#anyway in retrospect the dreams and stuff may have been a child's response to various situations in my extended family at the time

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

I had these weird recurring dreams I had in middle school that I mostly forgot but kept using as fuel for melodramatic daydreams where I was a secret agent slowly dying by poisoning or just me, a kid, dying slowly of brain cancer and it took me like most of a year to figure out that the reason all those angsty middle schooler daydream scenarios I was playing out in my head in the car or in bed at night had a strange edge of deja vu to them because they'd started out as barely remembered dreams. I think it clicked when I was sitting in an airport waiting to board a redeye flight to visit family. there's a certain feeling about sitting in an airport when it's dark out and you're tired. everything is a little bit off. it's a liminal space by definition but as a kid it has a strange melancholy to it that somehow I felt like I'd felt before, and it scared me. it wouldn't get out of my head. I didn't know it them but I was about to spend that entire trip, nearly two weeks, locked in that strange melancholy deja vu darkness. and the thing is that a part of me enjoyed it. was compelled by it. I was scared but it wasn't in a bad way. I called it bad dreams because I didn't have any other words to explain why it made me nervously excited to daydream my own death. it was a feeling of mystery, almost, and bittersweet. but the sweet in that word comes at the end. it was melancholy and I felt like I'd been there before and would die in that feeling. but I always wanted to know more about it. always wondered about the strange recurring dreams and imaginary worlds they sparked. there was always something fascinating about those to me. it always struck something in my emotions that nothing else really can.

and that's what listening to Circa Survive feels like to me