Daniel Johnston’s To Go Home is a frequent song that the record needle in my mind keeps playing.
I especially love M. Ward’s expressive version on his album, Post-War.
It’s these lyrics that resonate with me the most.
God, it’s great to be alive
takes the skin right off my hide
to think I’ll have to give it all up someday
It’s funny when you don’t read the lyrics and you hear all sorts of things instead of what is actually written – I hear “takes the skin right off my eyes” not hide. I feel a stubborn loyalty to my mishearing because I like that idea of ripping some kind of obscuring skin off your eyes, an invisible cataract, not being in tune with the eternal present until something jars you into feeling everything at once.
When we lived near the reservoir in Central Park, I used to listen to this song over and over again while running, marveling at being alive.
I thought it again recently when I was in one of the elevators at work by myself and it dropped two floors. My thoughts after No! No! No! was – I’m going to die at work and that’s really going to suck.
A week before this, I had cracked open a fortune cookie that said – “You’re going to realize how fortunate you are soon”.
I mean, C’MON!
Then the next week, another fortune cookie said “When pushed, love digs in its heels.” Which is also eerie and creepy because my novel is called Pushed and basically this fortune is saying if you try to force someone to love you, that person will refuse to love you. I think? Or maybe it means the opposite. Which is weird because one of the main themes of my novel is unrequited love. It might not be that weird if this fortune shows up in the majority of chocolate fortune cookies. Someone might just be fucking with me. Or once I do finish this novel, I might actually be signing my death sentence.