last night, i went to the movies. afterwards, i came back to my friend's house, where i had been staying for a few days, and i went to the bathroom. i took a few looks at me in the mirror, did my business, and came back to the mirror. i stared for a while. i tried to remember a specific time where i'd been in the mirror with someone and realized a lot of things at the same time...
i'm still hanging on to something.
or i'm falling and trying to grab on.
either way, i was smiling at that mirror, reminding myself that i was with someone in a mirror somewhere. i had a fleeting thought about some movie where the person you're thinking of floats on by and stands next to you, just like in your memory.
(more tunes. e-mail me for these ♫ tunes ♫ or a mix.)
it's 6:00 pm.
so.
out of all the dreams i've been having lately, this one is recurring and hauntingly so.
i'm, again, walking down this hall where the floor is lit and i'm looking at the walls. there is seemingly infinite black, like the abyss, in that direction, but a projection of a story plays out. where i watch myself losing everything and everyone. my hands are holding my hair back and i'm crying profusely and angrily. i see in my face that i can't comprehend anything. that's my worst fear in life - to lose understanding of everything. i even feel bad when i'm oblivious to something. but, anyway, other scenes play out. callbacks. flashbacks.
i've been having this dream for what feels like years. maybe this dream is my future. from this dream, i've been messing with an idea for quite some time. i've wanted to interpret that dream and expound on that feeling. i think i've succeeded or made an alternate idea.
i've modeled it after one of my favorite songs ever recorded by anyone, 'all we have is now' by the flaming lips.
synopsis:
our protagonist is stuck in a monochromatic world, filled with trivialities and blurred reality. nothing matters and nothing will matter. everything means nothing. he's lost in a world that he wanted to a part of. time passes, and he's lost his grip on everything. his coffee cups change color, he walks into invisible walls, etc. he becomes disillusioned with life and life becomes an illusion. everyone's a dream. that is, until the girl of his dreams (literally) comes to his doorstep. his new "neighbor," she brightens and colors what is left of his hope in life and keeps him floating in bliss. he feels better.
but, as things are getting better, he unexpectedly meets himself - that is, a future version of himself. his future self comes to tell him to leave her forever and never look back. this comes as a complete shock to him and he refuses. his future self stresses the importance, stating, "we're not going to make it. you have to leave her."
attributing this as another delusion, he shrugs it off and continues to see her. but as soon as he comes to a happy point in his life, she disappears. everything that proved her existence - pictures, appearances, friends' experiences - all is gone. the pictures have just him in them, and everyone doesn't remember her. she never existed, according to everyone. as he starts to lose his mind and comes to terms with her non-existence, he heads down a downward spiral.
the question to ask - can he change his fate of his own demise?
end synopsis.
ideally, i'm going to do this idea as a film with my friends and work on it for these next few months after christmas, but, i have five people to work on an entire film. even if it doesn't work out, this idea is still something i want to work on - whether a novel, a film with other people, or anything. i've spent too many days reliving this dream that's influenced this idea and part of me wants to make something of it, instead of letting it haunt me. i originally wrote a 400-page .docx, which translates to 500-650 pages in a book.
like i mentioned at the end of my intro post, i think i'll share scenes (filmed or scripted) as it comes together.
i'm perfectly indebted to the friends who want to work on this idea, as i think it'll be fun for us to put together and finish. but i'm fearing we'll start, i'll see some stuff i don't enjoy, or the entire project will never occur. that's worst case scenario. best? we finish the entire project and share it online with all of our friends and random people we know and generate word of mouth. that's what i want out of this film. no dvd's, no physical copies - you e-mail me and i give it to you.
i don't want money for my misery.
p.s. thanks to mobygratis for allowing the usage of 'the broken places' and the ambient mix of 'wait for me' in this film.
(listen while you read? if you don't use spotify, either get it [you won't regret] or e-mail me. i'll hook you up.)
it's 5:29 a.m. where i'm at.
imagine you're in a corridor - dimly lit from under and seemingly infinite.
that's what i dream of nearly every night. in this corridor, i revisit old memories and have visions of subconsciousness and random other excursions. these trips down this hall are usually clearly visible, but obscured by a filter of deep melancholy, like my brain is allowing me to relive my misery over and over. on nights i don't experience this, i sometimes dream of alternate endings to friendships or relationships.
all of this is unwilling - i seem to want to move on past the things that hold me back, but my dreams remind me every night of why i am who i am.
i'm dylan. dylan wayne tracy from oklahoma. i'm a person, just like you. i spend my conscious time listening to, writing about, or "composing" music. i'm as honest as it gets - an open book.
there's a point in my life that i've reached - that moment when you're sprawling around for hope and change. you want things to be different just to taste the other side. you want to go on a journey and never forget. you want to disappear from what you know and dive into unknown waters. you think someone recently introduced to you or the newest thing you've started doing is your ticket out of your life. but i've started to grow cynical of it all. my attempts at trying to change anything have been futile. i've yet to make an impact into something different and have kept routinely living in a groundhog day since returning from my first year of college, which was the worst year of my life that i sometimes miss in certain aspects.
my life's dream is to write about music for a publication (or myself) and be semi-famous about it. you know, where people actually give a shit about what i say about music, even if they don't give a shit about what i say otherwise. but that's a dream.
currently, i just started writing my own music with my friends. what i mean by that - my friend henry writes all the complicated, awesome shit and we go in and try to accompany it with some decent-enough complementary sounds. it works enough to get attention from my friends and they enjoy it enough to say so. part of me hates the idea of sharing this music with our friends because they almost feel obligated to say, "yeah, that was awesome!" but other people i would've never talked to have said they enjoy it. it's whatever. i'm not expecting nu// to take off into the billboard 200 or whatever. we just enjoy sitting around in our apartment, making music we like. if others enjoy it, fuck yes, that's awesome. it would be awesome if we made an album and toured and did all kinds of fun stuff, but we're just writing and releasing whatever demos we can throw together.
but, yeah, that's me. i must admit that i was influenced (or maybe inspired is the right word) by Courtney to start writing something like this. i read her introduction and was staggered (in the best way possible) by her description of her life and how i could draw some parallels. to explain, everything about her "disillusionment" (to use her word) about culture is spot-on with how i feel. her diction has also got to be some of the best i've ever noticed, and comparing to the quite-a-few books i've read, that's a compliment that i hope she enjoys a bit. so, thanks, Courtney.
this blog's purpose is to be a collection of my thoughts about music, film, my life, random things, and hopefully, i'll share some of my creative output (music, scenes from movies, scripts, chapters, etc.). i hope to do this as anonymously as possible, so, if you're my compatriot and you're reading this, be warned. this is my introspect splattered on a massive canvas - the internet. it's written in ink. (now, a scene from my favorite movie of all-time.)
um, if you enjoyed any of this nonsense, e-mail me (cromwelljones@gmail.com) or hit me up on twitter. i'm always up for having a conversation about any of the aforementioned things above.
