so i know this isn't gonna be a popular pick with some but there is yet another band of the day. i have reasons for this and i will explain. pearljam is the band of the day. it is because mainly of the song "nothingman" off the vitalogy albumn. i want to share this song i had already shared with the greatest friend i could ever ask for.
i guess i got that feeling of the past all being churned up the like the turning of ponds, rivers and lakes when the fall sets in. it's fall here in alaska and in a few days i'll be hopping back on the plane to iraq. i was supposed to done with that place but maybe from my perspective at least maybe there was some lesson i failed to learn something i didn't see the other year i was there which ended just a month and a half ago. and last year i can't say there really was a fall so much as it got shit ass cold in iraq and rained for months on end. i lived and worked in the shit. the dirt and sand clung heavily to my boots and in my shoe box room with my roomate we couldn't escape the mud follwing us in our room. i had uniforms covered in the shit. sometimes i would be so soaked. like on christmas. all it did was rain and get colder. and my vehicle got hit so i was under it all night in the rain changing tires and checking out the damage when i was past being tired. and all i wanted was to soak in a bath. fuck i would have been good to make up from some illness and in my delerium like so many years ago find myself watching a christmas carol at some dark black night in the middle of dreams and have the potency of an acid trip and see the characters in and out of feverish dreams. i would have fallen in love again with doris day singing to here how i'd lasso the moon. the crisp smell of wrapped presents, the light smell of pine needles and burnt wicks an almost rememberance of believing in something like angels. but nah. i was in the shit. feeling the cold water and mud being soaked up by my uniform. and then in sandals carrying my soap bag and towel in the pouring rain into a somewhat warm shower with water the barely made you feel cleaner than you were moments ago. i'd skip a bit of sleep and call my folks. calm them down. let it tear me apart. wonder if this year my sister would be happy with her present. if her smile would real or faked. find myself awake once again while everyone else was asleep and remember the past and sit on the dark porch looking out onto the lake and watching the fog creep across the black night. here the water splash about and the ducks and geese splashing about like some water nymph forgetten about and let loose to play in all those childrens' dreams as they slept with toys and believed in things in a world they'd find out might be just a tad bit more screwed up they could ever imagine on the next day of school they'd have feeling all proud on show'n tell day. maybe another snow day might come about. then we can go outside and go sledding and build snow tunnels and in the quiet of night me and my dog would lay in the snow and watch the crystallized stars above whisper little prayers of hope and you could feel those on those nights. they were so real. tear soaked teddy bears and begging please god this time make daddy come home and not be drunk. at least when he brought his breath reaking of booze he always brought in a toy. i remember when he figured out when he'd put a booze soaked kiss on my forehead on those nights they i played at sleeping. he'd make me smile till i'd open my eyes. and all of this i'd see in the fog how at different times there were strings linking so much of these times to one night wondering about in the cold desolation. the hum of heaters and the crunching of snow under tires everything was hushed in a whisper.
and this some how all comes together like that fall day on the bus when my best friend up and hit me in the face while i was listening the new pearljam albumn versus. now you got to understand it was a public bus and it was fall day. my mum spared her lunch money for the week to buy me that and me and phil had been palling around for years. he's the one that got me to go to that school in the first place. i wasn't rich like he was so i was always an outsider with most of the people there. there was a club i didn't belong to and boy did i feel it. and it felt like shit that day because he was trying to impress someone trying to take out all those beatings his father was giving him and he hurt me. and we both got kicked off the bus. and his spoilt mum had to come and get us. i tried to hide my tear stained face from my mom but later around dinner time while i scraped some crackers together for my meal...at the time my mom was sick and after work she'd be in bed all day. so you got to forgive her that one. she was wondering half asleep bent down by the world at thrity-four and she looked at me. and said hey chris. well i hadn't forgiven her that yet. so i tried to be tough and mean but instead i started crying. the orange juice slipped from my hand and like in some shakespearian play i found myself on my knees obsessively cleaning the floor with my tears and a stained dish rag. and somehowthis song brings this all about. churning it about from the bottoms.
on those solitary walks through the grey colored woods in fall. riding my bike listening to this song. it's such a lonely song. and i want to describe these times as not lonely as much as solitary.
"once divided
and nothing left to subtract
some words when spoken
can't be taken back
walks on his own
with thoughts he can't help thinking
future's above
but in the past he's slow and sinking
got a bolt of lightening
cursed the day he let it go
nothingman....
nothingman.....
isn't it something?
nothingman....
she once believed
in every story he had to tell
one day she's different
took the other side
empty stares
from each corner of her shared prison cell
one just escapes
one's left inside the well
he who forgets
will be destined to remember
nothingman....
nothingman....
isn't it something
nothingman....
she don't want him
she won't feed him
after he's flown away
into the sun
and into the soul
burn
nothingman......
nothingman....
isn't it something?
nothingman...
nothingman....
nothingman,...
could have been something..
nothingman..."
cheers all, hope you enjoyed that bit of melancholia,
chris
i guess i got that feeling of the past all being churned up the like the turning of ponds, rivers and lakes when the fall sets in. it's fall here in alaska and in a few days i'll be hopping back on the plane to iraq. i was supposed to done with that place but maybe from my perspective at least maybe there was some lesson i failed to learn something i didn't see the other year i was there which ended just a month and a half ago. and last year i can't say there really was a fall so much as it got shit ass cold in iraq and rained for months on end. i lived and worked in the shit. the dirt and sand clung heavily to my boots and in my shoe box room with my roomate we couldn't escape the mud follwing us in our room. i had uniforms covered in the shit. sometimes i would be so soaked. like on christmas. all it did was rain and get colder. and my vehicle got hit so i was under it all night in the rain changing tires and checking out the damage when i was past being tired. and all i wanted was to soak in a bath. fuck i would have been good to make up from some illness and in my delerium like so many years ago find myself watching a christmas carol at some dark black night in the middle of dreams and have the potency of an acid trip and see the characters in and out of feverish dreams. i would have fallen in love again with doris day singing to here how i'd lasso the moon. the crisp smell of wrapped presents, the light smell of pine needles and burnt wicks an almost rememberance of believing in something like angels. but nah. i was in the shit. feeling the cold water and mud being soaked up by my uniform. and then in sandals carrying my soap bag and towel in the pouring rain into a somewhat warm shower with water the barely made you feel cleaner than you were moments ago. i'd skip a bit of sleep and call my folks. calm them down. let it tear me apart. wonder if this year my sister would be happy with her present. if her smile would real or faked. find myself awake once again while everyone else was asleep and remember the past and sit on the dark porch looking out onto the lake and watching the fog creep across the black night. here the water splash about and the ducks and geese splashing about like some water nymph forgetten about and let loose to play in all those childrens' dreams as they slept with toys and believed in things in a world they'd find out might be just a tad bit more screwed up they could ever imagine on the next day of school they'd have feeling all proud on show'n tell day. maybe another snow day might come about. then we can go outside and go sledding and build snow tunnels and in the quiet of night me and my dog would lay in the snow and watch the crystallized stars above whisper little prayers of hope and you could feel those on those nights. they were so real. tear soaked teddy bears and begging please god this time make daddy come home and not be drunk. at least when he brought his breath reaking of booze he always brought in a toy. i remember when he figured out when he'd put a booze soaked kiss on my forehead on those nights they i played at sleeping. he'd make me smile till i'd open my eyes. and all of this i'd see in the fog how at different times there were strings linking so much of these times to one night wondering about in the cold desolation. the hum of heaters and the crunching of snow under tires everything was hushed in a whisper.
and this some how all comes together like that fall day on the bus when my best friend up and hit me in the face while i was listening the new pearljam albumn versus. now you got to understand it was a public bus and it was fall day. my mum spared her lunch money for the week to buy me that and me and phil had been palling around for years. he's the one that got me to go to that school in the first place. i wasn't rich like he was so i was always an outsider with most of the people there. there was a club i didn't belong to and boy did i feel it. and it felt like shit that day because he was trying to impress someone trying to take out all those beatings his father was giving him and he hurt me. and we both got kicked off the bus. and his spoilt mum had to come and get us. i tried to hide my tear stained face from my mom but later around dinner time while i scraped some crackers together for my meal...at the time my mom was sick and after work she'd be in bed all day. so you got to forgive her that one. she was wondering half asleep bent down by the world at thrity-four and she looked at me. and said hey chris. well i hadn't forgiven her that yet. so i tried to be tough and mean but instead i started crying. the orange juice slipped from my hand and like in some shakespearian play i found myself on my knees obsessively cleaning the floor with my tears and a stained dish rag. and somehowthis song brings this all about. churning it about from the bottoms.
on those solitary walks through the grey colored woods in fall. riding my bike listening to this song. it's such a lonely song. and i want to describe these times as not lonely as much as solitary.
"once divided
and nothing left to subtract
some words when spoken
can't be taken back
walks on his own
with thoughts he can't help thinking
future's above
but in the past he's slow and sinking
got a bolt of lightening
cursed the day he let it go
nothingman....
nothingman.....
isn't it something?
nothingman....
she once believed
in every story he had to tell
one day she's different
took the other side
empty stares
from each corner of her shared prison cell
one just escapes
one's left inside the well
he who forgets
will be destined to remember
nothingman....
nothingman....
isn't it something
nothingman....
she don't want him
she won't feed him
after he's flown away
into the sun
and into the soul
burn
nothingman......
nothingman....
isn't it something?
nothingman...
nothingman....
nothingman,...
could have been something..
nothingman..."
cheers all, hope you enjoyed that bit of melancholia,
chris
VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
alone...listless...breakfast table in an otherwise empty room
young girl...violence...center of her own attention
mother reads aloud, child tries to understand it
tries to make her proud
the shades go down, it's in her head
painted room...can't deny there's something wrong...
don't call me daughter, not fit to
the picture kept will remind me
i gotcha.