The storytelling.
The storytelling.
Those are the words. They were there, prominent, right at the front of my brain when I reached for the journal and pen beside my bed.
I was thinking about the song, “Romeo and Juliet,” originally recorded by Dire Straits in the 1980s (the video is a hell of a thing), but the version I love (and listen to far too often) is Mark Knopfler’s, as he performs it on tour with Emmylou Harris (but Emmylou must be backstage doing whatever needs doing for this particular number). It’s haunting and beautiful, and the story in the song is Shakespeare’s, but it’s also Knopfler’s.
Juliet, the dice were loaded from the start,
And I bet that you exploded in my heart
And I forget, I forget the way we used to be.
…
Juliet, when we made love, you used to cry.
You said, “I love you like the stars above;
I love you till I die.
And there’s a place for us
…
You know the movie song.
When you gonna realize,
It was just the time was wrong?
Juliet.
…
A lovestruck Romeo,
O solo mio serenade
Laying everybody low
With the love songs that he made.
…
All I do is miss you
And the way we used to be.
All I do is keep the beat,
Rock-n-roll company.
All I do is kiss you
Through the bars of a rhyme.
Julie, I’d do the stars with you, baby,
any time.
Don’t quote me. I know I’ve mixed it all up, but no matter. I listen, and the words go round and round, in and out of my consciousness. There are two lines, though, that stand out: “All I do is kiss you / Through the bars of a rhyme.” Those are the words I wait for.
Words.
Words.
Words.
“What are you doing?”
“Eating words, m’Lord.”
Where does that come from? Why does it play in my head every now and again, spoken with a British accent of some sort. Is it Shakespeare again?
Questions: here’s one.
Why was I dreaming about an art dealer of some sort that I didn’t trust? Was it art I had contacted him about? I don’t think so. Antiques, maybe.
Okay. Wait. I think I can answer those questions (the first one, anyway). The dream was seeded in my mind by Rachel and that sleezy Rainaldi (love the name, though). Phillip (one L or two? Why do I always question that now? It was two L’s in my mind forever.)
But the dreams were just the same.
I dreamed you dream for you,
And now your dream is real.
When am I gonna realize
I was just another one of your deals?
Now you can fall for chains of silver;
You can fall for chains of gold.
You can fall for pretty strangers
and the promises they hold.
Maybe the song started my dream. It’s the last one I listened to before I went upstairs for the night. Isn’t it? Who knows?
Anyway, what are you gonna do about it?