I am reading a book. I have been working on reading a book, to be more precise, I read the last part of it, and found it interesting, but now I am reading the beginning, and I feel bored.
I am reading a book. I have been working on reading a book, to be more precise, I read the last part of it, and found it interesting, but now I am reading the beginning, and I feel bored.
Checking this and that, and wondering why - with 100 zillions super duper music computers - music is so boring today in fact? Have a nice looping device today.
- To realize, that you are not anymore than just your parents desire to have a child. That you are not the result of passion, but just: an object born out of fear of failiure. Your life then, not passion, but fear, anxeities. Humans should, are obliged to! - must only give birth to new life, as a result of accidents of love!! Fuck protection!
Sam kiss her chin again, and then push her violently into the river, before she could even try to object.
- I like to see you fight, Marine! Marine! Fight, will you swim or will you drown, would your birth be worth a crown, we will see. Wont we!
- You, fuck! - Moron - Christus - Jesus - asshole!!!
Sam is sitting in the library playing distracted with a rolled-up ball of paper, observing the big clock at the end of the hall.
- Time, does it pass by or does it – in fact – stand still, with the universe orbiting around it?
He mumbles to himself, losing the ball, picking up his pencil and begin to drum restless on the table.
I kunst og sport syntes det at være således, at jo mere besværligt det er at udføre, desto større respekt hersker der om det. Dette imodsætning til arbejdet, hvor effektivisering er dette at gøre det svære let.
- Bullshit?
- Yes, he said “bullshit”!
- But why?
- I don't know! I said what I meant.
- Hmm, and you meant what you said?
- Yes, I said what I meant, I just told you so!
- It is not quite the same thing; what you say, and what you mean, I mean.
- Whatever! I said what I said I meant to say, that I said!
- So he said “bullshit”?
- Yes!!
It was a nice sunny day, I was playing – improvising, inventing music on the spot on the street - no canned tunes - as usual I played non-stop, for about an hour, developing my ideas, as they came to me.
Then, at some point, I saw a little girl standing quite a long distance from me, I suppose she must have been about 8-10 years old or so, with long blonde hair. She apparently had stopped, and her mother continued walking, now waiting for her to catch up.
-Yes, the song is kind of about someone being tired, wanting to sleep.
- Mmm.
- Of course this, being tired, is about life and death, not just being sleepy - having reached the end, and thus in fact wanting, or desiring to die, sleeping forever, letting go of everything, or being freed from everything, and so on.
- Right - what else is in that song? I mean, how does it go, the lyrics and such?
- I have forgotten.
Fragments before midnight
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michael@nyvang.com
Ce qui est perdu
ne se retrouve pas,
mais devient poésie.
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© Michael Nyvang unless otherwise stated.
