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.:Saturday, November 12, 2005:.
Across The Universe.

From Fiona Apple.

Words are flowing out like endless rain into a paper cup,
They slither while they pass, they slip away across the universe
Pools of sorrow, waves of joy are drifting through my opened mind,
Possessing and caressing me.
Jai guru de va om.

Suddenly a rush of thoughts come and I can't get 'em to you fast enough.
They come and go, written in paper or impatiently hoping to be fed to feed, like a mental menu.
I've got them, for you. I've captured them, only for you and I'm sending them... for you too. Across the Universe.
Jai guru de va om.

I've got you a ticket to Mars. The red planet. Bloody red, from the madness of our world into an aberration in our minds with rouge. Dripping wine from blood vessels and getting our cheeks red from the cold icy winter.

I've got you a metaphor of May, where time and space collapse and autumn becomes a rush of wind through your skin and Christmas becomes a rush of saudades through your mind.

I've got you a portrait of Murpheous, because I dreamed a dream of fairytales melting in a glass full of cachaça and running like 40% alcohol and 60% memories at the deepest and most precious places our mind hides from us.

I've got you a Rhapsody in fall. Wrapped up in maple leaves, you know...The ones from the season. Only Yellows, reds and oranges. I've got you the silence of the city when it pauses and the rain of an everlasting storm when it charms us with a ancient sonata.

I've got you a world of fragile images, a tourniquet in a darkroom where only filmnoirs are developedd and a thousand rendez vous take place.Art i fotografies en blanc i negre.

I've got you half a million lectures and literatures. All in cardboard, in between shadows of the mountains we admired and the head ache of the second or third bad written Alcaseltzer.

It's on it's way... Across the Universe.
I expect you to get it. I demand you to seek it.
I want you to go for it.
Bah. Fuck it. It's up to you.

Now playing: White Dovo (Mehdi)- Lullaby (Cocteau Twins)- Painted Black (The Rolling Stones) Best served with: the mail man.

.:Lo wrote this at: 7:34 PM:.