"Where the air was so clear,
Oh, if you what it meant to me.
Oh, the unspeakable things”
I woke up to seeing this beautiful song/video on Lindsay’s wall. It’s called “Daydreaming” by Dark Dark Dark. I highly suggest watching the video, too.
As far as we’re concerned, the best things we experience in life, and the things we love the most, and whatever we find most beautiful, we will be unable to talk about. We won’t be able to name it. It’s the unnameable, unspeakable things that stick in your brain forever precisely for the fact that they are unnameable.
We talked about this in my Emerson class with Prof Birns.
I don’t love Hobart because it’s “scenic”. I love it because I can walk down certain streets and my thoughts fall away and it seems like there is nothing left to do here. There is no word for that. There are words that maybe, kind of, explain it, but it’d be impossible to sum it all up with words. I mean, even if I spent all day trying to explain, I wouldn’t be able to recreate the feelings or the reasons and present them to you. Even if I was the best writer in the world.
I don’t love your smile; I love the way that I can tell I make you nervous when you smile. There’s no word for that. There are “words” to kind of explain it, but there’s no word for the feeling I get when I see it.
I didn’t love your long hair. I didn’t even love it just because it was “stringy”. I loved it because every time you pushed your hair behind your ears I could tell that you didn’t know how wonderful you were and I could tell that it meant you were aware that people would be thinking things about you. I can’t find a word for that. I can’t find a word for the reason why I connected to that, hung on to it, loved it. I don’t fucking know. Language is inadequate for anything you can think about for years and re-feel. Language is inadequate but it’s all we got.