the man who lost is not

The girl fell.
The boy is falling.
The team in the yellow uniforms won.
The man who lost is sad.

Nick paused the program. The red light of dusk sliced the screen, orphaning the kanji for sad from the rest of the sentence and basking the image of the lost man in a violent, pained crimson. For an instant, Nick was on the field with him, confused and forlorn, sputtering in Japanese,doushitandesuka, in English, don't be sad, I reject this equation, the man who lost, don't be sad! The winning team in the yellow uniform glowered from the screen, cheap dated stock photography, and the field evaporated as Nick blinked in his seat at the desk, absent of awareness that he'd been away. He unpaused the program and waited for the next exercise.

hello unknown

close your eyes. take a deep breath. imagine you are in a white space. here in this place there are no boundaries. there is no ground, no ceiling, no walls. there is no up or down. you are suspended in it. not floating, not stuck. there is no gravity. there is no distance, other than the distance from your eyes to your fingers and toes. you feel light and unfettered. your body is of little value in this white space, for you cannot sit or stand or walk or swim because there is no resistance or distance upon which your movement is based. you can wave your limbs and contort your body, but you are weightless and at ease. imagine yourself in this place without beginning or end.

now imagine you have a special power. when you swallow hard and deliberately in your throat, you can turn your body inside out and like a sock, engulfing it in the empty endless white. imagine that if you turn yourself inside out like this, you would vanish and only the white would remain. to make this happen, you would simply need to concentrate and swallow, and in doing so you would obliterate the "i" in "i am." you would not be, but everywhere would. prepare to dissolve. now, swallow.

kahimi karie - the silence in a storm

One night

I went out alone to the coast

And I talked with God

ある夜

私はひとり海岸へ出て行った

そして かみさまと話をした

mori, almost 7 years ago

yearling

tall palmetto weighed heavy with rain dripping on the prairie made a lake by eight days of storms from the southeast

a boy laying on his side wakes up wet his face is even with the rising sun on the horizon the glittered veil shimmering above the lake of diamond dust before him makes him shut his eyes

i'm sure if i stay here long enough something will happen. someone will ask me for directions. the wind will pick up. the stars will fall out of the sky. if i keep my eyes open without waking up i'll see something. not a dream, a dream in a dream? a dream in a dream... i don't feel anything coming. am i more beautiful asleep? am i more seen at nighttime? the wind hasn't changed. that cloud is sleeping. something is going to happen. something when i wake up from waking up--the dream will show me myself, show me falling stars, ask me questions, push me in some direction.

bands

the storm has passed. now i have brief time for leisure. i am listening to real music again. have been thinking of my favorite bands (not solo artists). they have changed drastically over time. past favorites include belle & sebastian, low, and cocteau twins. boat/natsumen is my all-time fave. but nagisa ni te is my current fave and will be for some time, i think. they are honest, simple and organic without being safe or sappy. also, japanese music has a firm, black and twisted hold on my heart.

I stopped stifling my breath
And inhaled deeply

In a place without words
My insides split open

Just like that
I ran outside, my feet bare

It happened like a dream
Too transiently
Like ash flying

I want to know more
About the light

Again and again over and over exhaling
Until I turn transparent

My body floating in water
Holding your hand