ypsilanti's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I LOVE BELLE! it seems like a series of dreams, or postcards made out of moments waiting to happen. parts of a life held in suspension somewhere, capsules without words, even when there's talking and instructions, i can only understand the dancing particles of fields of sunflowers, worn polaroid pictures, the symphony of crickets and the most beautiful silent wind whispering the truth into a shared second of understanding. thank you for a most beautiful series of unrecognizable fragments of hidden miracles. damn. again comes the rising of the sun. you leave for school tommorow, and it was really good to see you before your adventure into another michigan reality takes shape. continue, ypsi pride forever, like you could escape it if you wanted to. when i woke up this morning i was in a hotel, and it was too early to be awake, and i could feel my legs quake on the way to the elevator, with all the weight of the past 24 years, but more so the nameless understanding of the next howevermany to come. as the doors dinged and slid open for the ground floor, and after pouring a plastic cup of continetal breakfast cranberry juice, i walked into the clean and open air and to my car and i realized again that my life was the way it was because i was born an artist. i talked to one of my favorite artists about it later on in the night, and she understood exactly what i meant. i'm an artist. we are artists. our lives will never be the same, our days change clocks into caskets and back from sold graves into playgrounds. we write our names in the fire that comes from our lungs, but we only write it small enough so we can understand the characters and someday feel the ashes. or we write our diaries in seeds that someday the words that string together our histories will bloom taller than we stand. taller than a field of sunflowers. impossible without the smallest kernel. true love always, for real. you and i talked on the instant wire machines. don't ever stop. but also, don't you ever stop long enough to start? think about the realities of the world you're making and everyone in it who loves you so much. you rule. stop fucking around and believe!! Nobakazu Takamura rules. Wolf Eyes rules. Ypsilanti Records Rules. Neil Young Rules. Retsin Rules. Saturday Looks Good To Me Rules. Control Panel Rules. Heart&Hand Rules. BELLE RULES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Ypsichic Rules!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Sophie Rules. As Wave Follows Wave Rules. there is grace in the silence, and there is a story sprouting from the bows of crickets. love is real. true stories. 04:49:16 - 2000-08-30 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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