it's not yet new year's, but i just can't stop thinking about this poem

he would recite this poem and i would watch him. not through the crowd but through a dark and grainy copy of that night. it was probably new year's in new york, in a venue whose name was rather new and yet familiar to me. sin-e. i would think about that video every now and then, and i would think about his words every so often.

a poem. a prayer. for his lover. for the people in that cafe. 

it's not yet 2025, but i am posting this one to remind me once the new year finally arrives. to recite this prayer. for me and for you. let me pray for us.

you my love are allowed to forget about the christmas you just spent stressed out in your parents house

you my love are allowed to shed the weight of all the years before like bad disco clothes, save them for a night of dancing, stoned with you lover

you my love are allowed to let yourself drown every night in bottomless wild and naked symbolic dreams

you my love in sleep can unlock your youth and your most terrifying magic and dreaming is for the courageous

you my love are allowed to grab my guitar and sing me idiot love songs if

you lost your ability to speak, keep it down to two minutes

you my love are allowed to rot and to die and to live again more alive and incandescent than before

you my love are allowed to beat the shit out of your television, choke it's thoughts and corrupt its mind kill kill kill kill the motherf**ker before the song of zombiefied pain and panic and malaise and its narrow right winged vision and its cheap commercial gang r*pe becomes the white noise of the world (turn about is fair play)

you my love are allowed to forgive and love your television

you my love are allowed to speak in kisses to those around you and those up in heaven

you my love are allowed to show your babies how to dance full bodied, starry eyed, audacious, supernatural and glorified

you my love are allowed to suck in every single endeavor

you my love are allowed to be soaked like a lovers blanket in the New York summertime with the wonder of your own special gift

you my love are allowed to receive praise

you my love are allowed to have time

you my love are allowed to understand

you my love are allowed to love

woman disobey

little man believe

you my love are a rebellion

- Jeff Buckley, "New Year's Eve Prayer"

i do wish i got to see him read this in front of the crowd. i wish a lot of things. and all this wishing just reminds me of how time is somehow fleeting yet eternal. moments like these, recordings of dead artists inspiring us, makes me want to pick up my phone and record every second. but let me stop there before i make a fool of myself. our digital footprint is forever. 

although perhaps my problem does not lie on being recorded, but on the idea of being remembered. 

serious thoughts aside; jeff buckley u're a treasure, forever will be missed!