The Treehouse + The Cave

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Wednesday, April 20, 2005

Days in NeoTokyo

Some mornings I awake knowing that the day is doomed. Often, it's because I'm literally overscheduled (and thus I will have little opportunity to steal back time, to have even a single creative thought on the company's dime). Others, it's just a feeling that permeates the air, hanging heavily above my head, waiting for consciousness to lift my eyelids before befalling me slowly yet violently.

I've known since dawn plowed through our uncurtained window that today would be such a day (actually I've known since I awoke Monday that this would be a sullen week, but that's another matter). On days like these, I pound my way down the streets I tread every morning and every evening, down subways steps and down the corridors that lead to my desk, each step synced with the hardest, dubbiest shit I can find within my personal sonic library. I blast it at a damaging volume (killing my ears the way I kill my lungs with hot smoke), littering my environment with the tinny frequencies that escape burrowed earbuds. With each rolling bassline, I imagine that pressure waves of massive power emanate from my head, reducing the surrounding buildings, people and materials to fragments of their former selves; dust dwarfed by pebbles. As I walk, taking heavy steps, my music and my mood leave a powdery wake of dissolution. All that I've passed, gone.

Blogger TRUE thought:

dawn plows thru...niice.

April 21, 2005 at 7:46 AM - Comment Permalink  

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