Thursday, March 12, 2009
Final Collaborative Piece
This quarter, we have been working with notions of text, the creation of a page that hopes to offer an experience of an experience of perception. We have used a series of basic tools, from concepts of creaturely life and the crypt, to prompts related to memory, absence, tracing and sound. We considered the translation of our blog-pieces into a unified visual and audio video presentation of our thoughts on the relationship of the here-and-now and writing. We decided to incorporate ideas from various ETP’s and findings triggered by the prompts used in class for the final presentation.
Our final piece is an amalgamation of the course ideas and ETP’s including memory, sound, sight, text, and imagery. It works heavily with the idea of audio and visual manipulation. The basic premise for our video presentation is confusion with the attempt to have control of the viewers and/or listeners.
Our presentation will require class participation, within the allotted time of twenty minutes. The video presentation is approximately four minutes long taken from hours of footage that has been edited to fit our assigned constraints. We are presenting a video performance created from ideas in our blog, my sparks of creativity and the assigned course readings. Through images and written text, we compiled the visual and audio for the film. The entire presentation will include the viewing and listening of the film along with post film instructions, in which the participants must follow. These include, a collaborative piece making process, reading and listening to spoken observations, and sitting in silence.
All four members of our team will act as controllers of the class participation. We have divided the class into four different groups. Each group has specific restraints that have been typed up and placed in front of each individual member of the group.
One group, for example, consists of a non-blindfolded student facing towards the windows. The student will be instructed to listen to the film in silence and can only write and/or draw observations from the beginning of the film until the end. He/she cannot write once the film has ended.
Another student will be instructed to also face towards the window and will not be blindfolded. He/she must also listen to the file in silence, but can only write and/or draw their observations once the film has ended. This student will be given one minute to record their thoughts on paper.
Each student has his or her own specific instructions. The controllers will not answer questions during the presentation. The common constraints for all participants are: 1. Do not write your name at the top of your work, 2. Do not ask questions, 3. Do not ask for answers, their will be no disclaimer, 4. Do as you are told, 5. Sit and watch the whole film in silence, 6. Write and/or draw your observations, and 7. When instructed complete the post film instructions.
The presentation will end with the participants carrying out the post film instructions. One group will start to create their collaborative piece, which will be stuck to the wall as a visual for all participants, while the other two groups listen to the poet or watch the collaboration process. Each group will switch tasks after about five minutes until every group completed each task. The poet reader is the only group that reads out loud.
Our final piece works with memory and false memory, which subverts conventional messages of communication used through techniques that we read within the course readings. For example, in Wittgenstein’s Mistress, we gathered the idea of accidents and mistakes in terms of language and representation. The heart of our video is a traumatic event that we consistently distract from. We did this in order to create a sense of suspense; the story is told, but never revealed. This relates to the Cleaning House reading in which we try to work prose into verse.
In our video presentation we create a piece of work in which meaning is ambiguous. We do not given a narrative form of work with an easily digestible beginning, middle, and end with well developed characters. In respect to Pedro Paramo, we utilize a narrative form in which the characters are multi-voiced since there are many characters with many speakers. In our video, we utilize representations of representations, which has an aesthetic of the undead in relation to Juan Rulfo’s work.
Overall, our presentation gives a sense of melancholy and anxiety which relates to the notion of the Creaturely Life. Because of the way in which we translated our blog into this film, the film acts as a transcription of the blog, connecting back to Ettinger. Our presentation also incorporates aspects of both the Monkey’s Mask (the use of poetry and verse) and Dictee (combining images and text). We frequently make mistakes that subvert the natural way to free associate text and verse and switch it around in order to challenge conventional modes of representation on language.
In regards to the performance piece that takes place post film production, we are instigating an environment in which we intend to challenge our fellow students to rebel against the conventional structures of language and communication. By means of exaggeration (exaggerating restrictions of tradition) we force the participants into an uncomfortable place, in which the norm is challenged. By providing constraints, including the way each student may watch the actual film, we attempt to control how they sit, hear, write, and essentially exist within the space of the room. If this process does not succeed in the students revolting against our imposed constraints, this will only further demonstrate the extent to which normalization permeates our society and the creative process. We create structures of overt oppressive power, to the point that it is almost comical. The students have the choice to follow or rebel against the instructions without penalty, but will not be informed of this freedom.
Our final piece is an amalgamation of the course ideas and ETP’s including memory, sound, sight, text, and imagery. It works heavily with the idea of audio and visual manipulation. The basic premise for our video presentation is confusion with the attempt to have control of the viewers and/or listeners.
Our presentation will require class participation, within the allotted time of twenty minutes. The video presentation is approximately four minutes long taken from hours of footage that has been edited to fit our assigned constraints. We are presenting a video performance created from ideas in our blog, my sparks of creativity and the assigned course readings. Through images and written text, we compiled the visual and audio for the film. The entire presentation will include the viewing and listening of the film along with post film instructions, in which the participants must follow. These include, a collaborative piece making process, reading and listening to spoken observations, and sitting in silence.
All four members of our team will act as controllers of the class participation. We have divided the class into four different groups. Each group has specific restraints that have been typed up and placed in front of each individual member of the group.
One group, for example, consists of a non-blindfolded student facing towards the windows. The student will be instructed to listen to the film in silence and can only write and/or draw observations from the beginning of the film until the end. He/she cannot write once the film has ended.
Another student will be instructed to also face towards the window and will not be blindfolded. He/she must also listen to the file in silence, but can only write and/or draw their observations once the film has ended. This student will be given one minute to record their thoughts on paper.
Each student has his or her own specific instructions. The controllers will not answer questions during the presentation. The common constraints for all participants are: 1. Do not write your name at the top of your work, 2. Do not ask questions, 3. Do not ask for answers, their will be no disclaimer, 4. Do as you are told, 5. Sit and watch the whole film in silence, 6. Write and/or draw your observations, and 7. When instructed complete the post film instructions.
The presentation will end with the participants carrying out the post film instructions. One group will start to create their collaborative piece, which will be stuck to the wall as a visual for all participants, while the other two groups listen to the poet or watch the collaboration process. Each group will switch tasks after about five minutes until every group completed each task. The poet reader is the only group that reads out loud.
Our final piece works with memory and false memory, which subverts conventional messages of communication used through techniques that we read within the course readings. For example, in Wittgenstein’s Mistress, we gathered the idea of accidents and mistakes in terms of language and representation. The heart of our video is a traumatic event that we consistently distract from. We did this in order to create a sense of suspense; the story is told, but never revealed. This relates to the Cleaning House reading in which we try to work prose into verse.
In our video presentation we create a piece of work in which meaning is ambiguous. We do not given a narrative form of work with an easily digestible beginning, middle, and end with well developed characters. In respect to Pedro Paramo, we utilize a narrative form in which the characters are multi-voiced since there are many characters with many speakers. In our video, we utilize representations of representations, which has an aesthetic of the undead in relation to Juan Rulfo’s work.
Overall, our presentation gives a sense of melancholy and anxiety which relates to the notion of the Creaturely Life. Because of the way in which we translated our blog into this film, the film acts as a transcription of the blog, connecting back to Ettinger. Our presentation also incorporates aspects of both the Monkey’s Mask (the use of poetry and verse) and Dictee (combining images and text). We frequently make mistakes that subvert the natural way to free associate text and verse and switch it around in order to challenge conventional modes of representation on language.
In regards to the performance piece that takes place post film production, we are instigating an environment in which we intend to challenge our fellow students to rebel against the conventional structures of language and communication. By means of exaggeration (exaggerating restrictions of tradition) we force the participants into an uncomfortable place, in which the norm is challenged. By providing constraints, including the way each student may watch the actual film, we attempt to control how they sit, hear, write, and essentially exist within the space of the room. If this process does not succeed in the students revolting against our imposed constraints, this will only further demonstrate the extent to which normalization permeates our society and the creative process. We create structures of overt oppressive power, to the point that it is almost comical. The students have the choice to follow or rebel against the instructions without penalty, but will not be informed of this freedom.
Monday, March 9, 2009
READ!
You guys should definitely consider giving this a read it's pretty helpful in summing up some of Santner's ideas...
http://www.creaturely.org/
http://www.creaturely.org/
Thursday, February 26, 2009
abeepbopbopbop
yo?yo?yo?yo?
yawns zoom
bobs footsteps dancing
taps on the shoulder
spinnin' swingin' jazzy
explosion woooooooo!hoow!ooow
beepbeepboombooop beebopbop, beebopbop beebopbop
beepbeepboombooop beebopbop, beebopbop beebopbop
engines going
intensity
room is spinning
You switch to another song right in the middle of another one.
smoke rings of my mind
silent frame to contain
Takeoff.
MA CHICA BWAAAY
yawns zoom
bobs footsteps dancing
taps on the shoulder
spinnin' swingin' jazzy
explosion woooooooo!hoow!ooow
beepbeepboombooop beebopbop, beebopbop beebopbop
beepbeepboombooop beebopbop, beebopbop beebopbop
engines going
intensity
room is spinning
You switch to another song right in the middle of another one.
smoke rings of my mind
silent frame to contain
Takeoff.
MA CHICA BWAAAY
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Boy meets Girl
não entendo he said
nee-o, she said no, he said neeao,
no comprendo she said
no understand I
Accompaniment
ma chica bwwaaay, MA CHICA BWAAAY, ma chica bwwaaay, MA CHICA BWAAAY
crashcrashtsstsshhatsshtsshoobitabitabeetabeetabeep
crashcrashtsstsshhatsshtsshoobitabitabeetabeetabeep
smackclapclaphuphup
ey!ey!ey!ey!ey!ey!ey!ey!ey!ey!ey!
beepbeepboombooop beebopbop, beebopbop beebopbop
beepbeepboombooop beebopbop, beebopbop beebopbop
beepbeepboombooop beebopbop, beebopbop beebopbop
bumbuhbum bumthrumthrum bumbuhbum bumthrumthrum bumbuhbum bumthrumthrum bumbuhbum bumthrumthrum bumbuhbum bumthrumthrum bumbuhbum bumthrumthrum bumbuhbum bumthrumthrum bumbuhbum bumthrumthrum bumbuhbum bumthrumthrum bumbuhbum bumthrumthrum bumbuhbum bumthrumthrum bumbuhbum bumthrumthrum
“I can’t hear you / I caahrn’t hee-er yoooou”
– but though at the time wasn’t it was more like something different?
Scripts
UP and down
down and UP
UP and down
down and UP
All tongue too soon abrupt.
I try to make you taste my own bodies roll, the tumbling bellow of grinding bone, corroding sours swishing, the same as in your hand that you swallow with no lips, gulp with no lips, only tongue slushing in its own slosh or mine, trying to make hear the heave as you stare at the slop droplet that sticks to the finger wet, like sticky dough swilled with thunderous taps and I might for you, if we’d only hear right here
crashcrashtsstsshhatsshtsshoobitabitabeetabeetabeep
crashcrashtsstsshhatsshtsshoobitabitabeetabeetabeep
The squawk of birds
ma chica bwwaaay, MA CHICA BWAAAY, ma chica bwwaaay, MA CHICA BWAAAY
No the one’s that sparkle from paradise end
ey!ey!ey!ey!ey!ey!ey!ey!ey!ey!ey!
Do they meant freedom from whips
If our ears were to bloom, would they bleed the soaring wings?
If you bite out my drum will I gush
não entendo he said
nee-o, she said no, he said neeao,
no comprendo she said
no understand I
Accompaniment
ma chica bwwaaay, MA CHICA BWAAAY, ma chica bwwaaay, MA CHICA BWAAAY
crashcrashtsstsshhatsshtsshoobitabitabeetabeetabeep
abeepbopbopbop
yo?yo?yo?yo?
crashcrashtsstsshhatsshtsshoobitabitabeetabeetabeepcrashcrashtsstsshhatsshtsshoobitabitabeetabeetabeep
smackclapclaphuphup
ey!ey!ey!ey!ey!ey!ey!ey!ey!ey!ey!
beepbeepboombooop beebopbop, beebopbop beebopbop
beepbeepboombooop beebopbop, beebopbop beebopbop
woooooooo!hoow!ooow
!ow!o!wow
abeepbopbopbop
beepbeepboombooop beebopbop, beebopbop beebopbop
bumbuhbum bumthrumthrum bumbuhbum bumthrumthrum bumbuhbum bumthrumthrum bumbuhbum bumthrumthrum bumbuhbum bumthrumthrum bumbuhbum bumthrumthrum bumbuhbum bumthrumthrum bumbuhbum bumthrumthrum bumbuhbum bumthrumthrum bumbuhbum bumthrumthrum bumbuhbum bumthrumthrum bumbuhbum bumthrumthrum
“I can’t hear you / I caahrn’t hee-er yoooou”
(Acknowledgements
whispers half-licking over downy hairs
feathers of sweat dripping to death ears
the squelch of flesh that slides
and all those others that drowned in the madding crowd
whispers half-licking over downy hairs
feathers of sweat dripping to death ears
the squelch of flesh that slides
and all those others that drowned in the madding crowd
thank you for a silent frame to contain
– but though at the time wasn’t it was more like something different?
Scripts
UP and down
down and UP
UP and down
down and UP
what about the side?
the lips?
All tongue too soon abrupt.
I try to make you taste my own bodies roll, the tumbling bellow of grinding bone, corroding sours swishing, the same as in your hand that you swallow with no lips, gulp with no lips, only tongue slushing in its own slosh or mine, trying to make hear the heave as you stare at the slop droplet that sticks to the finger wet, like sticky dough swilled with thunderous taps and I might for you, if we’d only hear right here
crashcrashtsstsshhatsshtsshoobitabitabeetabeetabeep
crashcrashtsstsshhatsshtsshoobitabitabeetabeetabeep
The squawk of birds
ma chica bwwaaay, MA CHICA BWAAAY, ma chica bwwaaay, MA CHICA BWAAAY
No the one’s that sparkle from paradise end
yo?yo?yo?yo?
Could we have heard them in an ancient new placeey!ey!ey!ey!ey!ey!ey!ey!ey!ey!ey!
Do they meant freedom from whips
woooooooo!hoow!ooow
From clotted bloodsweat? !ow!o!wow
If our ears were to bloom, would they bleed the soaring wings?
If you bite out my drum will I gush
Waiting for the Bus
I sat there today, waiting for the bus
cars zoomed by
expensive cars
sports cars
small cars
old cars
people talking on their cellphones as if it wasn't illegal
laughing
loud music blasting from the radio
the owner bobs his head in enjoyment
I watch as they pass me by, waiting for the bus
A group of giggling girls walk to the cove
"it is such a nice day, I am so excited you guys."
There is a cool breeze
Leafs rustle all around me
Waiting for the bus, I hear the revving of engines
the changing of gears
They need to get there and they need to get there fast
Still waiting for the bus, I hear the birds chirping
where are they?
somewhere in the trees
the trees whose leaves rustle in the wind
I look at the time as I wait for the bus
A girl sits next to me
I hear the clicking of buttons as she sends out massive amounts of text messages
Another man, in his car, talking on the phone
While waiting for the bus, some surfers pass me by
I hear the click clack of their flip-flops on the ground
a bit squishy
must be wet
As I wait for the bus, I hear the bus
It's nowhere in sight but it makes its presence known
loudest engine you ever heard
as if it was about to break down
black smoke rises in the air
its getting closer
I wait for the bus to stop
It comes to a screeching halt about 10 feet away from us
we look for our student ID's
zip up our purses and walk ahead
The door slams behind me
and I am inundated with
blasting ipods, for all of us to enjoy
phone conversations in english and spanish
some soft as a whisper, others loud as the music blasting from the ipods
the repeated clicking of buttons for text messages
coughing
children screaming and crying
the bus driver announcing the stops
sighs
yawns
I wait to get off the bus and when I do
the ocean roars in front of me
the speed and rhythm of the waves
the calmness after they have left
seagulls cawing in the sky
circling their prey
babies laugh and mothers scold
splash of the water on my feet
there are cellphones here
and ipods
and loud music
but nature drowns it out
this is her territory
I enjoy her presence
A break from the technology of everyday life
Again, I wait for the bus
cars zoom by
expensive cars
sports cars
small cars
old cars
people talking on their cellphones as if it wasn't illegal
laughing
loud music blasting from the radio
the owner bobs her head in enjoyment
cars zoomed by
expensive cars
sports cars
small cars
old cars
people talking on their cellphones as if it wasn't illegal
laughing
loud music blasting from the radio
the owner bobs his head in enjoyment
I watch as they pass me by, waiting for the bus
A group of giggling girls walk to the cove
"it is such a nice day, I am so excited you guys."
There is a cool breeze
Leafs rustle all around me
Waiting for the bus, I hear the revving of engines
the changing of gears
They need to get there and they need to get there fast
Still waiting for the bus, I hear the birds chirping
where are they?
somewhere in the trees
the trees whose leaves rustle in the wind
I look at the time as I wait for the bus
A girl sits next to me
I hear the clicking of buttons as she sends out massive amounts of text messages
Another man, in his car, talking on the phone
While waiting for the bus, some surfers pass me by
I hear the click clack of their flip-flops on the ground
a bit squishy
must be wet
As I wait for the bus, I hear the bus
It's nowhere in sight but it makes its presence known
loudest engine you ever heard
as if it was about to break down
black smoke rises in the air
its getting closer
I wait for the bus to stop
It comes to a screeching halt about 10 feet away from us
we look for our student ID's
zip up our purses and walk ahead
The door slams behind me
and I am inundated with
blasting ipods, for all of us to enjoy
phone conversations in english and spanish
some soft as a whisper, others loud as the music blasting from the ipods
the repeated clicking of buttons for text messages
coughing
children screaming and crying
the bus driver announcing the stops
sighs
yawns
I wait to get off the bus and when I do
the ocean roars in front of me
the speed and rhythm of the waves
the calmness after they have left
seagulls cawing in the sky
circling their prey
babies laugh and mothers scold
splash of the water on my feet
there are cellphones here
and ipods
and loud music
but nature drowns it out
this is her territory
I enjoy her presence
A break from the technology of everyday life
Again, I wait for the bus
cars zoom by
expensive cars
sports cars
small cars
old cars
people talking on their cellphones as if it wasn't illegal
laughing
loud music blasting from the radio
the owner bobs her head in enjoyment
on my way home
waiting
i wait for the shuttle
surrounded by cars,
but I can't hear any engines going
surrounded by people,
but I can't hear a word their saying
they move their lips,
but nothing
i can't hear a thing
Hey ! Mr Tambourine Man, play a song for me
I'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to
Hey ! Mr Tambourine Man, play a song for me
In the jingle jangle morning I'll come followin' you.
Though I know that evenin's empire has returned into sand
Vanished from my hand
Left me blindly here to stand but still not sleeping
My weariness amazes me, I'm branded on my feet
I have no one to meet
And the ancient empty street's too dead for dreaming.
the shuttle stops in front of me,
i'm the first in line
the door opens
i believe he said something,
he looked straight at me
and he moved his lips
him, sitting behind the wheel,
wearing a navy blue sweatshirt
Hey ! Mr Tambourine Man, play a song for me
I'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to
Hey ! Mr Tambourine Man, play a song for me
In the jingle jangle morning I'll come followin' you.
i make my way to the back of the shuttle,
i take a seat
and fix my eyes on the people seating next to me
footsteps
i should hear footsteps,
but i don't
i don't hear people's shoes hit the rubber floor
Take me on a trip upon your magic swirlin' ship
My senses have been stripped, my hands can't feel to grip
My toes too numb to step, wait only for my boot heels
To be wanderin'
I'm ready to go anywhere, I'm ready for to fade
Into my own parade, cast your dancing spell my way
I promise to go under it.
I see you sitting in front of me,
but I can't hear your breathing,
the shuttle starts moving
the wheels are moving underneath me,
but i can't hear them,
i know that i am moving because i can see the landscape change
i see trees where there should be bushes,
and bushes where there should be buildings
wait
somebody taps me on the shoulder,
what are they saying?
i couldn't hear him
Hey ! Mr Tambourine Man, play a song for me
I'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to
Hey ! Mr Tambourine Man, play a song for me
In the jingle jangle morning I'll come followin' you.
he gestures "pull the cord"
okay
i pull the cord
a smile
if i keep still,
i can hear myself breathing
i can hear inside of me,
but i can't hear outside of me
i hear myself,
i can't hear you
i hear myself
i hear myself,
but i see you
i see you smiling
and having a conversation
i see you wearing sunglasses
even when the sun is not out
i see you clutching your book bag
every time the bus stops a little too abruptly
what is it with you,
why are you looking at your shoes,
look up
look up
surrounded by people,
and i can't hear a thing
what does it sound like to be surrounded by people
it should be loud
words should be intertwining and mixing together
but nothing
Though you might hear laughin', spinnin' swingin' madly across the sun
It's not aimed at anyone, it's just escapin' on the run
And but for the sky there are no fences facin'
And if you hear vague traces of skippin' reels of rhyme
To your tambourine in time, it's just a ragged clown behind
I wouldn't pay it any mind, it's just a shadow you're
Seein' that he's chasing.
Hey ! Mr Tambourine Man, play a song for me
I'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to
Hey ! Mr Tambourine Man, play a song for me
In the jingle jangle morning I'll come followin' you.
the shuttle stops
we all file into a single line
and exit the shuttle
so uniform
so orderly
even when we try not to be
i step out
and
the parking lot is a bit scary sometimes
i like not being able to hear the silence
silence can get scary often
twenty steps can feel so long
is there somebody lurking behind me
the light is an opaque orange,
it leads to the street
i am glad i can't hear a thing,
i can see the bushes rustling,
but i'm afraid to hear them
i expect something terrible to jump out
i don't want to hear the leaves rustling in the wind,
i rather listen to the sound in my ear
Then take me disappearin' through the smoke rings of my mind
Down the foggy ruins of time, far past the frozen leaves
The haunted, frightened trees, out to the windy beach
Far from the twisted reach of crazy sorrow
Yes, to dance beneath the diamond sky with one hand waving free
Silhouetted by the sea, circled by the circus sands
With all memory and fate driven deep beneath the waves
Let me forget about today until tomorrow.
Hey ! Mr Tambourine Man, play a song for me
I'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to
Hey ! Mr Tambourine Man, play a song for me
In the jingle jangle morning I'll come followin' you.
concentrate on the music,
forget your surroundings
you are almost home
i open the front door,
it smells like rats and wet wood,
home sweet home.
i wait for the shuttle
surrounded by cars,
but I can't hear any engines going
surrounded by people,
but I can't hear a word their saying
they move their lips,
but nothing
i can't hear a thing
Hey ! Mr Tambourine Man, play a song for me
I'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to
Hey ! Mr Tambourine Man, play a song for me
In the jingle jangle morning I'll come followin' you.
Though I know that evenin's empire has returned into sand
Vanished from my hand
Left me blindly here to stand but still not sleeping
My weariness amazes me, I'm branded on my feet
I have no one to meet
And the ancient empty street's too dead for dreaming.
the shuttle stops in front of me,
i'm the first in line
the door opens
i believe he said something,
he looked straight at me
and he moved his lips
him, sitting behind the wheel,
wearing a navy blue sweatshirt
Hey ! Mr Tambourine Man, play a song for me
I'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to
Hey ! Mr Tambourine Man, play a song for me
In the jingle jangle morning I'll come followin' you.
i make my way to the back of the shuttle,
i take a seat
and fix my eyes on the people seating next to me
footsteps
i should hear footsteps,
but i don't
i don't hear people's shoes hit the rubber floor
Take me on a trip upon your magic swirlin' ship
My senses have been stripped, my hands can't feel to grip
My toes too numb to step, wait only for my boot heels
To be wanderin'
I'm ready to go anywhere, I'm ready for to fade
Into my own parade, cast your dancing spell my way
I promise to go under it.
I see you sitting in front of me,
but I can't hear your breathing,
the shuttle starts moving
the wheels are moving underneath me,
but i can't hear them,
i know that i am moving because i can see the landscape change
i see trees where there should be bushes,
and bushes where there should be buildings
wait
somebody taps me on the shoulder,
what are they saying?
i couldn't hear him
Hey ! Mr Tambourine Man, play a song for me
I'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to
Hey ! Mr Tambourine Man, play a song for me
In the jingle jangle morning I'll come followin' you.
he gestures "pull the cord"
okay
i pull the cord
a smile
if i keep still,
i can hear myself breathing
i can hear inside of me,
but i can't hear outside of me
i hear myself,
i can't hear you
i hear myself
i hear myself,
but i see you
i see you smiling
and having a conversation
i see you wearing sunglasses
even when the sun is not out
i see you clutching your book bag
every time the bus stops a little too abruptly
what is it with you,
why are you looking at your shoes,
look up
look up
surrounded by people,
and i can't hear a thing
what does it sound like to be surrounded by people
it should be loud
words should be intertwining and mixing together
but nothing
Though you might hear laughin', spinnin' swingin' madly across the sun
It's not aimed at anyone, it's just escapin' on the run
And but for the sky there are no fences facin'
And if you hear vague traces of skippin' reels of rhyme
To your tambourine in time, it's just a ragged clown behind
I wouldn't pay it any mind, it's just a shadow you're
Seein' that he's chasing.
Hey ! Mr Tambourine Man, play a song for me
I'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to
Hey ! Mr Tambourine Man, play a song for me
In the jingle jangle morning I'll come followin' you.
the shuttle stops
we all file into a single line
and exit the shuttle
so uniform
so orderly
even when we try not to be
i step out
and
the parking lot is a bit scary sometimes
i like not being able to hear the silence
silence can get scary often
twenty steps can feel so long
is there somebody lurking behind me
the light is an opaque orange,
it leads to the street
i am glad i can't hear a thing,
i can see the bushes rustling,
but i'm afraid to hear them
i expect something terrible to jump out
i don't want to hear the leaves rustling in the wind,
i rather listen to the sound in my ear
Then take me disappearin' through the smoke rings of my mind
Down the foggy ruins of time, far past the frozen leaves
The haunted, frightened trees, out to the windy beach
Far from the twisted reach of crazy sorrow
Yes, to dance beneath the diamond sky with one hand waving free
Silhouetted by the sea, circled by the circus sands
With all memory and fate driven deep beneath the waves
Let me forget about today until tomorrow.
Hey ! Mr Tambourine Man, play a song for me
I'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to
Hey ! Mr Tambourine Man, play a song for me
In the jingle jangle morning I'll come followin' you.
concentrate on the music,
forget your surroundings
you are almost home
i open the front door,
it smells like rats and wet wood,
home sweet home.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)