i have 28 weeks later on right now. this is probably not the best writing atmosphere. but i love how they shot this. when the infected are relentlessly attacking. so frenetic. such great camera angles. fitting music. i wonder how long it took them to shoot this opening scene. or at least to edit it together. and robert carlyle, choosing his own life over all the others.
that wasn't the point of me writing this. anyway. today i was listening to brandtson's "a thousand years" and it made me want to write again. i have so many things unfinished, snippets of stories and bits of lyrics. as i drove home today i turned the stereo off and sang out the thoughts in my head. just me and some rhymes and a whole lot of off-key warbles. and it has been so long. it felt so good. this brandtson song makes me think of seduction, the first time two lovers really see each other, tenderness and hands shaking, but nothing will stop them from doing this, being together, melding. those moments that stretch on for what seems like hours and there is no one else in the world. anyone who has felt that, has tasted how sweet love can be...i wonder if they'd get the same thing out of this song as i do. if i had heard this song two months ago, or even three weeks ago when i was still drinking regularly, would i have interpreted it the same way? would it have had the same effect?
i don't really like brandtson's albums as a whole, but this song and escapist are two of my favorite songs.
falling out of trees are kites and paper airplanes
that float away and never touch the ground
the sidewalk starts to move, the buildings crashing down
and no one seems to notice if it makes a sound
a thousand years from now
i wonder if they'll wonder how
the world looked to you and me
the continents will change and islands rearrange
and float away and maybe fall into the sea
so many places to go with this thought. i love when music has this effect. not just reaction or identification, but inspiration. this song inspires me to keep typing, to find that girl who used to be unafraid of keeping a journal and scratching out the littlest bit of an idea, whatever the subject may be. when i was 18 and at the rock and roll hall of fame, i made a wish on yoko ono's wish tree that i would be a writer, and people would love the things i wrote. i just need to keep writing...