The Typewritten Press

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Poor man’s process couple of weeks ago on #sanctuaryfilm

Day two. #sanctuary (at BURN by Rocky Patel)

On set. #sanctuary (at Naples, Florida)

I dreamt I loved a woman, and she loved me. We were happy until she turned into a monster. And not in a figurative sense. Her face disfigured in an instant. Teeth to fangs. Hands to claws. Five foot something to six feet of unbreakable mass. Her mind’s sole purpose to devour me.

She chased me through streets and over fences.
I offered my love as a reason for her to stop, but her ears were gone. I ran backwards, pleading for her to see reason, but the words fell flat. I stared into the eyes that were no longer her eyes. Searched for a piece of her. Came away only seeing the woman I loved.

My legs kept running. But she reached me. Or I let her reach me. She destroyed me. Devoured my being. And from the final darkness I still felt the same.

the car’s on fire and there’s no driver at the wheel
and the sewers are all muddied with a thousand lonely suicides
and a dark wind blows

the government is corrupt
and we’re on so many drugs
with the radio on and the curtains drawn

we’re trapped in the belly of this horrible machine
and the machine is bleeding to death

the sun has fallen down
and the billboards are all leering
and the flags are all dead at the top of their poles

it went like this:

the buildings tumbled in on themselves
mothers clutching babies picked through the rubble
and pulled out their hair

the skyline was beautiful on fire
all twisted metal stretching upwards
everything washed in a thin orange haze

i said: “kiss me, you’re beautiful -
these are truly the last days”

you grabbed my hand and we fell into it
like a daydream or a fever

we woke up one morning and fell a little further down -
for sure it’s the valley of death

i open up my wallet
and it’s full of blood

The Dead Flag Blues by Godspeed You! Black Emperor

Why does insomnia wait until the night sleep is needed to strike?

Oh, our igloo house is bigger now
We made each brick of ice like stone
It’s a fort that can’t be broken
A place no one will ever find us

We we’re children, now we’ve grown

Nobody knows how loud your heart gets
‘Cause we’re a million miles away but I still hear you
And I’m going, going, going, going to get you

Tell you all my memories and you will tell me yours
The colors of my favorite trees before the winter’s war
The reasons you and me should talk about the great unknown
Without the distance in between and all the obstacles we’ve known

The things we know we just don’t know
The things we know we don’t know

Nobody knows how loud your heart gets
‘Cause we’re a million miles away but I still hear you
And I’m going, going, going, going to get you
Yeah I’m going, going, going, going to get you
Like a robber in the night, I’m going to get you
Still and all, why bother? Here’s my answer: Many people need desperately to receive this message: “I feel and think much as you do, care about many of the things you care about, although most people don’t care about them. You are not alone.”
Kurt Vonnegut - Timequake p.193