Sunday, 1 January 2017

still river

"The best thing, though, in that museum was that everything always stayed right where it was. Nobody'd move.

You could go there a hundred thousand times, and that Eskimo would still be just finished catching those two fish, the birds would still be on their way south, the deers would still be drinking out of that water hole, with their pretty antlers and their pretty, skinny legs, and that squaw with the naked bosom would still be weaving that same blanket. Nobody'd be different.

The only thing that would be different would be you.

Not that you'd be so much older or anything. It wouldn't be that, exactly. You'd just be different, that's all.

You'd have an overcoat on this time. Or the kid that was your partner in line the last time had got scarlet fever and you'd have a new partner. Or you'd have a substitute taking the class, instead of Miss Aigletinger. Or you'd heard your mother and father having a terrific fight in the bathroom. Or you'd just passed by one of those puddles in the street with gasoline rainbows in them.

 I mean you'd be different in some way-I can't explain what I mean. And even if I could, I'm not sure I'd feel like it.

I took my old hunting hat out of my pocket while I walked, and put it on. I knew I wouldn't meet anybody that knew me, and it was pretty damp out. I kept walking and walking, and I kept thinking about old Phoebe going to that museum on Saturdays the way I used to. I thought how she'd be different every time she saw it.

It didn't exactly depress me to think about it, but it didn't make me feel gay as hell, either. Certain things they should stay the way they are. You ought to be able to stick them in one of those big glass cases and just leave them alone. I know that's impossible, but it's too bad anyway. Anyway, I kept thinking about all that while I walked."

- Catcher In The Rye.

 Butterfingers - Still River

 Baby baby you better be under control
So don't lose out low
Name name me the other one for once
I recall so do me a favor

up rise the waterfall
Wetting my eyes
I've lost my own sight but
At least for a while
Just as long as I cry

I've got everything
At least for a while
Just as long as I'm gone

Dive dive in your afterlife come back
Alive and let go the fear
Save I say the other one again I recall
So do me a favor

I've got it done..


It was noisy in the first 20 minutes of new year 2017 with firecrackers.

Then it was quiet again. But there were no stars. It was misty.

The feeling of the coming 2017 is being hopeful that the night sky will become crystal clear after the mist. Everybody I saw in the social media is hopeful. They are reminiscing, and in the same time, hopeful.

It's not that I'm not hopeful. It's just that I'm not that hopeful.

Maybe I'm trapped in time. By every minute, every seconds of my living breath. Like a still river.

Tonight, I don't want to remind myself so much about 2016. Whether it's sweet or bitter.

"D.B. asked me what I thought about all this stuff I just finished telling you about. I didn't know what the hell to say. If you want to know the truth, I don't know what I think about it. 

I'm sorry I told so many people about it. All I know about it is, I sort of miss everybody I told about. Even old Stradlater and Ackley, for instance. I think I even miss that goddam Maurice. It's funny. Don't ever tell anybody anything. If you do, you start missing everybody."

- Catcher In The Rye, again.

Good night and Happy New Year 2017.