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The first time I saw you, my heart fell. The second time I saw you, my heart fell. The third time fourth time fifth time and every time since, my heart has fallen. I stared at her. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Your hair, your eyes, your lips, your body that you haven't grown into, the way you walk, smile, laugh, the way your cheeks drop when you're mad or upset, the way you drag your feet when you're tired. Every single thing about you is beautiful. I stared at her. When I see you the World stops. It stops and all that exists for me is you and my eyes staring at you. There's nothing else. No noise, no other people, no thoughts or worries, no yesterday, no tomorrow. The World just stops and it is a beautiful place and there is only you. Just you, and my eyes staring at you. I stared. When you're gone, the World starts again, and I don't like it as much. I can live in it, but I don't like it. I just walk around in it and wait to see you again and wait for it to stop again. I love it when it stops. It's the best fucking thing I've ever known or ever felt, the best thing, and that, beautiful Girl, is why I stare at you. ↗
For instance? Well, for instance, what it means to be a man. In a city. In a century. In transition. In a mass. Transformed by science. Under organized power. Subject to tremendous controls. In a condition caused by mechanization. After the late failure of radical hopes. In a society that was no community and devalued the person. Owing to the multiplied power of numbers which made the self negligible. Which spent military billions against foreign enemies but would not pay for order at home. Which permitted savagery and barbarism in its own great cities. At the same time, the pressure of human millions who have discovered what concerted efforts and thoughts can do. As megatons of water shape organisms on the ocean floor. As tides polish stones. As winds hollow cliffs. The beautiful supermachinery opening a new life for innumerable mankind. Would you deny them the right to exist? Would you ask them to labor and go hungry while you yourself enjoyed old-fashioned Values? You—you yourself are a child of this mass and a brother to all the rest. or else an ingrate, dilettante, idiot. There, Herzog, thought Herzog, since you ask for the instance, is the way it runs. ↗
The way I played music there was the way I wanted to farm, chop wood, cook, make love, raise children. Everything. A lo of it had to do with things I felt while I played. If only I could feel that sense of total absorption in what I was doing when I was doing other things. It was more than absorption, it was spontaneity, competence, a sense of grace and playfulness, of being in touch with an inexhaustible source of energy and beauty. ↗
There will be others, many others. You’ll try desperately to digest a single word through the acronym-laden gibberish, while beginning to wonder what the point of all this is, and also why you didn’t feel that staple you just sent into your thigh. You usually do. You’ll wonder what your company even does. After six years, you have no idea what an information system is, do you? Maybe you should ask. Maybe that’s how this ends. You’ll imagine how poetic it would be to simply unmute yourself and say, “Sorry to interrupt, guys, but what’s an information system?” Still, your mind will drift further, envisioning how much more tolerable this call would be if you could just slowly masturbate during it. So you do. You masturbate during it. And it’s beautiful. Masturbating, invisible within your three-walled fortress. Invisible… invisible… practically invisible. ↗
The Suburbs In the suburbs I I learned to drive And you told me we'd never survive Grab your mother's keys we're leavin' You always seemed so sure That one day we'd fight in In a suburban world your part of town gets minor So you're standin' on the opposite shore But by the time the first bombs fell We were already bored We were already, already bored Sometimes I can't believe it I'm movin' past the feeling Sometimes I can't believe it I'm movin' past the feeling again Kids wanna be so hard But in my dreams we're still screamin' and runnin' through the yard And all of the walls that they built in the seventies finally fall And all of the houses they build in the seventies finally fall Meant nothin' at all Meant nothin' at all It meant nothin Sometimes I can't believe it I'm movin' past the feeling Sometimes I can't believe it I'm movin' past the feeling and into the night So can you understand? Why I want a daughter while I'm still young I wanna hold her hand And show her some beauty Before this damage is done But if it's too much to ask, it's too much to ask Then send me a son Under the overpass In the parking lot we're still waiting It's already passed So move your feet from hot pavement and into the grass Cause it's already passed It's already, already passed! Sometimes I can't believe it I'm movin' past the feeling Sometimes I can't believe it I'm movin' past the feeling again I'm movin' past the feeling I'm movin' past the feeling In my dreams we're still screamin' We're still screamin' We're still screamin ↗
