Little Deaths

Steve Irwin died. To a stingray. What a way to go.

And I wasn’t in the know until half an hour from midnight yesterday. It’s a terrible melancholy how other things that were hopeful thoughts at the stroke of midnight — when I was still abroad calling Jon and Lukas wishing them, amidst smses to friends and acquaintances, the best of ‘06 — are dying too. Or have died. Or are dead. Like this year’s New Year’s Resolutions, nestled in the second-last edited entry under Notes in my handphone:

#1 Jamie Cullum, Next Year Baby (over gone and done)
#2 A six-pack. (this is still possible…)
#3 Be more forgiving of people’s flaws. (I only managed a person and still broke #1)
#4 Makeshift / Perfidia (only wrote once in March, but there’s always December)

I wonder how that phantom limb syndrome that amputees experience feels like. It’s been there for so long, so you think it’s going to be there despite waking up to a stump of a limb everyday, and no amount of crying or screaming will bring it back. Pretty much nothing. So they use prosthetics, fake limbs that try to substitute the real thing, but it’s never really the same. Nothing much is.

And there’s the question of anaesthetics — temporary relief is no relief, yet it’s always marketed as the cure to everything. Trying to block out the pain either way’s a Catch 22 that leads to painkiller addiction later, or a process of ameliorating that jars the senses. So both sides of the coin still blow; and then there’s the concept of pain. Pain is a reaction of the senses to other stimuli from external or internal sources, real or conceived, physical or emotional. The next step to eliminating it is either conditioning the senses against it or eliminating the senses altogether… it’s an either/or.

[about ACIDMAN]
Two days or so until Slow Rain is out. I wonder how the single’s going to be like; will it be something along the lines of the balanced, uttermost brilliance that was equal, or the vivid imagery-audio aesthetic of and world? Isotope‘s getting the (second line) treatment, and repeated listening makes me wonder how you can improve on perfection.

It still bugs me how I don’t know what I’m singing to, but maybe it’s all for the best. There is no better 3-man band out there.

Explore posts in the same categories: E/N, Significance