Disjoint

It's a good word, disjoint. It's a fairly accurate way to describe my thoughts...my speech, and actions.

Like how quiet I am all the time. Calm. Restrained.

Except when I'm loud. Unstable. Off-kilter.

I am the artist who never paints.
                                                            .......rarely paints. With paints, anyhow.

Some sort of a contradiction. Disjoint. Except when I'm the epitome of _____________.


I can be so brilliant, which is enhanced by my insanity but stifled by my laziness...or was it the other way around?

I operate on that good ol' "Fixed Interval scallop" of behavior...like a pigeon. High functioning right at the very end of alotted time before a deadline. Just like a damn pigeon.

I have flown, but I cannot fly.

Some mornings I wake up [somemourningsIwakeup] and wonder how I got to be an adult. But I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up.



So, does anyone wanna hit disjoint?

Tous en choeur, maintenant

"Nothing is Beatle-proof."
                                              -Yellow Submarine




The Beatles are my favorite band, for many reasons ~ catchy beats, genius lyrics, groovy outlook...they're just cool. Most of what I love about their music is how it makes me visualize to the point of grasping what a beautiful time it was produced in. I've always thought I was born in the wrong generation (or reincarnated-- and I forgot to forget), but oldies music in particular seems to let me recreate the peaceful vibrations and happinness in my own experiences. I know every period in history has its problems, but a few dacades ago just seems like a neat time to exist. At the least, the Beatles' music takes me back to good times in my life - even when I just hear them in my ringtone. It makes every call bring a burst of hope with it like when I was a teenager...even if it is usually just a bill collector on the other end.

Sometimes I think it would be splendid just to disappear onto the yellow submarine (where one may inexplicably encounter Uncle Albert). Of course, it's possible that would require the application of psilocybins in the butter pie; we couldn't have that, could we? Better to stick to watching the movie.

And be one with it, man.

They look like they had so much fun.