Tag Archives: Vampire Weekend

[sic] playlist: run.

Run_Playlist

When I run, I like having a rhythm, a story. I love running to each one of these songs because of their beats. They encourage me to push myself past limitations. I love them because of their lyrics. Finding freedom, owning pain, embracing love. Run Boy Run was added at the suggestion of Laura, and it is such a perfect fit. I cannot wait to start running again so I can run to this song through tree-lined streets, humidity clinging to me like a fine silk dress. Snow Patrol is a perfect cool down. Emotional, triumphant. Gulp air, let the cool water rush down your throat, feel the delicious soreness. You are a warrior.

I hope that next time you find yourself pounding the pavement, you listen to these songs and feel free.

[sic]

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[sic] theme for week 5: run.

Running is something that has been on my mind for a long time now. I love to run, revel in the feeling of sweat and utter exhaustion. Thanks to a heel injury, I’m out of the running game for a little while, and it sucks. I crave it. I just started running again after being sick for a while, and boom! another roadblock. I have to take the time to get better so I can run the right way, but I’m so frustrated!

There’s more to running than just the physical act itself. There’s an emotional cleansing that happens every time I get my body moving, and I miss it so much. The will to move, to challenge my lungs, muscles, joints, brain. In the midst of so much transition, what I want to do most is just get the fuck out and run for a while, and I can’t. When I run, the ideas flow, words and stories crowd my mind. I am totally at home. I need movement.

There’s also the urge to run away from the responsibilities of adult life, just get on a train/bus/ferry/plane with Lover Man and be free, just the two of us for a little while. He could paint, I could write. My feet will stop aching, his hands will be unburdened by the weight of heavy labor and work instead at creating something wonderful.

So, where do you want to go, Kindred spirits? Are you running from something, or are you running towards something better? Let’s run together, clear our heads, and find something beautiful.

[sic]

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[sic] meditation on ancient: a playlist and a poem.

ancient_playlist

Listen and be transported. Ancient

 

ANCIENT
bones
dig up the calcified relics
dust them off and
don’t tell anyone the truth
build them up
sort and stack
rearrange until they appear attractive
the Jurassic era, ferocious
magnificent, wild beasts
pre-human
pre-god
consumed by fire
or ice
the verdict is still out
the jaws hold only echoes
nothing concrete

they live in museums now
some shockingly nude
skeletons in a great hall
overlooking Central Park
guarding three dimensional history lessons
others covered in skins of
their brethren
next to intricately carved replicas of
native people
who still exist
as if extinction is imminent

I want to press you into
clay
carve your memory in earth
mine
all mine
the faeries will stand watch they have been around longer than any of us
zipping about
planting the first seedlings
from ambrosia
sipping sap

I think a faery was the first
vampire
plant syrup was far too sweet
they required
bitter, bitter fruit
and made humans
in their image, then
blurred us all, softened
edges, now we are not so
beautiful
we are all just short of perfection
injected faery dust into our veins
waited for the magic to bewitch
these organs crafted from
slippery fish skins
trout pout hearts
Shakespeare was a mouthpiece
for the fae
the tragedies in particular
those absinthe loving little fuckers crave
bloodshed
(ovulation was just their sick sense of humor at work)

there is a show at the planetarium

simulation of becoming

big bangs

white hot stars sizzle

ancient fae trapped in rocks

this is what i think

there is magic in us now

my guts
viscera
petrified
you keep them in the wooden bowl
by your bed
next to your keys
I retrieved most of them last time I saw you
but I left a blob about the size of a quarter
it’s probably a hard little smear
you tried to scrape off with your thumbnail
but stubbornly it
stays

i’m preserving bittersweet memories
like insects trapped in
amber
they will outlive all of us
we will be dust
and they will still have the capacity to sting.

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