oh comely

13 Dec

basically: I have to buy Neutral Milk Hotel’s second album as soon as I can, else I will explode into a not-so-nice shower of blood and gunk.
So to take my mind off of that, I’ve been doing the following before I sleep: writing in a notebook, eyes closed, mind blank.
Usually I forget what I’ve written in the morning, but then I look at it and it reads like the lyrics to an Of Montreal song.
Here’s last night’s, or at least what I can read of it:
The promised land, your father’s grave,’when we fall it willnbe beautiful and magnificent, but unfortunately this (scribble) will fail we’ll end up confused and terrified.
A lesson from some beatiple [sic] darlings A beautiful the original…

Are bent built by crackered soy bands, an opportunity island kissed the night
Coals would put understand, the adamantine neck quivering around them
Tender, loving onslaught- too saga(?) every night and speak your name, quietly
And it’ really the duality in things, and the fire and the holy glory and the beauty that I enjoy…


There is more, but my blind handwriting is ridiculously difficult to read.

But the stuff that I can read and didn’t write here- that will stay hidden.

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