Thursday, March 17, 2011

Hey You On The Cliff (looking all sad and such)

Looking off into the landscape I remember how the names of the women I loved but never loved me back. I was swallowing myself in sadness, and just below the cliff's edge I could see my best friend, in a shack with a girl, I think I kinda liked her. Every once in a while, KC, the best friend in this story, would yell at me, not in a HEY YOU WHAT ARE YOU DOING way, but a how are you doing up there, are you ok way? The girl would also inquire, with more sincerity to her question. I said I was fine, and I'd continue to look off. The hills beyond the one we were on were the same, there was lots of yellowish white sand, with shrubs and pine tree, sparcely placed by nature, this was the desert. I could see rain clouds form from miles away from this height, and I remember just weeks before I learned what rain fall looks from a far, it looks like a stringy mist with like milk being poured into a water sink. I loved the skies of the desert, I loved this place, the rock of mountains, the pines, the ghost stories, and the atmosphere. The rain began to fall, and my hair gel started to dissolve. I looked up to the sky and put my tongue out, it was cool in the most refreshing of ways. The couple below seemed to intensify their romance, rain is becomes sexy when you're close to someone of lust.
In my mind, a song plays endlessly in moments like this. The song is one but many, without having different titles, it is a song that is a piece of one song by one artist, and another piece for this song from this artist. Take all those pieces and bits and the one song is formed. When listening to these songs, those parts give me goose pimples, I feel lost, in a good way, finding myself in a dream like consciousness. I see the world around me but I am not here. I speak when spoken to, I react with conditioned response, but am I really there, I am very much not.
It has been thirteen years since I last sat at the cliff, I couldn't find you the exact place, perhaps after spending a few days in the town I lived in during the time, but I could illustrate its exactness to a dime. Also I cannot describe you the feelings that place holds over me, how there is a strange and beautiful feeling that is involve with places such as that of New Mexico. All I know is I am haunted, entrapped, and enchanted. My endless obsession is all I have for you now, please bare with it.

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