there and back again

“Hold your insides ’cause you’re cold at night/Warm your heart now, ’cause you’re by my side”
July 1, 2008, 5:45 pm
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Well I was definitely right.  I will definitely not be updating every day anymore.  I’m in Cambridge and all I can think about is how much I want to be home.  How much I want to be at my friend Max’s house, curled up and happily drunk on the couch or in bed, sprawled out and elbowing the people I love and listening to music or watching truly stupid movies.  This place is lovely but this is not the summer to be here.  

I’ve been listening to Beach House lately; a bus took me from London to Cambridge on Sunday and all the while I watched the streets and churches and rivers and museums and houses go by while listening to this dream.  I tried at one point to switch the music, to listen to Beirut in fact.  Something that felt like Old World Europe, something that felt fantastic but grounded, earthy.  It didn’t work.  That isn’t what I need at all right now, I want nothing but fantasy.  I spend my days walking this beautiful city, with its cobblestone streets and history, with its fields and river and spires that are a burnished gold in the midday sun (and it’s always sunny here for now), and I narrate my life to those who are absent.  

There’s this place in my head right now, a sort of Baltimore/New York hybrid, where I walk around all day, alone and feeling safe and warm in my loneliness.  It feels good to be alone in this place, to be secure in my need for solitude, to be content in myself.  The streets aren’t as pretty as they are here, people are stranger, everything is the wrong type of old and the wrong type of new.  It feels nice to be there, this place where Beach House plays and I give myself permission to create fantasies for myself, waiting for me, when I slip into bed at night. 

The climb to my room in Cambridge.

The trip to the Telectroscope.

Where I am versus where I want to be right now.


“Too Little/Too Late”
May 23, 2008, 11:21 pm
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You can burn your paper fingers in the ashtray
Place your swollen lips on mine
You can shave your heavy head in my carpeted hallway
Sure for the first time you’re wearing the right clothes

Now take them off
Meet me on the band room rug
Tie my right hand to the ride

You can take a live wire into the bath with you
For a feeling you can’t find
You can entertain your childhood friends with a tour of the bedroom
Laugh to erase the dirt on your mind

Oh let’s move out
Meet me at the motel
Tie my right hand to the bible

Too little too late but we can’t say no
It’s too much to feel
Tie my right hand to the bible