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how do you make a gif at gickr.com Monsters in the Parasol
The post below is synchronistic because I literally just wrote this poem. It’s called “If I Forget”. Enjoy :)
Why I Write So Many Love Songs (Please reblog this, I want people to know!)
Someone recently asked me why I write so many love songs. Well, here’s my answer to you, and to everyone:
The love songs from my childhood got it all wrong. Mislead me to believe that love is something pure, one hundred percent angelic, all white linens and red lipstick and endless adoration. And how could I argue? It’s so hard to fight those fucking sentimental, jaded lyrics when Frank Sinatra is crooning them into your ear, late at night with the heat coming in vast waves through your open window, the moon bright enough to fill your room with pale blue light, glimmering off the hardwood floors.
I spent so damn long looking for that feeling, those songs, and I wasted so much time doing so, I can make a list of past issues overlooked. My Preoccupation with this quest to find an unattainable emotion led me to the very bottom of everything. And I finally gave up. Threw out my Sinatra CDs, my Dean Martin vinyl and relinquished myself to the universe. I stopped trying, and right at that moment, right as I gave up this life-long journey to find “love” as I believed it to be, I found something better.
I found her.
And I saw that the songs were all wrong. Love will never be clear-cut, or starry-eyed idealism. Love can’t be defined through synecdoche—it doesn’t become clear when viewed through only one of its lenses. It can’t be explained by one of its parts. Love isn’t denotation.
The songs were wrong because love is every moment spent in love, the good and the bad: the dances at midnight beneath the stars and the overdoses, the hours spent beneath too many blankets and the 5 AM panicked phone calls, slurred speech of reassurance and a sick girl passing out on new years, breakfast in the mornings and tense anger—only to be flattened by unerring passion. Love is sex and blood and sweat and tears and everything collated into one tiny word. Ultimately, love is a trillion particles of matter, all amassing their miniscule, fractional, insignificant selves to form something so overwhelming, so beautiful and terrifying, that no one will ever have any hope of comprehending it.
So why do I write so many love songs? Because each one is a moment. I’m slowly, ever so slowly, painting a broader picture. This is my life’s work. This is my purpose here, with her, on this earth, in this vast, incomprehensible universe. And I will never be done. Because love is—ultimately—infinite. I’ll die, and she’ll die, but the love we have for each other? That will always carry on and on and on, until the very fabric of time unravels beneath it. As long as these songs have been made, have been played, have been created, then that love will still exist, long after we’re gone, long after our bones have turned to dust, long after our bodies have returned to the dirt, long after our souls have drifted onwards, as one.
(Source: lesprisenpati)
new poem, for Juli, because I love her, and because I can’t really explain how I feel about her accurately, so I try to with poetry and songs but I just end up sounding retarded.
