The Rhythm of Malaise

June 23, 2006

I have this rhythm in my head. Words that I want to say that aren't going to come out right. Words that I don't know even want to come out, but they're going to come out anyways. The rhythm is not happening.

Things aren't going.

I type and I have to backspace.

It's not doing it.

I thought I knew what I wanted to say.

What I want to say is I want to paint because what is in my head needs a way out. I cannot express the images in words because I want you to see what I see when I'm not looking, not what you see when I say what I see. I don't have the hand-eye coordination, though. I don't have the vocabulary to express the green. I don't have the words to express trees and lust. I don't have the right textures, colors, and media. I don't have that thing that enables my fingers to do my bidding, even just to get me off.

All I have is words.

I just want to be free.

I want to breathe.

When I exhale, what I want to come out is satisfaction. Complacency. That feeling you get when you're in your car at midnight and you're going, but it doesn't matter where. It doesn't matter who it is on the other end of the drive as long as they're warm and they'll hold you. A tangle of naked limbs and lips. No words. I want that feeling of standing on the beach after the sunset, just barely too cold to be out. Breeze in your hair. Too far from the crowd to be affected. The crashing of the waves being your only thought. No one to comfort you but yourself. No reason to be comforted. You just need to be touched but you don't want to talk. Just stand there alone in contemplation before you have to go back to speaking. Before you have to go back to acknowledging the existence of others when all you want is solitude.

I Wish I Was a Girl by Counting Crows

The devil's in the dreaming
He tells you I'm not sleeping in my hotel room alone
With nothing to believe in
You dive into the traffic rising up
And it's so quiet
You're surprised
And then you wake
For all the things you're losing
You might as well resign yourself to try and make a change
I'm going down to Hollywood
They're gonna make a movie from the things that they find
crawling round my brain
I wish I was a girl so that you could believe me
And I could shake this static everytime I try to sleep
I wish for all the world that I could say,
"Hey Elizabeth, you know, I'm doing alright these days."
The devil's in the dreaming
You see yourself descending from a building to the ground
You watch the sky receding
You spin to see the traffic rising up
And it's so quiet
You're surprised
And then you wake
For all the things I'm losing
I might as well resign myself to try and make a change
But I'm going down to Hollywood
They're gonna make a movie from the things that they find
crawling round my brain
I wish I was a girl so that you could believe me
And I could shake this static every time I try to sleep
I wish for all the world that I could say,
"Hey Elizabeth, you know, I'm doing alright these days."
In one of these dreams, you forgive me
It makes me think of the bad decisions that keep you at home
How could anyone else have changed?
All these wrong conclusions that leave you alone
How could everyone rearrange?
How could everyone else have changed?
What I see I believe
For all the things I'm losing
I might as well resign myself to try and make a change
Well, I'm going down to Hollywood
They're gonna make a movie from the things that they find
crawling around my brain
I wish I was a girl so that you could believe me
And I could shake this static everytime I try to sleep
I wish for all the world that I could say,
"Hey Elizabeth, you know, I'm doing alright these days."
But I can't sleep at night