Hurricane

you don't do it on purpose
but you make me shake
now i count the hours 'til you wake
with your babies breath
breathe symphonies
come on sweet catastrophe


-something corporate



[hammers and strings]


last night, i was one of those people.
you know, those people that are obnoxiously loud over at the next table in the restaurant, rolling with laughter over some obscene inside joke incomprehensible to the poor patrons who cannot help but overhear.
those people that are dancing in the middle of the aisle, flailing their bodies with wild abandon, screaming into their imaginary microphones while the rest of the lifeless crowd sneaks disdainful peeks out of the corner of their scorning eyes.
those people that compulsively stalk the opening act and beg for pictures with the cute piano player like teeny-bopper groupies, practically drooling so much they can barely spit out a girly "hi, we loved your show".
yep, i was one of those people, and i could not have loved it more.

last night i witnessed one of the most compelling live performances i have ever seen. jack's mannequin. that man was making sweet, sweet love to his piano, belting out his life story with such passion, electrifying the crowd. every inch of the air was charged, pulsing with a renaissance, a life, an inherent joy only music can bring. the joy i felt at being reunited with camp friends, at playing hooky for a night, at being suffused with beautiful music, was absolutely indescribable. suffice it to say that the night was, in a word, bliss.

four hours of sleep, a cup of coffee, and a long day of teaching later, it is finally time for some real sleep. but my cheeks still hurt from smiling, and there is a lingering euphoria that is floating me along, ten miles high. sweet catastrophe, indeed.


to the sleepless, this is my reply
i will write you a lullabye
a lullabye