silence

the day was overcast throughout. I drove a friend on an errand to the Thousand Oaks mall. After a pizza lunch we stood in the parking lot under the freeway talking about the ghosts of Camarillo. Later I drove my father to the hospital where the nurses had a private, sterile room set up for him while they run some tests. After that I took my time heading toward school, where I did fair on a test of descending/ascending market trends.

Now I have the XX on the headset. Anton Corbijn's "Control" on the tv. I'm editing video of sand dunes and eucalyptus treetops. There are not enough slow, sad guitars to fill the space between these objects. I need to hear a Stratocaster on a slow burn, in amongst what I imagine to be very real ghosts. I won't be able to sleep yet. Slow electric hush, please.

The empty hallways of the mental hospital, the wail of strings. It's good to keep the drums quiet, every now and again.