behind the music at 420

and reaching for the memories, the telling of secrets threaded through this diary over the years, I come to face myself in a song again... and if you really want to know the one sleepwriting here on Planet Candora, then bare with me as this rambling entry unfolds and perhaps you'll find more of me in these words than you've found before... or maybe it's just another tease... you know how to find out...

all it takes is time...

4:20am... one of my favorite times of the 24 hour clock... and the deepest... a time when all the ghost come out and all the wounds open up and catharsis bleeds out of the deepest depths and tears fall and cleanse the wounds that will never completely heal even as healing continues...

4:20am... and the references the time brings... from the melancholy hope of the Carpenter's wide awake at 4am (one of my top ten all time autobiographical songs that include Honesty, The Impossible Dream and... oh, the tapes... the loss... and how to rebuild the courage to give the trust again... the soup that's simmered for a decade, but that's another story expounded on in deeper writings when I finally wake to share again) to the other meaning for 420 that used to be my external meditative aid of choice until I decided it was too expensive and that I didn't really need any external meditative aides, though I think, more and more, that the occasional additive to the meditative/creative process would be a welcome memory and change from the mundane constant peace that surrounds me and my roller coaster heart and has for so long now, but that too is another tale told by a madman and lived by a fool for another time and other places)...

hey, what can I say, I did consume three four Krispy Kremes and more than a liter of Code Red today... and after hours and hours of distractions from college football upsets and baseball playoffs, I am quite ready for my favorite stuff besides sharing true love, becoming part of music...

and I've got Meg and Dia serenading me in the headphones and you should know by now how I adore my aural romance with Dia's voice and Meg's songs and the band's music (just look at the recent entries here)... ah, if only we lived in the same different world in our minds (amusing turn of a phrase if you follow my thought)...

and then there's this 420...

the time, the memories, the creativity, the passion, it all comes together (to a head, in fact) when I am awake and alone in these moments... and I wake a bit more and I feel more real about everything and in touch with myself and therein more selfish, centered, secure, and me-related than I usually actualize these days (in other words, my usual daily life of distraction and altruism sits on a back burner and the deepest most selfish dreams rise to the surface)...

and the surge of desire, the hunger, the craving, the dream of sharing the passion of falling and being in love becomes ever so real... almost real enough to step on the board and dive off again... but alas, that takes two and thanks to my isolationist policies in the social arena, the pool may be as empty as it appears and that could be a big hurt...

but oh, the love could be so wonderful at 420...

so it would seem that I am inching my way to actually being ready to take some sharing of intimacies seriously in this real world (in real time, no less) again... and there's a rumble from somewhere ever so deep inside that articulates into, but who to trust?... whom, even?... and there's a bittersweet chuckle from the part of me that accepts imperfections and lets all bets ride...

one sure sign is the increase of mixed metaphors...

and the musical bubbles rise up from the depths of my dreams and remind me of the magnifiscent explosions of passion and devotion and adoration and love that I've known and shared and tell me of possible explosions yet to be... and the fantasies are not enough for these musical bubbles... ah, dear bottom line child, how I neglect you... and miss you...

and another sign is my increasing posts in more public places (like myspace for one)where the potential contacts are much more abundant than I have in my semi-private, mostly obscure blogs, journals, and diaries...

and then there are these nineteen stars...

candora

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NOTE: Due to excessive comment SPAM, comments have been turned off... ironically, this month is the renewal for supergold membership and the comments feature... bad timing... you know how much I love feedback, so maybe there's be comments again one of these days... until then, please leave a note... thanks J