...but most of the time I just feel lonely and sit in my room and listen to the Cure and FEEL EMPHATICALLY the words of Robert Smith as he sings such things as "I tried to laugh about it, cover it all up with lies. I tried to laugh about it, hiding the tears in my eyes", and "In the heat of the night the animals scream, in the heat of the night walking into a dream", and "I'm lost in a forest once again", and somehow, strangely, relating to lines like "10:15 on a Saturday night, and the tap drips under the strip light and I'm sitting in the kitchen sink and the tap drips drip drip drip drip drip drip drip drip drip drip drip..." and all sung in such a beautiful melancholy voice, diseased and beautiful...And I've slipped back into my coffee addiction which eases my mind during that short happy period of the smooth liquid sliding down the back of my throat, but keeps me awake in the early hours of the morning, awake and cold, awake and cold and lonely, and this time I've switched CDs but I'm still listening to the Cure, different songs, and at three in the morning all I can think of is that one line from 'lullaby' over and over in my head - "The Spiderman is having you for dinner tonight".
Lonely cold and scared of the future, here comes another line, "I whisper your name in an empty room...distant noises, forgotten voices, howling in my empty head, commit the sin, commit yourself, change your mind you're always wrong, always wrong". I tell my self I must give up coffee, but vow this at night, and by the time cold light breaks through my lonely window, all resoloutions are gone, and I finally slip into the brief numbness of sleep, praying to God or anyone who might listen or care that the dreams will stay away and I can sleep in a void tonight - the quiet comfort of a temporary death. I wish my mind would be still, but even in sleep it trembles - it troubles me all the more - in sleep I can't sit and close my mind and block everything else - I finally know all and die a million deaths - deaths both small and huge - "Sometimes I'm dreaming, so many different names, sometimes I'm dreaming, so many different ways...there's no white walls."
As I slide further and further into this mess I cannot understand, something in my mind tells me these songs are REAL, I think once more "Creatures kissing in the rain, shapeless in the dark again, In the hanging gardens please don't speak, in the hanging gardens no one sleeps, In the hanging gardens change the past, In the hanging gardens we're on first and last. Fall, fall, fall, fall, out of the walls, jump, jump, out of time. Fall, fall, fall, fall, out of the sky, cover my face as the animals cry," and I'm convinced that's where I am - believe it's even more real when I sit outside and the trees and flowers, and in the heat of the night I DO hear the animals scream - they scream in my head, and I want to kill these animals, kill these animals and stuff them between my vegetarian teeth - I think to myself that if they die, so too will I, but then I will somehow be reborn - miraculously rise Christlike - and be free of these primal screams of desolation and betrayal. "And everyone turned over, troubled in their dreams again." I think I may be dying...
- grace o'reilly |
