פוסט אישי מאת ניצן היקרה, שנכתב באנגלית משום מה וכולו מוקדש ללהקה הגדולה שהודיעה לא מזמן על פירוקה – REM.
I watch “Perfect Circle” from the 1991 MTV unplugged on my VCR. It was magically aired on VH1 some late night. I need to draw stipe immediately. The drawing seems too girlish, so delicate I sense that if he could step out of it he would break. He would be weightless.
If the word “susceptible” had a sound, this would be it. I want to be in that room, with the one million green lights. I visit Maria Calas grave in Paris. Who is the old lady beyond stipe’s voice? I was charmed because she looks like a man.
He seems to have no skin. It’s so natural seeing him bare, shirtless on the artificially red bed. Is it supposed to be the color of blood? I love seeing my own stories reflect through him. His prayers are always also my own.
Micheal Stipe walks near my bus station. He looks at me and I take my UP cd out of my beloved red discman (it still works) and ask him to sign it. He smiles and walks away.