Not bad for some immigrants.

December 10, 2013 § Leave a comment


 

“Sounds so soulful, don’t you agree?” Jay Z – Otis

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There’s grace in the moment. Take note to find it, enjoy it. Just as you start to slip under those bright lights, just as the faces start to twist and pull and become part of the same blur as the depth perception slip and turn everything back to two dimensions. While the air stays thick and heavy with the movement and the bass. It’s slipping and going now. It’s all become one under those bright lights. It all sits up and takes the attention. There’s no hiding any more because you’re removed, you are no more there than a person who sees what you are seeing on a canvas in a museum. It’s just a slideshow. It’s just a peep show. It’s just paint on canvas in a dark and rarely used room in the brain. Dusty, unkempt, an old projector plays the still onto the derelict wall and you stand and you see how it all twists together and yet you are unable to distinguish the noise from the sound from the people and the lights.

Then the morning comes. The sun crack through the dirty window and moth eaten curtains in the dusty brain room. You find yourself stood back amongst it in the sharp and piercing light of day. And it’s the same picture. But someone burnt a whole diagonally through the middle. All of a sudden it’s just dim light and twisted carbon paper. It’s on the floor and all around. You come to the conclusion that you did this. You took something complex, with many dimensions and much depth, you drank it flat, too it to dark room and burned it. 

Hangover. 

 

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