Got up today, as I do most days, and didn't really have any idea what was going to change. I guess that's true for most days, but anyway. I worked, hard mind you, all day and didn't get off until later than expected. Late for a party I was going to, so I took a light dinner (a bowl of "fil" (a swedish, youghurt-like soured milk product - delicious and nutricious but hardly a meal)) while roaming the apartment in a haunted way. I knew I was going to meet someone at the party, and I wasn't really sure what that would feel like or what I would say. Half scared that I would be hit by a jolt of something at the sight of E, and half scared of what I was going to say to her.
Not without a sting of disappointment, nothing stirred. I liked to see her again, but even there, with her in front of me, there was no doubt in my mind. I have fallen for the other One, aka Ms. Big, aka H. I like her so much it scares me. Thinking about is scares me because it makes me see just how hurt I could get.
So I was weird, I guess. I was distant and stand-offish. And then, after I while I summoned enough cojones to tell her straight up what was going on. I told her how I liked her, but that my heart was occupied (read: the Gasa strip) by another and that even if I would go with her, there would just so clearly be trouble because of this. And I told her how I was selfish friday night when I had briefly summarised my situation as "complicated" and didn't want to talk about it for it would've ruined the moment. No poo it would have, telling her there was a ms. Big in the closet.
And the simple truth is that even if, which wasn't the case, she had been comparably compelling and sweet, H has a 6 month or so head start. Better the angel you know.
So now it just remains to see what happends. Will H bring it? Ok, I don't know what that means really, I'm way too tired for coherence. Wathcing south park.
Oh, actually the point I was aiming for in the beginning of this post was that I am so in awe of both the girls involved. I am so glad that the honesty that I think I've .. used, shown?. has been met by great understanding. It's very reassuring that honest communication actually is appreciated. (on that note, remind me to stop listening to the advice of my roomate, saying things like "don't close any doors" and "don't tell her about this and that"). I will continue to be honest and avoid playing games on people, even if that costs me a few relationships.
Ok, I am rambling, not making snsse..
---
gotta ssleeep ssssleep. zzzzz z.z zz
Som man bäddar
Nej, jag ville aldrig att det skulle bli så här. Jag ville att allt skulle vara enkelt, soligt och varmt. Och utan tvekan. Men tvekan var där hela tiden. För alla gånger jag sagt att hon är den bästa jag träffat har jag fått höra att det aldrig kommer att gå. Från henne har jag fått höra att det nog var bäst att gå vidare. (vill bara passa på att tacka mina två kompisar som faktiskt stöttat mig 100% i min romantiska idé att jag skulle få vara med henne, tack L och T). Tills jag en dag till slut lyssnar, stänger dörrarna till den del av mig som bara vill ligga hemma och krama gamla brev, minnas gamla sms, drömma om gamla drömmar. Och går vidare. Ett litet steg, och broarna bakom mig börjar lukta bensin. En svavellukt av tändstickor och jag vet verkligen inte om det är jag eller någon annan som hotar att förstöra allt.
Hur många gånger kan man börja gråta av att koka gröt? Varför är det helt plötsligt olidligt att hacka äppelbitar i filen?
Det här är så orättvist. Så förutsett ("så fort hon hör att du hånglat med nån annan kommer hon att vilja ha dig tillbaka"). Så osäkert.
Men nu står jag här, och om inte du tar den smärta som krävs för att släcka tändstickan mellan dina fingertoppar, kommer jag snart att tappa den. För jag vågar inte röra mig. Jag vågar bara röra dig.
Så jag skjuter ett brev under din dörr. Skriver ett annat till hela världen. Och försöker stänga dörrrarna som egentligen bara du kan öppna.
Hur många gånger kan man börja gråta av att koka gröt? Varför är det helt plötsligt olidligt att hacka äppelbitar i filen?
Det här är så orättvist. Så förutsett ("så fort hon hör att du hånglat med nån annan kommer hon att vilja ha dig tillbaka"). Så osäkert.
Men nu står jag här, och om inte du tar den smärta som krävs för att släcka tändstickan mellan dina fingertoppar, kommer jag snart att tappa den. För jag vågar inte röra mig. Jag vågar bara röra dig.
Så jag skjuter ett brev under din dörr. Skriver ett annat till hela världen. Och försöker stänga dörrrarna som egentligen bara du kan öppna.
Money where my mouth is
If you're feeling in control, you're not dating enough people.
I went out last night, and I guess I was kind of hoping to see this girl from a party a few weeks ago. She had said she would be there this night, and so I carried that little hope in the lining of my coat. Happily I observed the following
1. She was there
2. She still seemed nice
3. She was seated across from me during dinner
4. She was .. flirting, wasn't she?
5. Wait.. is she flirting with me, the guy to her right, or the girl to her left?..
6. The girl next to me is a psychotic, moody, €%&"!
7. She really is showing interest
8. She comes and sits right next to me
9. We talk all night, people point and smile
10. Friend call us over, luring the both of us into a cleverly set trap made from mistle toe
11. We comply, after all it is tradition
12. We comply some more, in a very untraditional like way
13. We keep talking all night
14. Everyone goes to the afterpary
15. We talk in a corner
16. Everybody start to leave and we are the last to realise the party is over and we are being gently kicked out by the hostess
So, that's all good and fine. Great even. Yet again, it seems my fantasies solidify before my eyes. Dangerously though, as the isolatedness of a fantasy is a prerequisite for its exquisiteness. Now, suddenly real, the consequences are coming crashing down around this fantasy and life is complicated further. Outside it's 10 below and no one can survive for long.
But I realise, my complaints are bullshit in a way. My diamond shoes are too tight, my wallet's too big for my $50's... and so on.
I am glad I met this girl, that I had this night to feel good, really good. What I've done to deserve all this I cannot say, but then again, somewhere down the road, the gifts often seem to turn to puzzles, problems, pitfalls.
--
I went out last night, and I guess I was kind of hoping to see this girl from a party a few weeks ago. She had said she would be there this night, and so I carried that little hope in the lining of my coat. Happily I observed the following
1. She was there
2. She still seemed nice
3. She was seated across from me during dinner
4. She was .. flirting, wasn't she?
5. Wait.. is she flirting with me, the guy to her right, or the girl to her left?..
6. The girl next to me is a psychotic, moody, €%&"!
7. She really is showing interest
8. She comes and sits right next to me
9. We talk all night, people point and smile
10. Friend call us over, luring the both of us into a cleverly set trap made from mistle toe
11. We comply, after all it is tradition
12. We comply some more, in a very untraditional like way
13. We keep talking all night
14. Everyone goes to the afterpary
15. We talk in a corner
16. Everybody start to leave and we are the last to realise the party is over and we are being gently kicked out by the hostess
So, that's all good and fine. Great even. Yet again, it seems my fantasies solidify before my eyes. Dangerously though, as the isolatedness of a fantasy is a prerequisite for its exquisiteness. Now, suddenly real, the consequences are coming crashing down around this fantasy and life is complicated further. Outside it's 10 below and no one can survive for long.
But I realise, my complaints are bullshit in a way. My diamond shoes are too tight, my wallet's too big for my $50's... and so on.
I am glad I met this girl, that I had this night to feel good, really good. What I've done to deserve all this I cannot say, but then again, somewhere down the road, the gifts often seem to turn to puzzles, problems, pitfalls.
--
onthedumpsterinthealleybymyhouse
'as you might be noticing: new look to the page! yes, it was finally time to freshen up, I guess. the content however will remain the same moldy comments and bitter observations, because let's face it.. improving the exterior is the only way to go these days, idnit? And at the same time I am reverting to an old pseudonym, a homage to the Babe
Current musical enjoyment
- Diane Cluck: Oh Vanille (thank you Wooliton!)
- Rufus Wainwright: Rufus Wainwright
- Nick Cave: the boatman's call
-Ani difranco: Evolve (listening to Serpentine right now:
This season is keeping me ridiculously tired. My eyes are red as if I was smoking dope all nacht but I really am not. And my nose seems to have gotten stuck in a moment it can't get out of, seeing as I have been snotty for about a year now. And I sneeze a lot. Oh.. oh.. yeah.. you didn't really want to..? No, I guess it wasnt all that interesting, but there you go, that's how tired I am.
-
Thinking about the broken heart situation is really like that metaphorical wound, that you can't keep from scratching and, because of that, wont heal. I feel that, if I could just be completetly absorbed by something for a while now, I would feel better later. Put some distance between me and now.
Current musical enjoyment
- Diane Cluck: Oh Vanille (thank you Wooliton!)
- Rufus Wainwright: Rufus Wainwright
- Nick Cave: the boatman's call
-Ani difranco: Evolve (listening to Serpentine right now:
-
"and that knife you stuck in my back is still there
it pinches a little when i sigh and moan
and these days i'm thinkin i could just as soon use
the time alone
---
and behold
those that try to expose the reality
who really try to realize democracy
are shot with rubber bullets and gassed off the streets
while the global power brokers are kept clean and discrete
behind a wall
behind a moat
and that is all
that's all she wrote
---
and i always got the feeling
you just liked to hear it fall
off your tongue
but i remember my name
in your mouth
and i don't think i was done
hearing it close to my ear
on a whisper's way to a moan "
This season is keeping me ridiculously tired. My eyes are red as if I was smoking dope all nacht but I really am not. And my nose seems to have gotten stuck in a moment it can't get out of, seeing as I have been snotty for about a year now. And I sneeze a lot. Oh.. oh.. yeah.. you didn't really want to..? No, I guess it wasnt all that interesting, but there you go, that's how tired I am.
-
Thinking about the broken heart situation is really like that metaphorical wound, that you can't keep from scratching and, because of that, wont heal. I feel that, if I could just be completetly absorbed by something for a while now, I would feel better later. Put some distance between me and now.
"you said you needed time
well
you had time"
"I am a party
and she is a school night"
På svenska
sorry if you're not suecophonic... this was a comment by me to Soulfighters blog
---
one: du skriver fortfarande så bra så man blir lite svag
two: visst är det så. man ser, en bit fram på stigen, hur man kommer att traska in i en betongvägg. det är inte ens särskilt övertygande målat, färgen flagnar, och himlen har inte rätt blåfärg. men stannar man? nej. saktar man ens ner på sin naiva promenad? nej, man ler bara och letar frånvarande efter plåster i fickan. för vem vet? kanske är det inte målat på betong.. kanske är det målat på japanskt papper, och man kommer att ramla rakt in i ett en kärlek man inte ens visste fanns.
tre: det svåra med att släppa taget. man kan bli hur lycklig som helst, i en föreställd framtid, med någon man (tydligen) egentligen inte känner så väl som man tror. och det är den drömmen som är så bitterljuv att gå och lägga sig med. som smakar så gott på kvällen. men som gör det så svårt att resa sig ur värmen på morgonen. att öppna ögonen i mörkret.
---
one: du skriver fortfarande så bra så man blir lite svag
two: visst är det så. man ser, en bit fram på stigen, hur man kommer att traska in i en betongvägg. det är inte ens särskilt övertygande målat, färgen flagnar, och himlen har inte rätt blåfärg. men stannar man? nej. saktar man ens ner på sin naiva promenad? nej, man ler bara och letar frånvarande efter plåster i fickan. för vem vet? kanske är det inte målat på betong.. kanske är det målat på japanskt papper, och man kommer att ramla rakt in i ett en kärlek man inte ens visste fanns.
tre: det svåra med att släppa taget. man kan bli hur lycklig som helst, i en föreställd framtid, med någon man (tydligen) egentligen inte känner så väl som man tror. och det är den drömmen som är så bitterljuv att gå och lägga sig med. som smakar så gott på kvällen. men som gör det så svårt att resa sig ur värmen på morgonen. att öppna ögonen i mörkret.
Drunk on boredom
I wish I was staying up late. For partying. But it's been a really busy week. All work and no play makes me a hungry boy. I had to prepare for some meeting regarding the context of my work, and then there was the Application and The Plan to fill in, i.e. make up some nice story about what I am supposed to do here and how great it will be for the world and all mankind. Kind of random, but good to be getting the proverbial kick in the behind, getting started a little more concretely.
Tonight (now) in the lab for some process work. Going back and forth between this hunk of junk and "The Laser", which incidently is the laser - I just like to make the Dr.Evil joke every time.
Then it's back to my place for some economics. Balancing the account for the Photo Association. And some general meddling and communication on it's behalf.
Then, if I have time, I will maybe get some gaming done - Baldurs Gate - it's captivating I tell you. Otherwise I may just go to bed and watch some Eddie Izzard, a fabulous (hidden meanings are boss) comedian. British. I still say the Brits rule the greatest humour empire of the world. "Oh really? Have they?" and so on..
More later peehaps
Tonight (now) in the lab for some process work. Going back and forth between this hunk of junk and "The Laser", which incidently is the laser - I just like to make the Dr.Evil joke every time.
Then it's back to my place for some economics. Balancing the account for the Photo Association. And some general meddling and communication on it's behalf.
Then, if I have time, I will maybe get some gaming done - Baldurs Gate - it's captivating I tell you. Otherwise I may just go to bed and watch some Eddie Izzard, a fabulous (hidden meanings are boss) comedian. British. I still say the Brits rule the greatest humour empire of the world. "Oh really? Have they?" and so on..
More later peehaps
That girl again, and this time she likes snow
Baby i've only got a minute
Baby i have to go
A minute is all my life
Will ever allow
Let's grow old
And die together
Let's do it now
Lessons about my self
1) I dream romantically. I calculate cynically.
2) I will fight nail and teeth to stay Hopeful in the face of Promise
3) My need to understand people's thinking is exceeded only by my painstaking dissection of their speaking
2) I will fight nail and teeth to stay Hopeful in the face of Promise
3) My need to understand people's thinking is exceeded only by my painstaking dissection of their speaking
Reason is a killer - Attraction is truth
Oh, hi.
I feel strange.
.I feel strange.
..I feel strange.
...I feel strange strange strange.
Can't really.. formulate.. articulate.. There is this lovely, unbelievable thing that just seems to not want to happend. The problem with too good, too close, too beautiful is, of course that too only pushes the good the close the beautiful ...further .....and ............further .........................away
but I just want it closecloseCLOSE. I want to feel it HERE, that hair HERE, those lips CLOSE, close my eyes over HER, hear her HERE, her smell HERE.
Why isn't "I want to be with you" enough. Why isn't "With you I feel good, safe, warm, and blessed" the only thing you need. These rules we set up, the IF, THEN, ELSE of love, do they really exist.. I feel like no. It's not a logic progression, just the scent of your obsession will tell you. It's feromones, serotonin, adrenaline.
But now
.As I said
..It just feels strange
...And I feel so alone
....Thegoodtheclosethebeautiful is so far
.....Too far
I feel strange.
.I feel strange.
..I feel strange.
...I feel strange strange strange.
Can't really.. formulate.. articulate.. There is this lovely, unbelievable thing that just seems to not want to happend. The problem with too good, too close, too beautiful is, of course that too only pushes the good the close the beautiful ...further .....and ............further .........................away
but I just want it closecloseCLOSE. I want to feel it HERE, that hair HERE, those lips CLOSE, close my eyes over HER, hear her HERE, her smell HERE.
Why isn't "I want to be with you" enough. Why isn't "With you I feel good, safe, warm, and blessed" the only thing you need. These rules we set up, the IF, THEN, ELSE of love, do they really exist.. I feel like no. It's not a logic progression, just the scent of your obsession will tell you. It's feromones, serotonin, adrenaline.
But now
.As I said
..It just feels strange
...And I feel so alone
....Thegoodtheclosethebeautiful is so far
.....Too far
Another swedish Tiger
You brought this all on yourself
Don't try to pin this one on me
Tonight I give up at last
I am now a memory of your past
Women are evil
so here i am
listening to a conversation between one of my flatmates and her friend. losing whatever trust and illusion i had about women. please someone tell me otherwise. comments like "oh come on, it's 2005. show me the woman who isn't sleeping around." it's scary how close reality seems to come to south park's "stupid spoiled whore" episode. and it SOO bothers me the lack of shame, the lack of decency with which they (seem to) have an "extra" guy even when they have a boyfriend. the fuck is going on?
i think, i don't know, but maybe there is some sort of feeling that there is a universal injustice of men having slept around for centuries, and now my friends are trying to catch up. i am seriously starting to doubt the continued image of women as having been virtuos and men spreading their "wild oats". if there is common genetic material, women might have been just as bad but 10 times as sneaky.
...oh.. I don't know.. I just would like to maintain my vision (illusion?) that most PEOPLE try and want to be faithful. maybe even fall in love somtimes and trust each other. most people I know and like anyway.
listening to a conversation between one of my flatmates and her friend. losing whatever trust and illusion i had about women. please someone tell me otherwise. comments like "oh come on, it's 2005. show me the woman who isn't sleeping around." it's scary how close reality seems to come to south park's "stupid spoiled whore" episode. and it SOO bothers me the lack of shame, the lack of decency with which they (seem to) have an "extra" guy even when they have a boyfriend. the fuck is going on?
i think, i don't know, but maybe there is some sort of feeling that there is a universal injustice of men having slept around for centuries, and now my friends are trying to catch up. i am seriously starting to doubt the continued image of women as having been virtuos and men spreading their "wild oats". if there is common genetic material, women might have been just as bad but 10 times as sneaky.
...oh.. I don't know.. I just would like to maintain my vision (illusion?) that most PEOPLE try and want to be faithful. maybe even fall in love somtimes and trust each other. most people I know and like anyway.
Frozen winter shit
Define feeling complete: I have Baldurs Gate II and Heroes of might and magic III. If you know nothing of these thing, imaginge the safe feeling of a soft safety net that never will let you fall into complete boredom.
yesterday was a good night
I went with I to the Tiger Lou concert at Katalin. Tiger has gotten a little heavier and darker and harder, but still oh so f*cking good. I bought the new CD also.. spinning heavily around my players.
yesterday was a good nightI went with I to the Tiger Lou concert at Katalin. Tiger has gotten a little heavier and darker and harder, but still oh so f*cking good. I bought the new CD also.. spinning heavily around my players.
"this is how it feels to be special
I wanted to kill you the next day"
On a wing and a pear
"Please ask me where I am going to"
"All combat takes place in rain and fog, in the middle of the night, at a folded corner of the map"
Where I lay my hat
Pictures of the new apartement at http://oskarino.fotogalleriet.se, if you are a PO-voyeurist...
Up with the sun
So, I've realized that both with and without reason the contents of this blog has slid toward the fragmentary and vacuous. And I guess that makes for a less interesting blog. So, soon I will write down a concise, chewey and chunky update about what is actually factually going on. Be patient, I predict it will take a week or so before it actually happends.
In the meanwhile, here's me, Jacob and Linda from this friday, Kalmar nation.
In the meanwhile, here's me, Jacob and Linda from this friday, Kalmar nation.
I feel like a freshly flushed bowl
The best song name right now: "Leila came over and we watched a video"
Dewey, Cheatem and Howe
"never get up in the morning on a saturday"
I am in material love, cuz I'm a material boy
-
sigh. i am liking life in this new place. another hungover morning, but it's nice. nice people and somehow more freedom.
Everything bit the girl
I'll put my suitcase here for now
I'll turn the TV to the bed
But if no one calls and I don't speak all day
Do I disappear?
And look at me without you
I'm quite proud of myself
I feel reckless, clumsy
Like I'm making a mistake
A really big mistake
-
Listening mostly to
Everything but the girl
Tears for fears
gloria
Maybe I should eat...
A strange sense of loosing one's way while standing still.
-
I am now, currently, presently, residing in my new abode, the New Place, an apartment neighbouring a sushi place and a pizza place. In honor of which I made home made pizza last night. We had a great birthday/house warming party in only few numbers (6 to be exact) with red wine, good food, and an ok barnight at Escobar (1st visit for me, a second one may not be very imminent).
Today, properly tired and hazy. I sent my parents back to Northern Territories with my TV (liberation!!) and a smile. then I've spent most of the day watching God's Army, South Park, and reading a book called 'mess' - not the english word mess, but rather the swedish slang for SMS - with varied success. God's army is a great old religious sci-fi film with surprising actors such as Christopher Walken, Viggo Mortensen, Amanda Plummer and Eric Stoltz. Good for sunday mornings.
--
-
I am now, currently, presently, residing in my new abode, the New Place, an apartment neighbouring a sushi place and a pizza place. In honor of which I made home made pizza last night. We had a great birthday/house warming party in only few numbers (6 to be exact) with red wine, good food, and an ok barnight at Escobar (1st visit for me, a second one may not be very imminent).
Today, properly tired and hazy. I sent my parents back to Northern Territories with my TV (liberation!!) and a smile. then I've spent most of the day watching God's Army, South Park, and reading a book called 'mess' - not the english word mess, but rather the swedish slang for SMS - with varied success. God's army is a great old religious sci-fi film with surprising actors such as Christopher Walken, Viggo Mortensen, Amanda Plummer and Eric Stoltz. Good for sunday mornings.
--
Ideas as Opiates
say what you want
say what you will
'cos i find you think what makes it easier
and lies spread on lies
we don't care
belief is our relief
we don't care
P.S
and I think Tom will join us too:
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
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."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)