⌠preludes ( 2015 ) sentence starters âŒ
i lay there for an hour doing nothing. stretching my muscles. staring at the ceiling, staring at the day.
weâre not rich, you know. money is a worry.
iâve been inside all day.
i feel itchy and clammy, cooped up.
and i think, how good it would be to go out. how good to go⊠walk in the park, how good to just go anywhere.
and then i was so tired. and that was the tenth hour. and then i lay down in bed again, and that was the eleventh hour.
so many minutes on these worthless things. so now weâre at the⊠twelfth hour? must be. uh, that was the twelfth hour.
and then i will go to sleep, for eight hours. and those hours are easy.
every sunday, i get lilacs in the mail, no matter where i am.
how can i live up to this?
sometimes iâm a good person, and sometimes, i am not.
you should go, get out of the house.
you do still want to get married?
iâve got a little secret, iâm going to see him/her/you.
the voice of life, if life could speak then life would speak in his/her/your voice.
what does a genius talk about?
and i will kiss you on the top of your head, for that is the kindest place to place a kiss.
sometimes i get scared, youâve been drowning so long in your ocean, what if my boundless joy has a limit after all?
iâm not the rock you need to save you.
you are in a hole, and so i jump into the hole, but i canât get you out.
how many times can i answer the same question?
why donât you just snap the fuck out of it?
isnât it pathetic, isnât it a choice? canât you decide?
i know that you are terrified, i think.
how i wish you could hear the things you are, when youâre bursting and bleeding, and shaking and shying and shattering.
how can you keep that inside you?
how dare you hold yourself down!
do whatever you need to do to make yourself whole again.
just do it quick, before i get sick of you.
i donât ever want to get sick of you.
i know iâm supposed to be the better one, but the truth is, iâm no better than you.
you are here, youâre in the other room, i can hear every sound you make, dear. i am not alone, not alone, ever again.
all i hear is the sound of your life singing in my ears
all of the peace i had for so many years, now thatâs all gone.
all of my life is entwined with my love.
donât ever leave, you can help me live, dear.
you took all my empty space.
i wrote it when i was nineteen, i⊠i have no idea how i did it.
c-sharp minor is really the coolest key.
i just wanted it to be loud, just fucking loud, and epic.
thereâs so much restraint, something that is precious.
and people loved it, and they loved me. for a while, it was amazing.
i tense up just waiting for it.
i would pound on the wall and yell, stop, stop, stop!
what if that was the one? what if that was the one best thing iâll ever do, and i spend the rest of my life, just getting worse, and worse, and drying up, uninspiredâŠ
i donât even know how that happened.
it was dark that night, there was a sickening black fog.
she/he writes terrible things about good people, untrue things, unintelligent things.
and you are not pretty enough, youâre not smart enough, youâre not funny enough, youâre not deep enough.
the best years of your life are behind you, itâs all down hill now, so sad, so sad. this is all you came to.
i left after a few minutes, i spent most of the concert on the stairs.
i donât try anything, this is just what happens.
are you so small and stupid that you canât hear anything new? that your little mind wonât accept it and wonât shut the static out and let the music justâŠ
okay, okay, i am a b-list hack, you got me.
this is not your place, this is not for you, i donât want to hear your mind right now!
what is so fucking important about your opinion?
get out of here! get out! you are murdering souls! you are stepping on flowers, you are burning flowers with kerosene, you are shitting on diamonds!
close your eyes now. take a deep breath in, now slowly out.
listen to the sound of my voice, you are not here.
notice the color of the darkness behind your eyes. notice the other sounds around you. notice the movement of air across your face. notice that all these things are music.
you are perfectly comfortable.
you are there, where you always have been.
do you know where you are?
you know how it happened. it was not an accident.
how do i know where to go?
mountains / the second piano concerto
she/he/you came to me, and sang of mountains.
and she/he/you looked on every page, to see if he was there.
then i came to him/her/you, and sang of silence.
and i sang to him/her/you of nothing at all.