video game music
and pondering strange dreams
and trying to hold the countdown
to the hour after next
still
so i can have some more chill morning time
with my kip before they need to leave
again [this time into the city]
and i need to go upstairs
and talk about my
~feelings~
[ugh]
it’s
astounding
how much joy i get from video game music
and how little joy i get
from actual video games
what
in the world
is that all about?
interesting
without music
my brain only half focuses
like it does
with music with words
why does my focus only work on such
strict, specific auditory inputs?
i love my kip’s little head nods
of a great beat —
the impulse to dance
while sitting and programming at the table —
there’s only so much you can move,
so kip moves
their head in a nod
as if to say
“yes
yes
yes
this beat
is
yes”
i wish
my mind were filled
with brasshouse tunes, instead of
the self-deprecating
barely-humor
closer-to-hatred
perfectionism
that it usually is
filled with
jazzy soundtracks
to lull my brain into awakeness —
to hold my body close
and warm it with the heat
of brass and dancing bodies
in that way that only jazz can
in that way that i only want jazz to
hold me
wake me
warn me of the world
and hold me when the world is too much
and let me know exactly what that too much is
so i can do something
to change it
[when i am
awake]
the soundtrack of our morning
includes:
skipped songs on a playlist
whenever they have words to them,
the soft stomps of a puppy
forcing me to play with her
and whatever toy she brings me,
the tippity taps of fingers on keys
from my poetry
and kip’s programming,
and the cat
somewhere
somewhere
in this building.
jazzy morning
until i get my head on straight
until i can see the light come in
through the window
onto my screen
into my eyes
and i can be fully awake
for this day
coming by
math jazz
leaves your mind
expecting
exactly
what it
isn’t
~~~
i’ve written so much
of
nothing this morning
and
i can’t seem to stop
nor
do i feel satisfied with anything i’ve done
so
i guess i’ll keep writing and writing and writing
until
i feel some sort of closer closure, somewhere.
~~~
do i not want to review my older works because i think they’ll be worse,
or do i not want to delve deep because i know myself and my tendency
to get all wrapped up, bundled in the blanket of the past, wondering
what if what if what if, until i find myself unable to experience the
presence of the
present
moment
?
vibing with the music
hoping to have something to speak of
something of which to write
to spite
the depression coming quite
quite
quite
quickly
kipventures 