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IT'S HERE!!!!!!!!!



i knew i played hookey from work today for a reason.

wanted to clean the apartment. mental health day.
bought new blinds...

and as i'm stumbling through the front door with boxes
of mini blinds falling about me, the ups truck drives
up, two men clad in shit-brown walk up to the house,
and thinking they're looking for the landlord, they
call my name instead.

my heart stops.

i drop the remaining blinds.

and within moments of fumbling my signature on their
magic touchscreen pad, running upstairs with all my
might, tearing open incourageable cardboard...

it glistens in my hands.

number 298 out of who knows how many...

linford's silver name flowing atop of the back of the
booklet, karin's blurt of a signature on the disc...

a sleek, hip, marketable (yet vaugely and comfortably
familiar) look about them all...

and i place it in the path of a willing laser beam...

and what feels like cocteau twins chords filter forth
from my speakers and i melt...

and i think how different this will be to so many who
love good dog bad dog. and how different eve was from
patience. and how it is ALL good. each one a different
colour on the artist's pallette. a thalo green, a
bunrt seinna, an alizarin crimson... each colour
contibuting to a much larger painting, like
congregating dots on a Surat, or the trenches of
colour etched into a VanGogh, or the sensuous
overtones of a Rossetti...

all i can do is breathe and absorb this rich music
which seeps like insence into my soul.

like a fingernail traced down my spine
like remembering the childhood taste of virginian
honeysuckle
like visiting the subtle smiles of old friends
like a warm towel straight from the gas dryer
like a slightly ajar closet door in a dark corner of
the hallway
like a key in your hand
like sleeping next to a curled up kitten on the floor,
sharing a welcome sunbeam
like early adventures in your grandmother's attic,
where everything was mysterious and magical
like laughing out tears
like crying on the shoulder of your lover after  a
peccavi
like...

learning to breathe again.

take this music and drink in every note. let it grow
on you... like vines clutching brick, i can tell it
will fasten itself tighter with each listen.

this album is like waiting for the monsoon after a
long draught...

look, here come the storm clouds.
listen, the wind is shaking the trees.
the rain is begining to fall
and it's a beautiful thing.



bink


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