Pondering in my bed the other night, I was thinking about some of my favorite records. In An Aeroplane Over The Sea by Neutral Milk Hotel, Good Morning by Alkaline Trio, Control by Pedro The Lion, Deja Entendu by Brand New, The Soul Album by Otis Redding, ( ) by Sigur Ros, and Blue Skies, Broken Hearts... Next 12 Exits by The Ataris. So I made a playlist of all my favorite albums and their last tracks. If anyone knows me, they know that I am pungent dick-weed when it comes to making mix CDs, tapes, or playlists for people. I even have a braggadocios aura to my posture whenever I talk about it as well. Either way when I put the playlist on shuffle it didn't take me long to realize that the majority of the final tracks were less-than happy tracks. Take for instance the track Rocket City off of Northstars album Pollyanna, I mean as much as the record takes the notion of melancholy to a very trendy and catchy arena of life, the last track seems to not try and bury the misery.
"And when I fall don’t forget me….
Cause if I stay here I’ll be dying forever…"
The whole track has a rather scathing Icarus vibe to it. And maybe that's what it's like completing a monumental record. You find yourself flying to close to the sun. The closing track to the infamous playlist, Is That You, Scully was a toss up between Big Star's Thirteen or Otis Redding's Cigarettes and Coffee. Both of those songs have a deep meaning for me. I always imagined having my first dance with my wife to Thirteen because it's an adorable acoustic ballad about young love and telling the girls Dad to fuck off. Romantic, right? But then there was Cigarettes and Coffee, and hot damn, that song perfectly described my favorite moments with the people that I love. Just being together, smoking cigarettes just talking... or just simply being present. I'm fairly positive I chose Otis in the end, but what does it matter now, right? Otis was my Icarus song. The moment when I flew to closeto the sun.Perhaps that is what its like when you're at the end. You can fully see the sun when you fall back to Earth.
This is the best story I have about the sun.
[Also I apologize in advance for how emotionally graphic this gets. But I wrote this in October of 2015 after leafing through an old journal and seeing the physical entry about this day.]
It is time to stop sulking quietly, and at least start exercising my frustrations out loud. Over the past several months I have built up this incredible amount of bile. You know what bile is right? It's that dark yellow, greenish liquid that is excreted in your stomach to help you break down yum-yum food stuffs. But if your stomach builds up to much bile, then your stomach will develop the personalty of blood-raged cowboy who lost their family and small baby calf in an Indian raid. It's about to bust a cap in your side and not even ask if you feel lucky, punk.
Anywho, I need to burn this shit off like a rocket burns fuel before it breaks through the atmosphere, and we are going to start with what's at the bottom of the tank. And in this particular metaphor, I have no clue what the atmosphere could be, well besides that soft-core hip-hop duo from Minneapolis. But I do know what bile consists of, therefore this could make for an interesting adventure for you readers.
In fact, I've been internalizing this venomous melodrama for so long that my next several blogs could be as impetuous as Han shooting first. And don't you argue with me on that either (There's a time and place to discuss the tragedy of CGI).
Either way, in my last blog post I mentioned a particular playlist that was constructed for a female from the past. Ha, ha, oh wait. Aren't they all from the past?
Anywho, the mix was titled, "Is That You, Scully?" And it wasn't titled that just because Gillian Anderson is a one serious sex kitten, but because maybe every once in a while I felt like Fox Mulder when she unconvincingly sighed in my general direction. For those of you who do watch the X-Files, you know, as I know that I'll be stuck in a constant state of wanting to believe if I am to play the role of Mulder... So to be the Fox, is to be forever alone. But just in case all the tacky fan fiction holds up, SCULDER FOREVER!
I think I went off on a tangent, back to "...Scully."
Have you ever looked into someones eyes and thought to your self, "I know what the second to last track will be on the mix I make for you when I ask you to marry me?" Come on, raise your hand if this particular phenomena has happened to you.
Don't be shy.
Ah! Yes! You in the back.
I see that hand... May the lord bless you child.
But yes, I remember looking deep into those fathomless titian eyes. My insides expanded as if I were a crumpled piece of dry parchment that had just been soaked in water. Kind of like when as a kid you'd shove the wrapping down off of a straw so it would make a small chode like pile. Then you'd put one droplet of water on it and watch it turn into a worm. Yeah, that was feeling... well that coupled with an awfully dumb smile and the thought of, "I already know the second to last song that would be on your tape."
And just in case you're wondering what the fuck I am talking about, here is a Youtube video that could possibly destroy this sweet and lovely imagery.
So with that said, have you ever wished that time travel was real?
Not so you could win the lottery, but simply so that you could go back and watch a moment one more time. One more time before it all turned to shit. And let's be honest here, you are reading the ramblings of a hopeless romantic. One that has a hard time letting go of the past, simply because he thinks he hasn't learned his lesson.
And maybe this is it.
Maybe these new blogs are just for me.
Perhaps all I am doing to taking my self through some metaphysical therapy session with bad-ass pictures and sad songs as my guide.
Or perhaps there are other people that feel this way as well, and for some reason you're glad to be in good company.
The second to last song for Scully was Wolves by Phosphorescent. And I wanted to use the live version of the song too. I thought the ambience of him being in a church would be a nice touch to the end of the mix. I chose this song because we would not understand extreme joy without reflecting on extreme sadness. And there's a lot more I could say about the song, but I'll reserve that for someone that cares to listen. But I'll also let you take from it what you wish. Also, while you listen, down below is an old journal entry from when I first arrived in the country.
Journal Entry #5
"28/8/2015:
Its been several days, and frankly I thought I'd be writing more, but I haven't. I've been distracting my self with drinks, trying to meet new people and consistently talking to Scully. We've literally talked everyday. I'm sure at some point it will taper off, and I'm already dreading it...
I'm confused about the reality of my feelings for her. Am I in 'love' or am I just in the wrong place and the right time? Classes haven't really got hard yet, and maybe that's because my heart isn't into it.
I don't know where I want to be...
Do I want to be home with Scully? Or do I want to be here pursuing a future that has yet to take shape and form? Maybe I'm just a bum waiting to get lucky. You know, have fortune fall into my lap just like my misfortunes have.
I hope I am doing the right thing.
Maybe one day, I'll return and be a better man.
A strong man.
A man worth a family and job.
I need to be asking myself, why am I hung up on Scully? I mean she was instant. It was like I was sleeping bullet that had been loaded into a sniper rifle. The blast awoke me, and then all of sudden I was in someones heart. Maybe when you know -- you know.
I just don't want to be wasting my time or hers...
I know she cares for me, but I am a very selfish man and its almost never enough for me. I am constantly thirsty for love and passion. Perhaps its an in human thirst that can't be cured by the touch of a woman, or maybe it can be.
Fuck it Effler, make a list: Start Comedy Society, Phone Calls, Address, Read-read-read, and Grow."
