, do I. I guess you could say I believe in destiny; or rather, *fate*. That's really the only explanation. --As you can see from the way I type, I've engaged travel-mode. :) I will be going from Tana Bru to Bodö, through the Lofoten, starting tomorrow. Some of the best views known to man await me, along with vast plateaus of pure-crystal loneliness. All bathed in an eerie, unearthly light by a restless, insomniac Sun. Foreboding though it be, I cannot wait to feel it! There's so little to feel down here, it seems (but only *seems* of course; I just try so hard to see that I'm squinting my eyes shut, hm).I will report in the form of a blog (with oodles of pictures); an artistic effort, not another personal wail. Hopefully. The trip will take 2-3 weeks; expect a month or more after for the report. You don't have to read it, but I'll have to write it, and, well, you're curious and I write well (on my best forays).And with the songs you write -- I wonder who they're really of/for if I didn't inspire them in any way? they're too bitter, too sweet to be all make-believe -- you're no stranger to queer and beautiful, lip-biting longings, and they'll be the heart of what I'll write down -- *try* to, anyway. So I'm not trespassing too much to write this here instead of direct to E.; it just seems like the thing to do (right or wrong). Fate? --I guess I write this, too, to feel *less* lonely on the way, knowing that someone's (in *some* form) waiting for my return. Bit of a paradox, but it's all very well, hm.Anyway it's time to go. I will close with an appropriate tune;https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WtfHk2hSlqA(Chris Isaak -- Wicked Game)It may seem like a bitter choice, but it's really not. My world is clouds and melancholy, and so's this song (the under-current, or should I say under*tow*?). My love for it is infinite, even if I cannot see or feel it. --It's life that played the game, not you or I. It was *fate* that tricked me, not you E. Fate and my tendency to dream (I'm tempted to say 'too much', but you cannot dream too much, no matter the consequences). I want to believe so, and one day I will.Fool for you for good*,-v.P.S. Again I speak as if you were one person. Maybe you're more than one. But you're less than two, and yet more at the same time. If only I'd have had such friends. Maybe then I'd still have some left. Ah well. I still have Lady Loneliness, and she's enough. Sometimes more than I can handle, ha.P.P.S. There will be treasures in the blog as well; two of them. :) Maybe three, if I'll wait to make it when I've returned. --I'll try and not tarnish them with expectations. All I know and need to know for sure is you have been my inspiration, and I've enjoyed making them.*I do have Tinder installed, and maybe the old Viking realm still has some goddesses left. The die is cast; the wheel a-roll. :p