Spring is manipulative. It has all these subtle hints and suggestions that you should start raising your metabolic rate and come out of your apartments, when in fact, it's just teasing. I always remember it being this way too, I hated spring for the way she would trick my friends and my soaked socks. Spring is a first girlfriend. Romanicized by those on the proverbial "other side of the fence" but really the grass isn't even green yet. Because spring, with it's clumsiness and awkward haste hasn't allowed us to photosynthesize properly. This is why I've always though that if you're going to make a bad decision, spring is the time to do it. Everyone's crazy. Here is a poem that I think captures how crazy everyone looks running around trying to have sex with one another. It is by William Blake:
The Question Answered
What is it men in women do require?
The lineaments of gratified Desire.
What is it women do in men require?
The lineaments of gratified Desire
I don't why the lack of the aforementioned photosynthesis has so many people charged romantically. And believe me, blog readers, I am no exeption, but I still think that it's one of those tricks Spring is playing on us. I could pontificate for pages about how everything is oh so beautiful, and how blossoming flowers could represent new relationships. The squirrels and birds would be mating, and I could make note of their innocence. But are they the lineaments of possibility, or just a grander "first warmth" that is to say, a transient bait to lure everyone out of their comfortability, only to be hit with Fall's reality? and by whom? Fortuna? the squirrels themselves?
I've concluded the answer dosn't matter. There is a certain honesty in the nervous allure of spring romance, however fleeting. One night stands, instead of lonley bodies grasping for satisfaction, become admition to vulnerability. All of springs cliches, grass, squirrels, even the fucking flowers exist because we allow them to. And it's okay.
I saw the band Deerhunter last night. They were crazy. My favourite part was when the singer, skin and bones and dressed in a wedding dress, told the audience that he wished to be cremated when he died. The ashes, he told us quite matter-of-factly, were to be masturbated into by one hundred twelve year old boys and the resulting mixture of ash and cum to be spread upon our faces. It seems like Cryptograms is pretty hot shit right now, so I'll upload their newer Fluorescent Grey EP, recorded during the mixing of Cryptograms. It's more concentrated and focused than Cryptograms, while still retaining that radiant, shoegazy quality. Hope you have WinRAR:
Deerhunter - Fluorescent Grey