"Your Day"
Aug. 10th, 2004 11:31 amSquirrel Nut Zippers - [Hell]--- Everyboody get's One. And it's true. Everyone gets a day wher eit is, in fact their day. The days i note, where everything, for good or ill, simlpy seems to fall into place, and lock down, and you notice things, and you learn things. (Tom Waits - [The Piano Has Been Drinking (Not Me)]). The days are yours, and you gain from them, gain a solidity of your perspective, and of the things you knew, all along. Maybe you'll have to think about them, more, later, and maybe they'll fuck you up, and make you cry, on any other day, but on Your Day, they ring out clear as crystal champagne flutes...
Maybe it's a phone call, or an e-mail, or a livejournal post, that starts it off. Maybe it's simply looking out and the sky is that shade of grey you remember, from when you were really little, on mornings before you had a great day at school... Things you remember, and piece together, in retrospect, forward. (Damon Albarn& Michael Nyman - [Boyd's Journey]). Whatever starts it, it's like the proverbial snowball, and hillside. You roll it, and sometimes you get nothing, and are disappointed, but those days, your days, you get it all. Full-bore avalanche, wiping everything clean, and utterly changing the landscape.
Your days will not always be good. They will not always make you smile, the whole day through, and they will not always hand you $5, or $666.51, or anything at all. Sometimes, they'll take, and sometimes they'll fuck you up, in a lot of ways. (Outkast - [Roses]). But you get that, these days. It locks into place, yes? and you understand the consequensialist-style "greatest good, for the greatest number." Things can suck, but still serve a larger purpose... Interlocking pieces don't necessarily negate autonomy.
I only say this, because i realised, a few minutes ago, how many days i've had. There are a lot of them. And i'm pretty fucking grateful, for them. I don't always get a reciprocation of speech, or of motions made toward contact, and some things simply rub me the wrong way, raising my hackles, all to hell... But that's ok. I can see that as having a reason, if i want, or Not, if i want, and either of those can be ok.
I simply hope that you get to have many more of your days.
I'm off to wait for my dresser. Talk to you all later.
Maybe it's a phone call, or an e-mail, or a livejournal post, that starts it off. Maybe it's simply looking out and the sky is that shade of grey you remember, from when you were really little, on mornings before you had a great day at school... Things you remember, and piece together, in retrospect, forward. (Damon Albarn& Michael Nyman - [Boyd's Journey]). Whatever starts it, it's like the proverbial snowball, and hillside. You roll it, and sometimes you get nothing, and are disappointed, but those days, your days, you get it all. Full-bore avalanche, wiping everything clean, and utterly changing the landscape.
Your days will not always be good. They will not always make you smile, the whole day through, and they will not always hand you $5, or $666.51, or anything at all. Sometimes, they'll take, and sometimes they'll fuck you up, in a lot of ways. (Outkast - [Roses]). But you get that, these days. It locks into place, yes? and you understand the consequensialist-style "greatest good, for the greatest number." Things can suck, but still serve a larger purpose... Interlocking pieces don't necessarily negate autonomy.
I only say this, because i realised, a few minutes ago, how many days i've had. There are a lot of them. And i'm pretty fucking grateful, for them. I don't always get a reciprocation of speech, or of motions made toward contact, and some things simply rub me the wrong way, raising my hackles, all to hell... But that's ok. I can see that as having a reason, if i want, or Not, if i want, and either of those can be ok.
I simply hope that you get to have many more of your days.
I'm off to wait for my dresser. Talk to you all later.
no subject
Date: 2004-08-10 11:27 am (UTC)no subject