"I Get a Little Lonely When The Sun Gets Low..."

"...And I end up looking for somewhere to go
Yes, I should know better but I can't say no
Oh no, no, no
No, no, no, no, no, no, no..."

 

 ...(From Night Owl by Gerry Rafferty)

          (full lyrics below)

 

Though, to be fair, nowadays I don't really "get a little lonely when the sun gets low", and instead of "looking for somewhere to go", I generally end up looking for a video game to play or a dvd to watch. BUT, once upon a time, much like Gerry Rafferty, I had periods of nighttime melancholy, where I would be "lost in dreams in a world full of shadows", and would sometimes soothe this distortion with "one more drink, you're sailing away".

 

Thankfully, I've never been a heavy drinker; I don't like the feeling of being obliterated (mostly) and I hate hangovers and I wouldn't want to trip over my feet and fall on my face (mostly). So I've stayed away from the demon drink (mostly). But if I'd found (or find, in the future) the lure of the bottle too lurey, I think I could listen to Night Owl for some solace, with its calming melody and gentle melancholy, set against its harsh truth, maybe repeated listenings would be a way to ease myself away from going down, down, down (no, no, no...).

Full Lyrics:

Night comes down and finds you alone
In a space and time of your own
Lost in dreams in a world full of shadows

Down the street the neon light shines
Offering refuge and hope to the blind
You stumble in with no thought of tomorrow

Yes, I get a little lonely when the sun gets low
And I end up looking for somewhere to go
Yes, I should know better but I can't say no
Oh no, no, no
No, no, no, no

The lights are low and the Muzak is loud
You watch yourself as you play to the crowd
One more face in a palace of mirrors

One more drink, you're sailing away
One more dream but it's looking okay
One more time to watch the flow of the river

Yes, I get a little lonely when the sun gets low
And I end up looking for somewhere to go
Yes, I should know better but I can't say no
Oh no, no, no
No, no, no, no, no, no, no

Current Psyche...Jack Torrance

I am attempting to channel the essence of Jack Torrance - the father from Stephen King's novel The Shining, who becomes possessed by the evil Overlook Hotel.


This photo - from Stanley Kubrick's film version - shows the beginning of the transformation of Jack (Jack Nicholson) from a non psychotic, non axe-wielding man, who is NOT trying to kill his family, into a psychotic, axe-wielding, passionately trying to murder his family, kinda guy. It's quite a transformation.

Okay, I'm not actually seeking to find the right psyche which would allow me to murder the peoples but I am obsessed with the above photo: the manic glare, the unkempt facade, the turtleneck sweater. It's like looking into a mirror (except for the sweater - turtlenecks irritate my sensitive neck skin). I think everyone should spend some time in the thrall of a manic glare and unkempt facade, it nourishes the soul (before the devil takes it)

Also, it's possible this most recent psyche was influenced by the events which occurred about a month ago, documented in the previous blog post.

"Heeere's Johnny!!!" *

Here is a visual representation of my psyche from earlier today:



But after some hot chocolate and a chat with Mum (and driving over my neighbour's shoes**, which were left in the middle of the driveway), my psyche looks like this:



I'd say there's a definite "Tiger/Lamb" paradox going on today. (I've put this pretentious sentence in so I can use the enigmatic "Tiger/Lamb" label).


*My thanks to the lovely Jack Nicholson and the lovely Stanley Kubrick for their lovely film creation of my second favourite Stephen King (who is also lovely) novel, The Shinning. My favourite Stephen King novel is Carrie; who is a GODDESS! - and also lovely.

**the shoes were not wrecked, just a little misshapen, and I frequently have to move shoes left in the driveway when I want to drive in or out; still, now that I'm a rose-bearing child-angel I feel a little regretful for my driveway rage.