so this playlist doesn't flow very well at all, but the idea is there. i'm settling into a new type of loneliness, one that doesn't sting, but one that isn't warm or gentle. it's tidy, well-kept, the walls still blank. i spend my days in a well-lit basement, new floors, old windows.
tampa is finally behind me, but only by five hours and a few weeks. i wonder if in june i could have figured i'd be in savannah by november. my words are still stuck in july, in thought and theory. i really thought i would be able to release them, but the timing wasn't right and now they'll sit stagnant for a few more years. i can't imagine that things won't come around again.
here's what i've been listening to since i moved to savannah two weeks ago. i've created commas, measured columns and rows, watched the gap in my knowledge widen.
springlike - hiroshi fujiwara
it's not anywhere close to being spring but it is the beginning of winter and driving up barnard through fog and leaving the research center into dusk feels as dreamy as this.
electrically possessed (switched on, vol. 4) / 2021
i've been electrically possessed by stereolab is only legible if you're walking by my parked car or stopped close enough behind me at a stop light. so consistently good, always on my mind, always what i want to hear. vaguely hurried, but for what, to where? it's tangled in the moss hanging from the looming oak trees, trailing softly from a flashing pedestrian walkway signal, caught in the whisp of vapor that fills my car as soon as i shut the door and start the engine.
message from home - broadcast
the view is clear this time of year, i knew you'd throw it away. things have cleared up, i'm no longer clouded by what i wound so tightly around myself this year. and now i'm popping popcorn by nine, clearing the sink and turning off the lights before ten. five minutes is a long time, especially at the end of the night.
we're getting warmer, only slightly hazy. i try to make it to the library before six, i'll have to remember to return in twenty-one days. nothing but a cookbook with one corner turned down, pasta that's been sealed in tupperware since wednesday, in the trash by monday. carrots for lunch, dinner started by six. the day divides amongst itself at six, structure absent from both sides.
heart cooks brain - modest mouse
the lonesome crowded west / 1997
i walk through this song, the riff walks through me. i get refilled throughmyears and my heart's the long stairs. i drive when i should walk instead, i scroll when i should read. there's nothing driving me, the only thing propelling me is the cool new clock i bought over the weekend, leaving for work by 8:40, parked by 8:50, at my desk by nine. absence versus thin air.
before i got here - palberta
i'm getting tired, still need to finish the dishes in the sink, brush my teeth. this a thoroughly enjoyable album. jumpy, slightly delirious, but nowhere near losing it. controlled disillusion, not quite gone yet. it made more sense in january, waiting in the parking lot at the dentist's office.
i was under the impression that it was 2004, maybe 2005 at the latest. august lingers into november, it'll be gone by december. maybe i'll get a grip on it by then, eight days from now will be different than it was eight prior.
// 7 songs, 27 minutes //
