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Not My Bedroom

from H e a d G a m e s by Hokes

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about

I live at the corner of gray street. I’ll paint my front door a different color each season, just so bystanders think something out of the ordinary happens here every once in a while. I question constantly those who think the wonders of the world exist in what is really everyone’s own metropolitan expectation, giving fate more credit than those who create it. And to think when I was born at a time of radical and disastrous democratization, I succumb to this. A daily antidote for the love of fantasy, and a journey to the basement of my merchant less than a stumble away, after pentamerous seclusion. Slam down on the encrusted seams of a torn couch, room full of real go-getters like me, high as a kite, excited as the weeks before. Here’s to us deteriorating these walls that protect us with our own dose of smoked ignorance…

..And every time, I expect a crystal-capped exhale, assuring my sudden keen awareness. This time, my head got heavier than it did in my bed a week ago, and in seconds. In consonance did smoke from everyone tint the full chromatic spectrum, forming a runway to not a crystal but a ream of diamonds. Entangled in her hair, lights circulated around the ring that she formed off her translucent lips, like stars caving in a black hole. The trip of my mind beats the trip in my heart. Three clicks, three disheveled steps, and she’s lost. I was again as helpless as our first gathering, but this time she could see it. Aimless gallivanting in a sea of fantasy. The smoke I barreled through became words lushed from every fairy around, steady on a fringe. At the final peak of periphery did she appear, casting my internal time. And when I think that both gears of my being can temper in synchronicity, dawn breaks. This is not, not…
not my bedroom.

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from H e a d G a m e s, released December 30, 2012

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The Brio Life is a record label and creative house that builds conceptual releases and cinematic experiences through what we call “synaesethetic storytelling.”

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