watching the world turn from the seats in our heads
chewing on our memories, trying to suckle the last of it outbefore they fade away: uncomfortably sincere
au revoir
Regina - How
Tuesday, March 25, 2014
Saturday, March 15, 2014
vox animae, hiatus kaiyote
Hannah, my darling,
I will follow you into the sunrise on the desert sky,
we fly, rise together with our hearts upon our sleeve for all to see,
we two will breathe,
we fly, rise together with our hearts upon our sleeve for all to see,
we two will breathe,
aqua queen of vast distance between us,
heart sails with love for you, I... love you, I.. love you, I do..
love you, I.. love you, I.. love you, I do.
Nakamarra, sweet, red earth will hold you
like the strength you bless to me, true, we engage humility,
watch me struggle with your words however truthful they may be
we'll see, in time, opening our hearts and nurturing our minds to shine
I love you, I.. love you, I.. love you, I do.
love you, I.. love you, I.. love you, I do, whoo!
we'll see, in time, opening our hearts and nurturing our minds to shine
I love you, I.. love you, I.. love you, I do.
love you, I.. love you, I.. love you, I do, whoo!
Oh, it sets our hearts to fire, sweet you and I.. honey, don't you!
know, it sets our heart to fire, sweet you and I.. honey, don't you!
know, we two will pulse in through this light.. honey, don't you!
know, we two will pulse, I'll always
love you (ye ye ye ye yey-oh)
love you (ye ye ye ye yey-oh)
Love you, I do
love you (ye ye ye ye yey-oh)
love you (ye ye ye ye yey-oh)
love you (ye ye ye ye yey-oh)
Love you, I do
Hannah, my darling,
I will follow you into the sunrise on the desert sky,
we fly, rise together with our hearts upon our sleeve for all to see,
we fly, rise together with our hearts upon our sleeve for all to see,
we, too, will breathe,
aqua queen of vast distance between us,
heart sails with love for you, I.. love you, I.. love you, I do..
love you, I.. love you, I.. love you, I do.
love you, I.. love you, I.. love you, I do.
Oh, it sets our hearts to fire, sweet you and I.. honey, don't you!
know, it sets our heart to fire, sweet you and I.. honey, don't you!
know, we, too, will pulse in through this light.. honey, don't you!
know, we, too, will pulse, I'll always
love you (ye ye ye ye yey-oh)
love you (ye ye ye ye yey-oh)
Love you, I do
love you (ye ye ye ye yey-oh)
love you (ye ye ye ye yey-oh)
love you (ye ye ye ye yey-oh)
Love you, I do
Ye yeah, ye yeah, ye yeah-yeah.. Ye yeah, ye yeah, ye yeah-yeah..
Ye yeah, ye yeah, ye yeah-yeah.. Ye yeah, ye yeah, ye yeah-yeah..
Tuesday, February 11, 2014
Monday, February 3, 2014
real, self-sustained warmth
It seems to me that it's one of those days. I feel inexplicably tangible. Like I'm more present somehow. A couple days ago, I realised I've never really seen myself as a real thing when I see my reflection in the mirror. So I tried that, and it was as if my skin suddenly had colour.
I'll think on that.
I think I'm coming to terms with my fucked-up sense of closeness.
Though what time it will take to be truly comfortable with all that, I don't know.
It's getting simpler. Y'know, like, chill, man, chill.
For now I'm doing that delicate self-destruction thing, and loving it..
I'm thankful for having wonderful people around me. Truly - thanks, guys.
I'll think on that.
I think I'm coming to terms with my fucked-up sense of closeness.
Though what time it will take to be truly comfortable with all that, I don't know.
It's getting simpler. Y'know, like, chill, man, chill.
For now I'm doing that delicate self-destruction thing, and loving it..
I'm thankful for having wonderful people around me. Truly - thanks, guys.
Saturday, December 28, 2013
Love
It's all you want, in the end.
It's all I want.
To be loved. Be be able to love.
It's saddening to realise too late that you've been giving your all to one person, pushing everything else away, because at that moment, nothing else really mattered. It's saddening to see them grow distant, care less and eventually stop caring.
People change, and the things you believed in get taken away from you, and then you're left empty, lonely, and helpless. So you hurt for a while. And it's more real than anyone else will let you believe, because no one can really help you. You may despair. You may spends endless, sleepless nights remembering an exquisitely gentle caress, a truly heartfelt kiss or a long-lost smile. You may not remember the last day you didn't cry, because it's so fucking hard to believe that something so good, days so happy could turn into.. This.
Still, later, you realise that no one can really help you, except yourself. That doesn't make things easier. But you'd be forsaking yourself if you didn't at least try.
Your world spins. It gets darker.
You will have to go through hell to find the light again.
Just try to trust me when I say it's there.
It's all I want.
To be loved. Be be able to love.
It's saddening to realise too late that you've been giving your all to one person, pushing everything else away, because at that moment, nothing else really mattered. It's saddening to see them grow distant, care less and eventually stop caring.
People change, and the things you believed in get taken away from you, and then you're left empty, lonely, and helpless. So you hurt for a while. And it's more real than anyone else will let you believe, because no one can really help you. You may despair. You may spends endless, sleepless nights remembering an exquisitely gentle caress, a truly heartfelt kiss or a long-lost smile. You may not remember the last day you didn't cry, because it's so fucking hard to believe that something so good, days so happy could turn into.. This.
Still, later, you realise that no one can really help you, except yourself. That doesn't make things easier. But you'd be forsaking yourself if you didn't at least try.
Your world spins. It gets darker.
You will have to go through hell to find the light again.
Just try to trust me when I say it's there.
Friday, November 22, 2013
i've been going through
..through the past, and I'm actually liking the present
but gosh, all the things
man, I didn't realise how much GOOD I had before, I was better
I didn't know how different things could be
bitterness is so cold..
DISTRACTION
but gosh, all the things
man, I didn't realise how much GOOD I had before, I was better
I didn't know how different things could be
bitterness is so cold..
DISTRACTION
Update: what if the past catches up with me?
Sunday, October 27, 2013
homecoming
Also, stockings. I need stockings.
*looks distractedly off into the distance*
Saturday, October 26, 2013
Thursday, October 24, 2013
Monday, October 14, 2013
The ISP
They walk among us, in great numbers. They are us.
The Incredibly Sad People.
The ISP.
"He awoke each morning with the desire to do right, to be a good and meaningful person, to be, as simple as it sounded and as impossible as it actually was, happy. And during the course of each day his heart would descend from his chest into his stomach. By early afternoon he was overcome by the feeling that nothing was right, or nothing was right for him, and by the desire to be alone. By evening he was fulfilled: alone in the magnitude of his grief, alone in his aimless guilt, alone even in his loneliness. I am not sad, he would repeat to himself over and over, I am not sad. As if he might one day convince himself. Or fool himself. Or convince others--the only thing worse than being sad is for others to know that you are sad. I am not sad. I am not sad. Because his life had unlimited potential for happiness, insofar as it was an empty white room. He would fall asleep with his heart at the foot of his bed, like some domesticated animal that was no part of his at all. And each morning he would wake with it again in the cupboard of his rib cage, having become a little heavier, a little weaker, but still pumping. And by midafternoon he was again overcome with the desire to be somewhere else, someone else, someone else somewhere else. I am not sad."
- Jonathan Safran Foer, Everything Is Illuminated
This same guy also said "You cannot protect yourself from sadness without protecting yourself from happiness." There are the ISP who are like the man from the story, who lie to themselves for the sake of illusion of the past. There are also those who lie to themselves for the sake of illusion of the future. They know they are sad, they admit it freely, at least part of the time, they will feel it all for the sake of the glimmers of happiness they may capture throughout the day. Brief, but serene, especially on the background of everyday sorrow. It might be better, this way, as they may learn this way. It might be better someday.
The Incredibly Sad People.
The ISP.
"He awoke each morning with the desire to do right, to be a good and meaningful person, to be, as simple as it sounded and as impossible as it actually was, happy. And during the course of each day his heart would descend from his chest into his stomach. By early afternoon he was overcome by the feeling that nothing was right, or nothing was right for him, and by the desire to be alone. By evening he was fulfilled: alone in the magnitude of his grief, alone in his aimless guilt, alone even in his loneliness. I am not sad, he would repeat to himself over and over, I am not sad. As if he might one day convince himself. Or fool himself. Or convince others--the only thing worse than being sad is for others to know that you are sad. I am not sad. I am not sad. Because his life had unlimited potential for happiness, insofar as it was an empty white room. He would fall asleep with his heart at the foot of his bed, like some domesticated animal that was no part of his at all. And each morning he would wake with it again in the cupboard of his rib cage, having become a little heavier, a little weaker, but still pumping. And by midafternoon he was again overcome with the desire to be somewhere else, someone else, someone else somewhere else. I am not sad."
- Jonathan Safran Foer, Everything Is Illuminated
This same guy also said "You cannot protect yourself from sadness without protecting yourself from happiness." There are the ISP who are like the man from the story, who lie to themselves for the sake of illusion of the past. There are also those who lie to themselves for the sake of illusion of the future. They know they are sad, they admit it freely, at least part of the time, they will feel it all for the sake of the glimmers of happiness they may capture throughout the day. Brief, but serene, especially on the background of everyday sorrow. It might be better, this way, as they may learn this way. It might be better someday.
Monday, October 7, 2013
I don't think realisations exist.
In my mind, they almost don't count. I think this because I can disprove my convictions as soon as I come up with them. What I'm left with is an incredible amount of self-doubt, and eventually, loathing. Being unusually gullible probably doesn't help with establishing concrete facts, either.
Now I know what happens when I try too hard, what happens when I give in to fears and desperation. I, hah, get so goddamn needy. Once I've given up on trying to deal with myself I seek help, simultaneously seeking independence and self-assurance, creating such a mess that no one in their right mind would want to deal with that, but yet, I continue, because I don't know what else to do, and because the self-destructive part of myself is keen at proving that I'm no good for anybody.
Which means that what previously I considered "manning up" and expressing myself, trying to get to the bottom of my emotions was pretty much doing the opposite of what I wanted to achieve. I have yielded some good results with the bad, thought. Doing yoga and making an attempt at stabilising these energetic things had been a useful experience, but, as it turns out, too much interference remains being an overload of something.
I was told that both getting drunk and having a cigarette shuts these things off.
It seems that people smoke, somewhere subconsciously having stored the knowledge that it is for their own peace of mind as well as for that of the rest of the general public. If you're off, you can't sabotage other people's work with themselves at that moment. It's a tolerance conspiracy. Which is funny, because it explains how inept people are at dealing with their own shit, really, gives a good reason for the state of the world.
Now I know what happens when I try too hard, what happens when I give in to fears and desperation. I, hah, get so goddamn needy. Once I've given up on trying to deal with myself I seek help, simultaneously seeking independence and self-assurance, creating such a mess that no one in their right mind would want to deal with that, but yet, I continue, because I don't know what else to do, and because the self-destructive part of myself is keen at proving that I'm no good for anybody.
Which means that what previously I considered "manning up" and expressing myself, trying to get to the bottom of my emotions was pretty much doing the opposite of what I wanted to achieve. I have yielded some good results with the bad, thought. Doing yoga and making an attempt at stabilising these energetic things had been a useful experience, but, as it turns out, too much interference remains being an overload of something.
I was told that both getting drunk and having a cigarette shuts these things off.
It seems that people smoke, somewhere subconsciously having stored the knowledge that it is for their own peace of mind as well as for that of the rest of the general public. If you're off, you can't sabotage other people's work with themselves at that moment. It's a tolerance conspiracy. Which is funny, because it explains how inept people are at dealing with their own shit, really, gives a good reason for the state of the world.
Tuesday, September 17, 2013
Unrecognizeable
I used to have such a fascination for decay, but a great deal of that seems to have been lost in my frenzy of stress and apartments and having to keep things clean and organized.
It's sad, to see the bubbles fizz out of the lemonade. I do see what you mean, Kat.
Pain, pain, less gain than complete disaster - it's hard to tell if you should be grateful for the experience or furious about having become one of the countless broken beings. The word "broken" having a new meaning for me.
The music stopped, and left behind a buzzing silence, interspaced with occasional tapping, the closed door muffling the city outside.
Let's make lemonade again, world. Full of delightful bubbles. I suppose it would be more sophisticated lemonade, perhaps pink lemonade, a sort of a metaphor for joyful lacy intercourse.
Boots. Boots is a good start, I suppose.
It's sad, to see the bubbles fizz out of the lemonade. I do see what you mean, Kat.
Pain, pain, less gain than complete disaster - it's hard to tell if you should be grateful for the experience or furious about having become one of the countless broken beings. The word "broken" having a new meaning for me.
Let's make lemonade again, world. Full of delightful bubbles. I suppose it would be more sophisticated lemonade, perhaps pink lemonade, a sort of a metaphor for joyful lacy intercourse.
Boots. Boots is a good start, I suppose.
Wednesday, July 31, 2013
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