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Wednesday
September 20th, 2028 @ 5:47pm
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mood |
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Sunday
February 24th, 2008 @ 11:28pm
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O'Rourke's, 1:20 A.M. by The Doog Life |
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i guess the reason why i haven't been writing as much as i used to is that i feel like i've said all of this before. everything i write, i've thought and told you before.every fucking heartache, every downfall, every obstacle, every tragedy that holds me down... everything. i guess i can't keep much to myself nowadays. i like talking/writing to get things out of my system so they won't bottle up and explode. I hate it when I start writing something only to realize I've written something similar before. It all feels so trite to me, overdone, better said.
Then I start thinking that maybe I'd like to start keeping things to myself a little more often. I'd like to think I could figure things out on my own just as easily as you could. Just because you're a spectator doesn't mean you'll have the correct response for everything.
But then again, neither do I.
Then I remembered how everything is a cycle. Of course I've thought this before. Nothing is ever a new thought anymore. Someone's already thought the same thing I have before. We go back and forth and back again, but hopefully this time we're a little bit more experienced, better read, more informed. Lets not make the same mistake twice, we can learn from this.
Right now, I'm taking a step back to be better aware of my surroundings.
...then why is it that every time I think I'm doing something right for myself, you make me feel like I'm making the worst mistake of my life?
and I feel more broken than when I started. Completely and utterly speechless, breathless, and apparently heartless. I'm grasping at the ledge, trying to make things right once more, and realizing that maybe this isn't my mistake to correct anymore.
I want to make you
happy but I've fallen,
I'm sorry.
...and i'm wholeheartedly counting down the days for my disappearance.
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Wednesday
February 20th, 2008 @ 10:18pm
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i'm still unhappy. i wouldn't be able to tell you anymore than that, it's all i know.
i still randomly get the stabbing ache in my heart. my heart speeds up and my breath comes in short spurts and it aches and i feel incomplete.
i wish i could explain why. i wish i even knew why. all i know is that it is and it's still happening and i don't think it's going to stop anytime soon.
once again, same old dreams and same old wishes. i physically ache for change.
steph, i really would've loved for you to go to london with me. and for awhile i gave up on it because i wouldn't have someone familiar with me. but i've just realized i can't stop fighting.
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Wednesday
January 23rd, 2008 @ 6:12pm
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music |
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Climbing Up The Walls - Radiohead |
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basically...
this blog has been forced by steph rossano and therefore will show no insight in particular into my life. it's a lazy day, i'd rather not think, so here.
quotes"Sunlight. Like the end of the world. In flashes but not mellow. We swim in schools. Down to the bottom. Down forever. I'm always clearing my throat but I've never got a thing to say. The opposite of a fever. The opposite of perfection. It's only you when I go to sleep and when I wake up...
I know that's a strange way of telling you that I know I'm supposed to love you."
Prozac Nation
"And then there are my friends, and they have their own lives. While they like to talk everything through, to analyze and hypothesize, what I really need, what I’m really looking for, is not something I can articulate. It’s nonverbal: I need love. I need the thing that happens when your brain shuts off and your heart turns on.
And I know it’s around me somewhere, but I just can’t feel it.
What I do feel is the scariness of being an adult, being alone in this big huge loft with so many Cds and plastic bags and magazines and pairs of dirty socks and dirty plates on the floor that I can’t even see the floor. I’m sure that I have nowhere to run, that I can’t even walk anywhere without tripping and falling way down, and I know I want out of this mess. I want out. No one will ever love me, I will live and die alone, I will go nowhere fast, I will be nothing at all. Nothing will work out. The promise that on the other side of depression lies a beautiful life, one worth surviving suicide for, will have turned out wrong. It will all be a big dupe."
The Catcher In The Rye by J.D. Salinger
I'm standing on the edge of some crazy cliff. What I have to do, I have to catch everybody if they start to go over the cliff. I mean if they're running and they don't look where they're going I have to come out from somewhere and catch them. That's all I'd do all day. I'd just be the catcher in the rye and all. I know it's crazy, but that's the only thing I'd really like to be. I know it's crazy.
If you had a million years to do it in, you couldn't rub out even half the 'fuck you' signs in the world.
Harry Potter & The Half-Blood Prince by J.K. Rowling
Voldemort himself created his worst enemy, just as tyrants everywhere do! Have you any idea how much tyrants fear the people they oppress? All of them realize that, one day, amongst their many victims, there is sure to be one...
The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath
When they asked some old Roman philosopher or other how he wanted to die, he said he would open his veins in a warm bath. I thought it would be easy, lying in the tub and seeing the redness flower from my wrists, flush after flush through the clear water, till I sank to sleep under a surf gaudy as poppies.
Mad Girl's Love Song by Sylvia Plath
"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)
The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)
God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)
I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)"
Watchmen by Alan Moore
Rorshach's Journal. October 12th, 1985. Dog carcass in alley this morning, tire tread on burst stomach. This city is afraid of me. I have seen it's true fate. The streets are extended gutters and the gutters are full of blood and when the drains finally scab over, all the vermin will drown
Stranger In a Strange Land by Robert A. Heinlein
Christ was crucified for preaching without a police permit. Sweat over that, instead!
A Separate Peace by John Knowles
I felt fear's echo, and along with that I felt the unhinged, uncontrollable joy which had been its accompaniment and opposite face, joy which had broken out sometimes in those days like Northern Lights across black sky.
Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison
I never told you, but our life is a war and I have been a traitor all my born days, days, a spy in the enemy's country ever since I give up my gun back in the reconstruction. Live with your head in the lion's mouth.
Howl by Ralph Ellison
Moloch! Moloch! Robot apartments! Invisible suburbs! skeleton treasuries! blind capitals! demonic industries! spectral nations! invincible mad houses! granite cocks! monstrous bombs!
The Grapes of Wrath
Rattlesnakes! Don't take chances with 'em, an' if they argue, shoot first. If a kid'll kill a cop, what'll the men do? Thing is, get tougher 'n they are. Treat 'em rough. Scare 'em.
Equus
There is now, in my mouth, this sharp chain. And it never comes out.
Catch-22
Open your eyes, Clevinger. It doesn't make a damned bit of difference who wins the war to someone who's dead.
Wicked
So he stalked her again, love makes hunters of us all.
Hamlet by Shakespeare
To sleep, perchance to dream. Ay, there's the rub.
Romeo & Juliet by Shakespeare
Death, that hath sucked the honey of thy breath, hath had no power yet upon thy beauty."
Siddartha by Herman Hesse
"They all became part of the river. It was the goal of all of them, yearning, desiring, suffering; and the river's voice was full of longing, full of smarting woe, full of insatiable desire. The river flowed on towards to it's goal. Siddartha saw the river hasten, made up of himself and his relatives and all the people he had ever seen. All the waves and water hastened, suffering, towards goals, many goals, to the waterfall, to the sea, to the current, to the ocean and all the goals were reached and each one was succeeded by another. The water changed to vapour and rose, became rain and came down again, became spring, brook and river, changed anew, flowed anew. But the yearning voice had altered. It still echoed sorrowfully, searchingly but other voices accompanied it, voices of pleasure and sorrow, good and evil voices, laughing and lamenting voices, hundreds of voices, thousands of voices............."
The Tear Garden
Me I have my cross to bear
It's twisted Flying through the Air
That voices that I hear
are muffled... Theres no one left but me, to share their secrets
I'm chasing trails of Hollow
Promises. And it's lonely here
I'm kept alive (somehow) I stay tranquilised
I leave - I never quite arrive. Your
precious smile is fading.
I'd love to think that there's an end...
just waiting right around the bend.
but every turn's a tunnel.
I descend. I'm the Running Man.
"Hope is a bad thing. It means you are not what you want to be.
It means that part of you is dead, if not all of you. It means that you
entertain illusions."
-Henry Miller
(1891-1980)
If there's delight in love, 'tis when I see that heart, which others bleed for, bleeds for me.
-William Congreve
The pleasure of love is in loving; we are happier in the passion we feel than in that we inspire.
-La Rochefoucald
Tell me dearest, what is love?
'T is a lightning from above;
'T is an arrow, 't is a fire,
'T is a boy they call desire
-Beaumont and Fletcher
"How happy is the blameless Vestal's lot! The world forgetting, by the world forgot. Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind! Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd."
- Alexander Pope
"We have a natural right to make use of our pens as of our tongues, at our peril, risk and hazard."
-Voltaire
"I am kind of a paranoic in reverse. I suspect people of plotting to make me happy."
J.D. Salinger
"Most people gaze neither into the past nor the future; they explore neither truth nor lies. They gaze at the television."
"It occurs to him that if he died that night he would die happy. Because he was loved."
THERE THERE (THE BONEY KING OF NOWHERE) by radiohead
why so green
and lonely?
heaven sent you to me
we are accidents
waiting
waiting to happen
we are accidents
waiting
waiting to happen
KITE by copeland
"...all through the twilight you're listening for me.
darling, go to sleep.
cradled by moonlight i'm dreaming we'll be,
loved so deep.
...i'm beside myself for the touch of your lips
or the grace of your eyes that can see good in me.
floating and fighting like a kite on a string
...and when they say that i'm just a terrible kite
you'll tell them you're proud of my marvelous flight."
from the Twilight Saga by Stephenie Meyer
love is irrational. the more you love someone, the less sense anything makes.
"If you could have anything in the world, anything at all, what would it be?"
I could feel the skepticism in my eyes. "You."
He shook his head impatiently. "Something you don't already have."
Before you, my life was like a moonless night. Very dark, but there were stars--points of light and reason. ...And then you shot across my sky like a meteor. Suddenly everything was on fire; there was brilliancy, there was beauty. When you were gone, when the meteor had fallen over the horizon, everything went black. Nothing had changed, but my eyes were blinded by the light. I couldn't see the stars anymore. And there was no more reason for anything.
"Do you really have any idea how important you are to me? Any concept at all of how much I love you?" He pulled me tighter against his hard chest, tucking my head under his chin.
I pressed my lips against his snow-cold neck. "I know how much I love you," I answered.
"You compare one small tree to the entire forest."
If I could dream at all, it would be about you. And I'm not ashamed of it.
The Wake by Neil Gaiman
"Birds of a thousand colors danced in the sky when I was a boy. They brightened the day with their intricate songs. "We are who we choose to be," sang the goldfinch, when the sun was high. "I dream about dreams about dreams," sang the nightingale, under the pale moon."
"Will you take me to the King of Dreams?" "You would not seek to question a poem, or a falling leaf, or the mist on the mountaintop," said the raven. "Why, then, do you question me?" From your reply, I presume you are a poet. "I serve the King of All Nights Dreaming and I do his bidding." It flopped its wings and fluttered up, to land on a screen, so it was level with the monk's head. "But you are correct. Once, I was a poet, and like all poets, I spent too long in the Kingdom of Dreams." Elliott SmithI'm never going to know you now, but I'm going to love you anyhow |
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Monday
December 31st, 2007 @ 2:14pm
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music |
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Piazza, New York Catcher - Belle & Sebastian |
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good bye 'o7, hello 'o8!
now is the time to live.
bonne chance!
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Sunday
December 2nd, 2007 @ 4:08pm
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i am trying to believe.
fuck the world.
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Monday
October 15th, 2007 @ 1:03am
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street spirit (fade out)
rows of houses all bearing down on me
i can feel their blue hands touching me
all these things in all positions
all these things will one day take control
and fade out again and fade out
this machine will will not communicate these thoughts
and the strain i am under
be a world child form a circle before we all go under
and fade out again and fade out again
cracked eggs dead birds
scream as they fight for life
i can feel death can see it's beady eyes
all these things into frution
all these things we'll one day swallow whole
and fade out again and fade out again.
Quote from Thom:
"'Street Spirit' is our purest song, but I didn't write it.... It wrote itself. We were just its messengers... Its biological catylysts. It's core is a complete mystery to me... and (pause) you know, I wouldn't ever try to write something that hopeless... All of our saddest songs have somewhere in them at least a glimmer of resolve... 'Street Spirit' has no resolve... It is the dark tunnel without the light at the end. It represents all tragic emotion that is so hurtful that the sound of that melody is its only definition. We all have a way of dealing with that song... It's called detachment... Especially me.. I detach my emotional radar from that song, or I couldn't play it... I'd crack. I'd break down on stage.. that's why its lyrics are just a bunch of mini-stories or visual images as opposed to a cohesive explanation of its meaning... I used images set to the music that I thought would convey the emotional entirety of the lyric and music working together... That's what's meant by 'all these things are one to swallow whole'.. I meant the emotional entirety, because I didn't have it in me to articulate the emotion... (pause) I'd crack.... Our fans are braver than I to let that song penetrate them, or maybe they don't realize what they're listening to.. They don't realize that 'Street Spirit' is about staring the fucking devil right in the eyes... and knowing, no matter what the hell you do, he'll get the last laugh...and it's real...and true. The devil really will get the last laugh in all cases without exception, and if I let myself think about that to long, I'd crack. I can't believe we have fans that can deal emotionally with that song... That's why I'm convinced that they don't know what it's about. It's why we play it towards the end of our sets. It drains me, and it shakes me, and hurts like hell everytime I play it, looking out at thousands of people cheering and smiling, oblivious to the tragedy of it's meaning, like when you're going to have your dog put down and it's wagging it's tail on the way there. That's what they all look like, and it breaks my heart.
I wish that song hadn't picked us as its catalysts, and so I don't claim it. It asks too much. (very long pause). I didn't write that song."
seen live, this and Videotape will leave me bawling.
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Thursday
September 20th, 2007 @ 9:49am
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mood |
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chipper |
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autumn shade.
it has begun. living in California kind of sucks; it goes straight from being a blazing inferno into wetlands. where's Autumn? where are all the crisp orange and brown leaves? i'll never understand why california weather always seems to skip right over the most seemingly pleasant season. oh well. okay. i'll take what i can get, i suppose.
if only it snowed here.
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Sunday
September 16th, 2007 @ 8:41pm
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mood |
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optimistic |
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note to self:stop. inhale. exhale. just breathe.
everything will work out in the end.
preferably, before death hits.
regardless,
everything work out in the end.
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Friday
September 14th, 2007 @ 11:32pm
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mood |
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sad |
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I am in need of....new headphones. =/
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