It's more than rain that falls on our parade tonight
It's more than thunder it's more than thunder
And it's more than a bad dream now that I'm sober
Nothing but sad times, nothing but sad times
P.S
and I think Tom will join us too:
At least it couldn't get much worse
Now I am going home to be with the humans. Or not. I guess I'll just listen to Radiohead and Nick Cave tonight. It seems right. Be the judge...
Radio:
Radio:
the emptiest of feelings,Nicky:
disappointed people, clinging on to bottles,
and when it comes it's so, so, disappointing.
Let down and hanging around,
crushed like a bug in the ground.
Let down and hanging around.
Shell smashed, juices flowing
wings twitch, legs are going,
don't get sentimental, it always ends up drivel.
One day, I'm gonna grow wings,
a chemical reaction,
hysterical and useless
l hold d this letter in my hand
A plea of petition, a kind of prayer
I hope it does as I have planned
Losing her again is more than I can bear
I kiss the cold white envelope
Press my lips against her name
Two hundred words, we live in hope
The sky hangs heavy with rain
Love letter, love letter
Go get her, go get her
Love letter, love letter
Go tell her, go tell her
Breaking up is hard to do
A broken mirror
Seven years of bad luck
Or just a more fascinating mosaïc
Jagged shards
In the hard ceramic
Can I see pieces of myself
Pick up the phone!
Someone detonate a bomb
I need to stop this ringing in my head
No, listen
The crescendo of breaking glass
Becomes a steady rain, a grey fabric of sound
This is the way
We will always be broken
Pieces trying to remember a whole
And there never was
More than just
A memory
---
Seven years of bad luck
Or just a more fascinating mosaïc
Jagged shards
In the hard ceramic
Can I see pieces of myself
Pick up the phone!
Someone detonate a bomb
I need to stop this ringing in my head
No, listen
The crescendo of breaking glass
Becomes a steady rain, a grey fabric of sound
This is the way
We will always be broken
Pieces trying to remember a whole
And there never was
More than just
A memory
---
She came (through in the end)
I wish that I could spend all my time making up song titles.
--
Call me (your bitch)
--
Call me (your bitch)
Standard Issues
Not thinking about her can last up to 5 minutes. Thinking about her can last a lot longer. A wiser fella than myself once told me, "If you feel in control you're not going fast enough". Yet, speed has absolutely nothing to do with the way I am feeling. Never could I imagine walking so slowly into the jaws of the Wolf. And I am, by lengths, out of control, out of my depths.
when
I
fall
.
A veces soy yo que tiene el poder
A veces soy yo que tiene que seguir, que adaptar, que soñar de lo que no tengo
A veces el viento porta tu cometa hasta el techo de los cielos
A veces, te lo roba, y te lo porta hasta los fuegos matadores del sol
Pero... una vida sin volar, sin elevarse?
No es posible
No es pensible
Sea horrible
---
Far be it from me to complain about a lack of friends. I feel i have so many that (mutual?) neglect is almost necessary from time to time, and never really an issue of blame. But right now I am feeling that there is just an empty window for me to lean against, a chilly glass pane with little or no sympathy for my quandaries. So many friends, but at that exact moment when i turn my head, all are far away, beyond crying distance, or wrapped in their own personal ball of yarn. there is, for me, an a great advantage with having your friends close enough to be involved in your life, without questions or confessionals, just that day-to-day contact that makes understanding implicit, second nature, and topic is always second to tone.
In short: I wish you were here/I wish you weren't so busy, cuz I could use some breathing closer to me.
"Demandez-vous belle JeunesseBut, I am still going. Shoot me, will you, if yours is a desire to keep me from suffering. But if, if you love me, and want my souls freedom to travel rather than keep it under some Patriot Act restrictions, just walk by me and lay pillow out where I may land,
Le temps de l'ombre d'un souvenir
Le temps de souffle d'un soupire"
when
I
fall
.
A veces soy yo que tiene el poder
A veces soy yo que tiene que seguir, que adaptar, que soñar de lo que no tengo
A veces el viento porta tu cometa hasta el techo de los cielos
A veces, te lo roba, y te lo porta hasta los fuegos matadores del sol
Pero... una vida sin volar, sin elevarse?
No es posible
No es pensible
Sea horrible
---
There's a tough word on your crossworda lot of great music. just to mention what I am listening to these days; still violently into and impressed by In your Honor by Foo Fighters - a truly great rock album. The decemberists are amazingly queer (not gay(not happy and glad)) and with good songs, listening to album picaresque. Then there's always - seems like a 2005 thing - some Tom Waits coming back to haunt me. Right now mostly Closing Time, and Heart of Saturday Night. Lately there's also been the Streets (revisited), Bloc Party, Company Flow and probably some old bullsh*t.
There's a bed bug nipping a finger
There's a swallow, there's a calm
Here's a hand to lay on your open palm
today
---
Far be it from me to complain about a lack of friends. I feel i have so many that (mutual?) neglect is almost necessary from time to time, and never really an issue of blame. But right now I am feeling that there is just an empty window for me to lean against, a chilly glass pane with little or no sympathy for my quandaries. So many friends, but at that exact moment when i turn my head, all are far away, beyond crying distance, or wrapped in their own personal ball of yarn. there is, for me, an a great advantage with having your friends close enough to be involved in your life, without questions or confessionals, just that day-to-day contact that makes understanding implicit, second nature, and topic is always second to tone.
In short: I wish you were here/I wish you weren't so busy, cuz I could use some breathing closer to me.
But, oh, what providence
What divine intelligence
That you should survive
As well as me
It gives my eye great joy
To see your eyes fill with fear
To lean in close
And I will whisper
The last words you'll hear
Let's go. Down the waterfall.
so, the coolest thing happend to me the other day. I was biking home from the land of confusion and I passed the bus stop where we will move in a few weeks. glancing at the seat through the pane glass window I notice something lying on it, and I think it just looked too deliberate to be trash. so i stopped, turned around and checked it out. wrapped in a plastic bag was a book. i peered down at the book, glanced around to see if anyone was observing me (no, no one around, no one in windows), and decided that i should take it. it was a Terry Pratchett book, and I've always been curious of his work. on my remaining way home i formulated a plan of how i would post a note at the bus stop saying that if someone had lost a book they should contact me to get it back. feeling like an honest cleptomaniac i smiled around the corner and parked my rusty POS in front of the door.
but when i took a closer look at the book, inside the front cover there was a sticker. it was a BOOKCROSSING book! so cool, the game is that you buy a book, register it at www.bookcrossing.com, and then you release it into the wild, letting the book travel from hand to hand wherever it may want to go. and you can follow it on the net. so fabulous.
so now i am reading "equal rites" by terry pratchett, and then I will release it into the wild. maybe in paris, maybe in umeå. we'll see.
but when i took a closer look at the book, inside the front cover there was a sticker. it was a BOOKCROSSING book! so cool, the game is that you buy a book, register it at www.bookcrossing.com, and then you release it into the wild, letting the book travel from hand to hand wherever it may want to go. and you can follow it on the net. so fabulous.
so now i am reading "equal rites" by terry pratchett, and then I will release it into the wild. maybe in paris, maybe in umeå. we'll see.
Counselor Bob
"I got a helicopter pad on the roof, and snipers in the other building to make sure no one steals my helicopter."
A tick of the clock
And then she died from a stroke of genious...
Two people sitting across a room is one thing, one doesn't want to leave, one can't make the other stay
Two people sitting next to each other on a bed, is all it takes, to stop thinking, stop talking. If one wasn't so beautiful the other could step away. But doesn't. Time can stretch when you stretch out on a bed, a rise and fall of lips like the ocean. Waves don't stop, they just have peaks and valleys, calm valleys and peaks that crash over you and make you tumble, make you cold, make you wet.
One wants to stop before everything crashes.
One wants to build a home lifting stones from each others chests.
Two people sitting across a room is one thing, one doesn't want to leave, one can't make the other stay
Two people sitting next to each other on a bed, is all it takes, to stop thinking, stop talking. If one wasn't so beautiful the other could step away. But doesn't. Time can stretch when you stretch out on a bed, a rise and fall of lips like the ocean. Waves don't stop, they just have peaks and valleys, calm valleys and peaks that crash over you and make you tumble, make you cold, make you wet.
One wants to stop before everything crashes.
One wants to build a home lifting stones from each others chests.
30 silver coins
At the age of 25 I realised I was invincible
"It's always like this", he tells himself. "First the Fear and then a rush of Courage and the clean sweet feeling of Being Born."Abandon all hope, tonight I will come to you as the Betrayer. I will sit at your side, my shoulder will be your crutch when you are ill, when you are tired I shall carry you, and when you most need me I will kill you with a kiss. For allthough you are the Savior, I want cash for a new digital camera.
You can't hug your children with nuclear arms
I heart Banksy. I heart Stanley Donwood.
That show I went to that was amazing held the following artists. Eine, 3D, Mode2, Jamie Hewlett, Dolk Lundgren, Insect och D'Face och Sickboy. They can be found on the internet. I recommend you check out www.banksy.co.uk.
That show I went to that was amazing held the following artists. Eine, 3D, Mode2, Jamie Hewlett, Dolk Lundgren, Insect och D'Face och Sickboy. They can be found on the internet. I recommend you check out www.banksy.co.uk.
The who's who of Scotland
These are the guys that shared my Scottish Experience. Don't they look cute?
Im a fool, who's tool is small
Some say we'll see armageddon soon.
I certainly hope we will.
I sure could use a vacation from this
bull-shit three-ring circus side-show of freaks
For I am Donnie Darko
If the sky were to suddenly open up there would be no law. There would be no rule. There would only be you and your memories… the choices you’ve made, and the people you’ve touched. If this world were to end there would only be you and him and no-one else.
Mmmmm.. i had a good night last night...
-
Stopping by, as if by chance.
I can't get my fingers through her hair.
I can't take my eyes off her face.
I can't imagine this.
So it must be true.
"You're a good kisser and I'm a fast learner".
-
What to do tonight? Maybe at home maybe at pub for beers. I feel like beer.
The gravity of light
Regarding the kill the badger post, it's just one of those lines that have gotten stuck with me. It's not that I feel that this story in any way motivates or even relates that much to vegetarianism, but that punchline
The badger just wanted to romp and play, and he gets shot with a .45 government issue. Contact that. Identify with that. Feel that. And ask yourself. Whose life is worth more? The badger, or this evil piece of white shit?is just incredible... I'll not comment any further, cause I can't really articulate my thoughts.
Blammo!
I keep considering and reconsidering whether to try producing "valuable" content while blogging or to just blablabla whatever I feel like. What do you think?
-
So, I had a great weekend. Did some excellent second hand shopping, purchasing a) a Hat, which reminds me partly of the hat the Edge wore in the early U2 years and partly reminds me of the amish, b) a Rug ("he told me to take any rug in the house") which is dark blueish, oriental and so soft it will be great for lying on my back and listening to bowling championships, and c) a pair of snug-fitting, great looking, tan pants, with a slight 70s look.
I also had a very holidayesque lunch on satiday, with a pint of guinness at the local Irish pub. I also bought a poker-set, so now anyone who comes around is welcome to join me for a game of Texas Hold'em.
Agreat deal of the weekend hours were spent in the dark room, developing some films and making photos. Some good, none great. It's great fun making photos, but the process is just way to slow for me. Way to much time spent on each photo, to arrive at a final result that is everything but sure. With enough £$€ I'll be going digital. Hopefully that will happend sooner rather than later, a shot of adrenaline into my slack photographic spirit.
Then sunday, drinving north to see some antique/second hand shops and just get some miles into me. And of course the Salsa course in the afternoon with the dancing. The grace of refrigerators and the emotion of mechanical puppies.
I'll try to scan the photos sometime soon.
-
Oh, and yes, I also had some impulse buying of CDs: the new Nick Cave album (not impressed so far), Anna Ternheim (because she effing deserves my money), two Tom Waits albums (one of which was some sort of bootleg radio recording), and my first ever Hank Williams (so far it seems good. Very country and reminds me of Johnny Cash).
-
Keep coming back for more.
-
Tonight I was invited to a theatre evening, but then it got cancelled bcause of illness. Sad. I wouldve loved some culture. So instead I'm here working on some exercises for a class tomorrow.
-
The girl is always busy. :-(
-
Now , I might just take my acid stomach home and relax!!
-
So, I had a great weekend. Did some excellent second hand shopping, purchasing a) a Hat, which reminds me partly of the hat the Edge wore in the early U2 years and partly reminds me of the amish, b) a Rug ("he told me to take any rug in the house") which is dark blueish, oriental and so soft it will be great for lying on my back and listening to bowling championships, and c) a pair of snug-fitting, great looking, tan pants, with a slight 70s look.
I also had a very holidayesque lunch on satiday, with a pint of guinness at the local Irish pub. I also bought a poker-set, so now anyone who comes around is welcome to join me for a game of Texas Hold'em.
Agreat deal of the weekend hours were spent in the dark room, developing some films and making photos. Some good, none great. It's great fun making photos, but the process is just way to slow for me. Way to much time spent on each photo, to arrive at a final result that is everything but sure. With enough £$€ I'll be going digital. Hopefully that will happend sooner rather than later, a shot of adrenaline into my slack photographic spirit.
Then sunday, drinving north to see some antique/second hand shops and just get some miles into me. And of course the Salsa course in the afternoon with the dancing. The grace of refrigerators and the emotion of mechanical puppies.
I'll try to scan the photos sometime soon.
-
Oh, and yes, I also had some impulse buying of CDs: the new Nick Cave album (not impressed so far), Anna Ternheim (because she effing deserves my money), two Tom Waits albums (one of which was some sort of bootleg radio recording), and my first ever Hank Williams (so far it seems good. Very country and reminds me of Johnny Cash).
-
Keep coming back for more.
-
Tonight I was invited to a theatre evening, but then it got cancelled bcause of illness. Sad. I wouldve loved some culture. So instead I'm here working on some exercises for a class tomorrow.
-
The girl is always busy. :-(
-
Now , I might just take my acid stomach home and relax!!
Another bedtime story for the wicked
Kill The Badger - By Willam S Burroughs
At Los Alamos Ranch School, where they later made the atom bomb and couldn’t wait to drop it on the Yellow Peril, the boys are sitting on logs and rocks, eating some sort of food. There is a stream at the end of a slope. The counsellor was a Southerner with a politician’s look about him. He told us stories by the campfire, culled from the racist garbage of the insidious Sax Rohmer - East is evil, West is good.
Suddenly a badger erupts among the boys - don’t know why he did it, just playful, friendly and inexperienced like the Aztec Indians who brought fruit down to the Spanish and got their hands cut off. So the counsellor rushes for his saddlebag and gets out his 1911 Colt .45 auto and starts blasting at the badger, missing it with every shot at six feet. Finally he puts his gun three inches from the badger’s side and shoots. This time the badger rolls down the slope unto the stream. I can see the stricken animal, the sad shrinking face, rolling down the slope, bleeding, dying.
-"You see an animal you kill it don’t you? It might have bitten one of the boys."
The badger just wanted to romp and play, and he gets shot with a .45 government issue. Contact that. Identify with that. Feel that. And ask yourself. Whose life is worth more? The badger, or this evil piece of white shit?
As Brian Gysin once said: Man is a bad animal
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