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you know it's a bad sign when the street lights are as sharp as a tungsten flash at eleven-thirty in the morning... so gunmetal grey is everything in sight. street-sky-people... by some strange turn of the wheel, all of the cars in the lot were either black or silver or some other unobtrusive hue. mono. tone. today, colour takes a holiday. the primary sound was white noise... unchanged from the constant rush of the furnace breathing through the ductwork, or, stepping onto the chilled balcony, the plummeting cry of the avalanche of raindrops hurling themselves to the pavement below. i am not Mr. Sunshine before the first cup of coffee hits bottom as my day begins. this has been well established. i was fully expecting a proper drenching when i'd finally buttoned down all of my hostel-type chores. instead, no sooner had i stepped on concrete, down fell the first fat flakes... clumps of frozen geometry in the same intensity as the rain it replaced, ghosting the backdrop of trees to a mere suggestion. kinda like those packs of skydivers that link legs and arms on the way down, in an icy mandala. ironically, the sun appeared no sooner had i punched the clock for my afternoon incarceration. wouldn't ya know? though i'm not feeling panicky about getting the last gifts for the holiday securely in hand, it is getting close to crunch time... and the weather has been a complete beast. considering that i prefer to give little things to friends as the year goes by, this whole gotta-buy-because-the-TV-tells-us-so crap has been fucking with my inspiration. not once have i gotten a whiff of the real "reason for the season." considering this hell-bent on world domination and the "fuck-you-i'm-educated-born-again-and-priviledged" attitude that seems so de rigeur of late, what was that "reason," again? screw it. in a matter of hours, this work week will be over. tomorrow, MoscowBallet: RussianGirls in skimpy clothing. Friday... back to the radio, for the first time in more than a month. and whatever comes next. i'm anticipating that part of early Christmas day, again... 'bout three in the morning, when that same silence like when snow falls blanket everything. and sanity returns, for a brief moment. |
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