thelatenightcreator - Tumblr blog

[thelatenightcreator]

rejection letter/psychological condition

Great. The letter lies ripped open (I've long since stopped using letter openers and knives) and the rain hits the glass. Now what will I do? Why is it like this? Why do we wait for big breaks when we should garner acclaim gradually? Why do I crave acclaim, anyway? Is it some psychological condition? Or is it a basic desire to be loved manifested in an unattainable way? The desire to be loved is, I guess, a psychological condition. There is no answer. And still the rain comes down.

[thelatenightcreator]

I have a riddle for you. Only yes or no questions allowed.

Rope breaks. Bell rings. Man dies.

[thelatenightcreator]

gosh i love la la land

Gosh golly do I love La La Land. I love the music. I love the cinematography. I love the dresses. I love Emma Stone. I love John Legend. I love that other guy who was in Barbie. I love that one scene at the party when she makes his band sing Flock of Seagulls. The movie fills a colourful, romance-shaped hole in my little heart. I think about it during the day, I dream about it during the night. I wait on park benches for Ryan Gosling to kick dust on my shoes. I loiter outside observatories and jazz bars. Or I would, if I knew any. In the shower I croak out "My aunt used to live in Paris..." I leave roasts in the oven until they smoke and the fire alarm goes off. I shoulder past people and ignore what they say to me.

I have perfected my La La Land immersion. The only problem is the music. I listen to City of Stars on my headphones, I blast Another Day of Sun in my room, I hum Mia & Sebastian's Theme in my head. But nobody else hears it.

Do you love La La Land?

[thelatenightcreator]

a snapshot at my march playlist

Introduction: Good evening, Tumblr. In an effort to post more (post 'more' meaning post 'anything'), here are a few songs I've been listening to. I like to think I have a good music taste, but what is taste, anyway, right? We're all equal. We all have different opinions. Some are just better than others, and mine is THE BEST OF ALL! Enjoy some April Lavigne, Belle and Sebastian, and Bach. It's like a delicious stew with a random assortment of fridge items thrown in. Expiry dates disregarded. Yum, yum.

Don't Sleep in the Subway - Petula Clark

My Happy Ending - April Lavigne

The Bidding - Tally Hall

Step Into My Office, Baby - Belle and Sebastian

Shameika - Fiona Apple

Eclipse - Pink Floyd

Thank God For The Rain - Bernard Herrmann (From 'Taxi Driver')

Me Gustas Tu - Manu Chao

Air On A G String - Bach

She Came In Through The Bathroom Window - The Beatles

Words - F.R. David

[thelatenightcreator]

creative anxiety #1: Thursday, 1:30 AM

Thursday, 1:30 AM

I have to kill the lights and go to bed

or else I would waste the night away

watching the cars glide down the dark highway,

contemplating decisions and 

composing music in my head;

pacing my room and flipping through books 

found unexpectedly on my shelf

trying on clothes and seeing if they go with bright red eyeshadow

or a big yellow belt.

That, or else I might rearrange my card collection

re-read letters from friends gone away

redraw my reflection in the mirror,

or trace thoughts in window condensation

unhindered by complications of the day.

[thelatenightcreator]

Bottled up/Love

I understand that expression now, ‘bottled up’. It has to be a bottle because when bottles are shaken pressure mounts inside. You’re corked. I have full ability to get my words out, and to put them on paper, or in music, or maybe relay them to a therapist, but I don’t. I subconsciously refuse. It’s so awful, but it’s too pathetic to be valid. What I like about poetry is that sometimes you’ll stumble across a poem that perfectly encapsulates a specific feeling or thought you’re experiencing. And I’m not talking about “I love you” – which the most unobservant person will realise is the message of every song, poem, book, movie, speech, everything – but “I am sitting in an unknown café while it’s snowing outside, and everything feels perfect and good in this moment even though I am only sitting in a café alone” like in Bukowski’s “Nirvana”. Or “Everything is too much or too little and, for a while, I don’t want to concern myself with anything, especially anything man-made” like in Dionne Brand’s “I am giving up on land to light on”. We studied that poem in my English class and the only thing anyone could talk about were the anti-colonial themes, but it can be so much more than that.

Do you know how isolating it is to hear “I love you” in every piece of media and art and song when you’re not in love and have never been in love? I don’t pity people who have had their heart broken because there are a million heartbreak songs and a thousand movies about breakups. There are no songs about never having felt love. There are no songs that capture those specific feelings. It’s either “I love you” or “I loved you”.

Even this essay-poem-disaster has become about love. God.

I feel like I’m speaking a different language that only I speak. I can only translate it through songs and poems – sometimes book characters – but that’s at best a half-translation. Maybe a line here or there will cover a side feeling, but never the heart of it. I imagine that if you’re in love, any old Shakespeare sonnet will do pretty well. Do you know “I Am A Rock” by Simon and Garfunkle? That’s the closest I’ll come.

For example, angsty love issues aside, I really want to leave my home city. My home city is beautiful, I love my family, and I’ve loved growing up here. (‘Love’ in this context is okay, for your information.) But I yearn to leave, and see other things, and get away from all the people I love. Maybe in Barcelona I’ll find whatever I’m looking for.