my bones may be falling apart

I know it’s subjective, but for my part, I vastly prefer the film version of The Shining to the book. The book may lay out the themes in a discernible, traditional format–clearly presenting them like a list. But the film goes beyond that. It’s like the visceral experience of those themes. Its narrative, its setting, its internal logic fall apart, along with the mental state of its characters. It’s one of the most deeply rooted emotional journeys I’ve taken in a creative world.

I think it’s a lot like what Lynch created with The Black Lodge, in that. Both are nightmares that will stay in my bones forever.

Come,
Step into the light so that your scars gleam,
And your tears shine.
Let me run my fingers along your skin,
So that I may feel your broken bones
And weary muscles.

I am not a healer, but I promise you,
I can show you what it feels like to be cared for.
I will caress every scar with appreciation
And brush your tears away so that you can see clearly.
I will wrap those brittle bones in tight cloth
So that you won’t fall apart.
And lastly, I will be there to take your hand,
Whispering sweet nothings until you rest.

—  x-tigger 

Northern Downpour. A love song that Ryan never claimed to be a love song. The words are smooth and the tune melodic. What more could we ask to keep our fantasies alive.

If all our life is but a dream
Fantastic posing greed
- they were thrown into the world at a young age. Getting a deal before even playing a show. Their whole lives just a whirlwind dream
Then we should feed our jewelry to the sea
For diamonds do appear to be
Just like broken glass to me
- Ryan doesn’t think much of all that’s happened. He is still humbled by their experience and doesn’t want the monetary things. He’s in love and all these objects are dull compared to the sight of the one he adores. He’d rather get rid of everything they’ve earned rather than let greed consume his relationship
And then she said she can’t believe
Genius only comes along
In storms of fabled foreign tongues
- Ryan never really believed in his writing. He doubted everything he did. But Brendon most likely tried to build his confidence up. He didn’t believe the only reason Ryan’s songs became popular were because of the books, movies and such he based them off of. Bren genuinely thinks Ryan’s genius comes from Ryan, not the stories. He just wants Ryan to see how amazing he is and have confidence in the things he writes.
Tripping eyes, and flooded lungs- when you’re in love, the way you see things is very different. It’s like being in a drug induced state, hence ‘tripping’ eyes. Flooded lungs could be reference to the fact that when you’re in love you often become breathless at the sight of them, filling your lungs with air, or flooding them.
Northern downpour sends its love- I like to think this refers to when Ryan went all the way from New York to Seattle, where it was raining, to see Brendon
Hey moon, please forget to fall down

Hey moon, don’t you go down- Brendon is the moon as I’ve said in previous song analyses. Ryan is saying he doesn’t want Brendon to ever leave. Let night never end and love never die
Sugarcane in the easy mornin’- in certain cases of dreaming of sugar (specifically with people singing involved in the dream) it can be interpreted as an affair that seemed trivial and insignificant will become something much better and beneficial. Now I doubt Ryan was thinking of that, but I wanted to include it. He could simply be referencing that waking up in the morning will be sweet and satisfying. It will feel right and it will feel good
Weathervanes my one and lonely- weathervanes is a slang term for someone who changes their opinion often. So this could be Ryan having doubts about whether this will be forever. For now he loves him, but he could change
The ink is running toward the page- he has begun to write his story through song
It’s chasin’ off the days- the days are going by fast as he begins to retell what he feels through his writing
Look back at both feet
And that winding knee
- looking back to where they started. Just kids wandering through life, making music, and cut a break
I missed your skin when you were east- I’m sure there was a time that Brendon was in Las Vegas while Ryan was still in LA
You clicked your heels and wished for me- and when Bren wanted to see him, Ryan went to him
Through playful lips made of yarn- the things they did together were all remembered by their lips, held together with secrets
That fragile Capricorn- now none of them are Capricorn. But here’s the traits of a Capricorn: Typically Capricorns are highly addictive, sensitive, smart, intelligent, flexible, witty, humorous, loyal and hard working. They rarely have attitudes but can be hard to control and contained when angered. I feel like this describes Ryan and Brendon’s relationship. Meaning fragile Capricorn could be a reference to what they have
Unraveled words like moths upon old scarves- their relationship (the fragile Capricorn) brought a lot out. All the secrets that were in the back of their closet came out once they had something definable
I know the world’s a broken bone
But melt your headaches, call it home
- the world may be shit, it may be falling apart, but don’t worry, I’m here with open arms to be your home. Home is where the heart is, and I’ll hold onto your heart for you so you have someplace to come back to
You are at the top of my lungs- you are the air I breathe. The air I can’t breathe.
Drawn to the ones who never yawn- as Brendon is the moon, he is drawn to people who can weather the night. The ones who keep his mind going and excite him

 when we feel that we're born
                           just to fall apart

i. fictionian - double negative // ii. sufjan stevens - futile devices // iii. of the wand & the moon - immer vorwärts // iv. jeff zentner - fire in my bones // v. seafret - something in the air // vi. jessica pratt - moon dude // vii. sol invictus - an english garden // viii. early settler - aisly // ix. johnny flynn - churlish may // x. current 93 - a sadness song // xi. novemthree - sing of beauty // xii. spiritual front - choose death // xiii. andrew jackson jihad - white face, black eyes // xiv. the waterboys - an irish airman foresees his death

a Simon Monroe fanmix » 37 min » 14 tracks » to fall apart 

“There are good days and there are bad days,” you would say to me as you would try and explain away why the whiskey bottle was empty again this morning, why you smelled like her and why you thought it was best to let me know what you had done. At least that way, you were absolved of the sin of lying; the one your bones were too light to lift and just couldn’t take, so to save your fragile mind, you bestowed me with betrayal.

My mother would bring me an encouraging cup of tea in a giant pink mug instead of a cup and explain, “There are good days and there are bad days.” Her eyes were always full of positive energy and strength and good will. I look back to those days and try and gain the strength she had in her bones from her words. I always fail.

They told me I had a disease within my bones. It started from the bottom of my knee and was moving upwards. Because that is what bones did. They broke from the inside out. “There will be good days and bad days,” they warned me. I knew at that very point that it was going to eat my bones and spit them out once the muscle and strength from them had melted.

There have been good days and bad days, I tell myself as I hold your hand tightly, waiting for the last of the treatments that may save the structure that is holding me together, before it falls apart for good. You ask me if I would like some water. I say yes, a glass, if it would help my bones grow back. It worked for plants. It may work for me, too.

You look at me, puzzled for a few seconds before asking if I am all right.

“Today is a bad day.” I say quietly, “I can feel it in my bones.”

—  Bones | Nikita Gill
One, difficult it may be (a poem)

My heart feels heavy,
They told me to stay gold.
Here I am sinking to the
Bottom of this lazy river,
Drowning on half-ass
Tears that deserve no applaud.
I ache, my muscles swoon.
The one thing I hate more
Than the past is the future.
The crumble, the fall, the ripping
Apart of flesh to bone; tremors
Shaking the ground:
Waves cascading over the
Shores; the moon fading from
Sight.
I can’t conclude.
I cannot suffice this feeling of heaviness.
My chest is falling to the ground:
My ribs cracking from the pressure
Of my essence pouring out into
The damp spring air.
Rain, rain- it looks like rain
But it is only my ocular vision:
Impaired my the Curse of compassion
And fear.
The sun has no business here; and
Forever shall I hope it to swallow
Up the liquid in my bones that keeps
Me from feeling free.
My comfortable coffin feels
More like a tomb tonight; and I shall
Lay here with my head drooped over the empty space I wish occupied you.