Monday, June 29, 2009


last night i had a revelation of sorts. 
i want to go to memphis. 
it's not that this is the first time that i have felt inclined to go to this beautiful place
(i've wanted to since i was little and  was infatuated with Elvis). 
but this time around, at the age of 24
i want to go for very different reasons. 
it's funny, although i am now infatuated with a different person
i still want to go see this new land for the same reason:
i have been obsessed with Jeff Buckley for the past 2 years. 
I happened to fumble upon him while flipping through the artist cards at my old job, Dimple Records. 
I had certainly heard of him and was instantly attracted to his album cover (his face and body donned "Elvis 1960's")
but had never heard him sing. 
once i heard him sing, i was fucking thrown into a whole other realm where no one else 
existed (for a good few months).
he was all i wanted to think about, read about, listen to, 
dream about. 
fast forward to 2 years and this hasan't gone away. i can listen to him for days on end.
i try to look through my ipod while on walks, searching for a new sound, but end up 
excited (yet again) for when his name scrawls on the screen. 
nothing excites me like his music does. 

i want to go to memphis to see where he last lived. the house (yes) even. 
but i am more looking to go to Wolf River, the place where he died.
some may say that this is morose, childish even
but i am really set on visiting this place. 
i do not know why i feel so compelled.
maybe it's why people visit grave sites religiously
or why mothers keep their deceased children's rooms intact,
but i feel like i have to go to this place
to pay some sort of silent respect.

also, it will become more real to me that this body of water
could truly be 
his unlikely assassin. 

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