like some passing afternoon.
and i think my favourite word is and.
when i listen to this song, i remember a time a couple days ago, with the seat all the way back in my car, the windows down, and the orange streetlights seeping in. a goofy hat over my head, it smelled like my hair, and i don't understand how people sleep with hats on their faces in the movies because they just smell goofy, and it's usually the men that have been traveling for days and sleeping in the fields, their scents of sweat and alcohol and cheap diner food. their shoes are always wearing through and you never understand how someone can travel so fast in a world so big without something so important as anything with wheels, or i suppose wings, but there aren't planes without wheels.
i would really really just like to take a cross country bike trip. i mean, it doesn't have to be all the way across the country. just to canada. i guess that would be across the country, huh? i almost said 'eh?' but considering i just mentioned canada, i decided against it.
--
and when i used to drive to free myself, i used to drive with him. he would sleep in the passenger seat, so quietly, i would put on kings of convenience, or iron & wine, or american analog set, something simple and melodic that wouldn't wake him annoyingly. i would stop and get a coffee at a gas station, specifically remembering a horrible "french vanilla cappuccino," the kind with the water and the powder that makes a creepy grinding noise when it dispenses from the machine, i remember getting one of those from the citgo, or was it a marathon? i think it was a citgo on rt. 47 in morris. i remember taking all the back roads, and finding a creepy "keep out" sign posted somewhere off hansel road. whenever we drove past this shady little brick shed(?) with a window and a streetlight above it, we would turn on the devotchka song "viens avec moi" because of the creepy intro with the sound of squeaking things that only sound like someone is getting snuck up on at a rusty old park. that song still creeps me out.
--
i had something i wanted to write about but i'm sure it's not important now.
thanks for listening, blog.
love,
jes
and i think my favourite word is and.
when i listen to this song, i remember a time a couple days ago, with the seat all the way back in my car, the windows down, and the orange streetlights seeping in. a goofy hat over my head, it smelled like my hair, and i don't understand how people sleep with hats on their faces in the movies because they just smell goofy, and it's usually the men that have been traveling for days and sleeping in the fields, their scents of sweat and alcohol and cheap diner food. their shoes are always wearing through and you never understand how someone can travel so fast in a world so big without something so important as anything with wheels, or i suppose wings, but there aren't planes without wheels.
i would really really just like to take a cross country bike trip. i mean, it doesn't have to be all the way across the country. just to canada. i guess that would be across the country, huh? i almost said 'eh?' but considering i just mentioned canada, i decided against it.
--
and when i used to drive to free myself, i used to drive with him. he would sleep in the passenger seat, so quietly, i would put on kings of convenience, or iron & wine, or american analog set, something simple and melodic that wouldn't wake him annoyingly. i would stop and get a coffee at a gas station, specifically remembering a horrible "french vanilla cappuccino," the kind with the water and the powder that makes a creepy grinding noise when it dispenses from the machine, i remember getting one of those from the citgo, or was it a marathon? i think it was a citgo on rt. 47 in morris. i remember taking all the back roads, and finding a creepy "keep out" sign posted somewhere off hansel road. whenever we drove past this shady little brick shed(?) with a window and a streetlight above it, we would turn on the devotchka song "viens avec moi" because of the creepy intro with the sound of squeaking things that only sound like someone is getting snuck up on at a rusty old park. that song still creeps me out.
--
i had something i wanted to write about but i'm sure it's not important now.
thanks for listening, blog.
love,
jes
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