Sunday, February 26, 2017

The Juiciest Juice

Remember the heady whirlwind month of July featuring Dreamboat?  Let's splash around in a brief recap.  In order of events:  July Part I, July Part II, July Part III, July Part IV, July Part V, July Part VI and the subsequent ridiculous backlash and backsliding into the train wreck Lost Boy that comprised August.  Culminating in spending the better part of Autumn trying to piece myself back together in true CTST dramatic fashion convinced I would wander the earth alone.  And probably be happier for it.  Anger, Wanderlust, Not Giving a Fuck.

All caught up?  Dreamboat, being of the Scorpion ilk, charms, cajoles, and confuses me into abject capitulation every single time.  He resurfaced in November, like some sort of sexy groundhog, pillaged the fields for his birthday and submerged himself once more.  Since then, quite randomly and rather humorously, he pops up like one of those Wack-a-mole games at shitty arcades with virtual words so tempting and beguiling.  Words, words, words.  My Achilles heel but so ephemerally flimsy.  Still... there are some people that have that knack for crawling inside to secrete their essences into your cells.  Sleeper clones, lying in wait to rekindle the bloom.

It's bloomed, this decadent viral herpetic romance.  Bamboozled yet again!  We spent ten glorious hours together, touching on all those sappy cliches I adore.  Picnic in the park, snarkily laughing at the half naked Yoga Man, resplendent in a man bun exhibiting undoubtedly psychedelic inspired dance moves to unheard music, and soaking up the sunshine with side-splittingly easy camaraderie.  All perfectly platonic, of course.  Twice bitten, I've learned my lesson.   Or so I thought.  Then come those kryptonian flowing champagne words.  Silvery tongued and so hypnotically rapturous, laden with charmingly awkward regretful expressions, languid deliciousness and promises there will be no more Peter Pan disappearances into the ether.

Can snake charmers ever truly sleep soundly? My own inner snake reincarnated and lies coiled, poised with panther tail twitching, ever alert and watchful.  In the months following his strangely familiar, frustratingly obvious repetitious oddities, I did what any self respecting autonomous individual should.  Created and dove into a life that I really love, finally accepting that something broken requires only acknowledgment, not repair.  Once clefted, the stones's job is finished.  It is now the microcosms purpose to wriggle and perform the dance.

Perhaps it is possible for two snakes to bewitch each other into submission briefly and then go their separate ways once the morning heat begins to singe delicate scales.  Meaning, we can rationalize just about anything we choose in order to satiate those other needs.  Returning to lick the acidic juice again and again.

Broadcast // Corporeal // Tender Buttons // 2005
Do that to me.  Do that to my anatomy.

(Try to catch the video version created by Wonder Mundle)

Cocteau Twins // Those Eyes, That Mouth // Love's Easy Tears // 1986
This is everything.

Still Corners // Don't Fall in Love // Don't Fall in Love/Wish 7" // 2011

Still Corners // Beginning to Blue // Strange Pleasures // 2013

Can't hold my breath for long
Baby blue... your eyes are deeper than the oceans go
Tell me love, is there hope?

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