Seriously, I’ve been salivating for days now just thinking about coming in here and turning on my new little LED light, popping the top on a Diet Coke, and blasting some Sufjan Stevens (“Loverless Bed”, if you please) while I hammered out an update on this space…er, blog psssstttt mind-trap…
And now here we are.
And it’s all syrup.
No…no..no. No. NO. Let’s keep this shit real. I’m tired. And someone else I love died. And the drive home hurts my body. And there is still so much to do here at the new house. And all hands are on deck. And resources are stretched thin. And this…is what you get.
This. THIS.
And it’s not nothing, this voice. This muse. This girl who’s always been here. This Josephine. This girlwoman ladychild who undulates in and out of the ether simultaneously old and brand new. This lover. This fighter. This burn-it-all-nighter.
I play Sufjan on repeat, but just that one song. That’s the one I lost my mind to while riding back and forth on airplanes to my ruination. And then again later when the airplanes reversed course back and forth to my redemption.
It’s not about the time period, or even the man’s voice (although I’m sure Sufjan is a delight!), it’s the motion of the lyric. That soothing, rocking, babybabybabybaby-of-mine feeling where your mind and heart sway in rhythm with the vibrations of your inner light. Where you transform and infiltrate every crevice of your desires or your fears and you roll around in that shit like finely-milled sugar all sweet and suffocating.
I got curious just now and had to go look up the date Sufjan’s loveletter to my spirit (my before-mentioned “Loverless Bed”) was written and was delighted (and unnerved) to see that it was released in 1999. While I shouldn’t be one bit surprised, I exhaled when I saw the date. You see, I don’t trust my music/date alignment for much of the late 90s/early 2000s because trauma has a way of erasing your time continuum, or at least making it streaky and blurry like you washed it with an oily rag.
In my mind, I discovered the song in 2003 or 2004 but it makes sense that it came out in 1999 because someone I loved died. And I was tired. And the drive home hurt my body. And there was still so much to do at the new house. And all hands were on deck. And resources were thin. And 2003 or 2004…is what I got.
So, I did what I wanted tonight and I came in here and turned on my new little LED light, and popped a Diet Coke, and blasted some Sufjan Stevens while I hammered out and update.
And yet I’ve told you nothing.
And that makes me smile just a tiny, tiny bit.