Last night was my first upstairs. It was pouring thunder, and I spent an hour on the telephone with Jocelyne comparing flashes -- "Did you see that one?" "Yep." Flash, crack, explosion.
I wasn't going to try and sleep after I left her, and it was only ten so I decided to try something -- listening to music in bed in the dark in a silent house outside of which a storm rages, its fury torrential. I think lying there with Smoke on the Water playing very softly into my ears was one of the most peaceful moments ever.
During the second song, something strange happened. I must have been in a halfdreaming state (which is pretty typical, come to think of it) because when I look back on it now the only other conclusion I can draw is that I'm not quite right in the head -- and that could be too hopeful a prospect for me to consider. I was there, eyes shut, and who swims into view above my face? Syd Barrett...you know those shots of him in the round shades? No? Well, anyway...he smiled, reached out an arm to me. And I put my arm forward until it touched his
-- of course, he faded.
The lightening flashed. The music changed. And I was left there, alone in the dark, beginning to think about the soundscape.
It would be some more hours, during which I went on a lemming-style rampage and lost a battle to the air conditioner, before I slept. If dreaming is still possible, I hope I never wake up.
I do believe in evil. I even believe in good.
1 comment:
Wow. That was seriously an amazing post. Even though I have no particular interest in Syd Barett, and his life (and death) has not in the slightest bit moved me...I must say that I can seriously read this and be in shock. It must be due to your superior writing skills...
I like thunder storms.
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