Monday, October 16, 2006

listening

to the sounds of 'En Attendant Coustau' by JM Jarre is like swimming with the dolphins in 'Big Blue'; like listening to the drops in a cavern somewhere deep inside the bowels of earth; like touching a stone covered in moss, early in the morning. Music is like heave raindrops, going slowly down the hairy tree bark. Feels like it washes down me, and my legs and hands and head and every other part of my body is twice as heavy, even though in theory all of that is floating in water. Water is black and all I can see is a sun, reflecting gloomily on the surface. But whenever I want to touch it, it escapes... I can feel the water moving, and I let myself carry me along with the flow. I'm on my back and I can see the black sky, full of stars. Twinking to me, they show the way, changing constellations, telling a story full of secrets. When I understand them, I close my eyes and listen how they talk to each other. The flow is touching my ears, hair, lips, like a thousand fingers, fondling. I'm lost and I know that - and still I let myself get carried away, God knows where and when - an hour? a day? a month? I'm waiting... waiting... wai... w..

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