Sunday, December 18, 2005

[random] In my head there are waves like thunder

Not a lot going on... Okay, there's been a flurry of activity - holiday parties, work, going to see The Lion, the Witch & the Wardrobe, getting the Christmas tree, yet more work, decorating aforementioned tree, (did I mention work?) preparing the house for holiday guests, planning last-minute shopping runs, figuring out who's taking The Boy what afternoons and when and so on - but there hasn't been anything extraordinary happening. But whatever hasn't been happening, there's sure been a lot of it. And for whatever reason (and there are probably bunches of them), I'm just feeling plain old melancholy this evening. Y'see, the title comes from a song by a band I'd completely forgotten about all these years - 'Submarine Song' by the Candyskins. I was sitting in front of the TV, not quite paying attention to something I'd TiVo'd from PBS, when I decided to flip on over to the newish XM Radio streams DirecTV is offering these days. Toggling between some of the alternative stations, I was zoning on the couch, a large black dog sleeping contentedly against my thigh. Through a little bit of a pinot-gris-induced haze, I heard this song that I haven't heard in, oh, 15 years or so. And did I hear it - I flashed back to my senior dorm in college, visions of me lying on my too-small bed in a room sweltering in the heat of spring. It was quite vivid, and, well, kind of unsettling. I could picture the layout of the room quite clearly, recalling details which, like the song, haven't crossed my synapses in more than a decade. I let the song finish, but that was too weird a sensation for me to just keep sitting there. I snapped off the TV and got a mournful look from the dog in return. Ignoring her silent entreaties, I headed upstairs to load the dishwasher. The earlier load wasn't finished running yet, so I sat down on the couch in the living room, lit solely by the newly-decorated Christmas tree. Mistake. The smell of the tree, the shadows on the wall cast by branches through lights - more visions, older ones, from decades past. I sat there for a while, letting thoughts and memories dance in the half-dark of the room, in the half-light of my memory. And as I sat there, the earlier lyrics dovetailed with my mood and the experience perfectly...
In my head there are waves like thunder, I can hear them every day. I'm not drowning I'm just going under, Swimming's not my scene anyway.
All in all, too weird for me. Eh. I don't know if I'm going to keep this post or not; it isn't polished, it's awkwardly worded and haphazardly structured, and, well, it doesn't even come close to expressing how I felt. Maybe I've just been handed some more fodder for my fiction blog which has been sitting dormant for too long; we'll see...

2 Comments:

Blogger Carnacki said...

I like it. Disjointed in a good way because it gives a sense of the memory flashback.

Certain pink floyd songs take me back to whiskey drinking hazes.

12/20/2005 09:19:00 PM  
Blogger protected static said...

Thanks... As per usual, I've got a ton of stuff swirling around in my head, so who knows if I'll rework it - but there's a germ of an idea there that could probably be shaped and refashioned into something better.

12/20/2005 11:08:00 PM  

Post a Comment

Links to this post:

Create a Link

<< Home