I'm drinking dust
With eyes of rust
Tonight my tears might stain your wings
So flutter home
'Cause you're better off alone than with me.
----
Chris Cornell. Shame he writes stuff like "To be yourself is all that you can do" today. Sad. Soundgarden, come back.
eve
first separate and safe
boxed flute in red velvet
then singing joined to air
joined to world so close
so many so much
not silence but bees
branches growing into light
the eyes of the creatures sliding over us
all knowing
crouched over his closed eyes
words coming quickly now like fishes
pollen coating my arms
hair in my mouth
my eyes sticky and my breasts full of honey
----
poet unknown.
The other day...
... I had a fleeting glimpse of you through another persons face. I was sitting with Simona and a few others on a new briefing. Something happened and she gave me this smile I have never seen before and for a moment I saw your face within that smile. Then it disappeared. I miss "that" smile. Especially "that" smile. Just so you know. :)
The fresh machine grinds cotton-coated hearts, free to use, free to abuse, mechanical, user-friendly, unsentimental. Same colour, same effect, more benefit. The real art brings out the real heart. Hi tiger, bye tiger.
Do yourself a favour. Go listen to this. Gomez are back. I'm lovin it. Wish I was in London to see them (.../her) live. :(
Blood-caul of absences.
All night I carpenter
A space for the thing I am given,
A love
---
Beautiful, no? Excerpt from "Thalidomide" by Sylvia Plath.
I want to make a documentary on the lives of labourers living in Sonapur, a place in Dubai, the land of broken dreams. I was inspired by this. Its going to be a pretty strong statement to make and I might, or actually I will, get into a lot of problems while filming it, but I am all geared up. Now that I have almost finished "Kunigunda", I can start working on this. Re: "Look here, Kunigunda" - I am still not 100% complete. I am colour correcting and mastering now. But I am so much more confident I can do a film now. It is very tough but I have learnt a lot in this journey (inside my own head!). :)
Death from fountains
give me the crackle and the sparkle,
the fire and the fountain,
the shouting and the silence,
the heart and the mind.
The wind
Catherine liked high places
High up on the hills
A place for making noises
Noises like the Whales
Here she built a chapel with
Her image on the wall
A place where she could rest and
A place where she could wash
and listen to the wind blow
----
Polly Jean Harvey
(the way she whispers these words, madness, totally)
October, November, December, remember?
Black & Colour
I'm a creature of identity.
A semi-permanent reality.
I'm a decoy of probability,
A must-see minority.
I'm three-colours in my anonimity,
A decadent coat of multiplicity.
I'm the frontman of masculinity,
A minor key in infidelity,
Inhale slowly, repeatedly.
And I'm caged in your mentality.
Bianca Balti is taking over my mind. Slow, calculated. And I have no control over this. I am riding insanity's horse.
To disappear
It's easy to disappear. Quit your job, leave your flat, move back to your mother's place. Soon, no one sees you anymore. The boys at the pub forget you in about a week's time, the bartender eventually writes your tab off with a shrug and a frown. The crowd at office soon gets used to your replacement and there's so much work to do anyway. Your landlord finds a new tenant to break in. The cat that used to visit you sometimes finds someone else to give her milk. Your other friends have each other. And jobs. Some of them are seeing someone, getting serious. Your own girlfriend writes to you a couple of time, then gets a job in another city and loses your address while moving. Your father has a new wife and a new, improved son to deal with. Plus his job. Your mother is kind to you, but you're just one of the many waifs and strays she takes in, although the only two-legged on. You keep a diary for a while but soon run out of things to write about. You have now become invisible to yourself, too. And the days pass like they never have before. Mother, live forever.
----
From criminalenglish by JP.
Donatella Versace is holding onto a thread from my sweater, as I walk away. Unravelling, untangling myself from you.
Videotape
when im at the pearly gates
thisll be on my videotape
when Mephistopholis is just beneath
and he's reaching up to grab me
this is one for the good days
and i have it all here in red blue green
you are my centre when i spin away
out of control on videotape
----
Thom
Landscape, without you
I sit here, alone, staring at a landscape, without you. An alarm goes off. I am back communicating via telex. I wish perspective sat in a box with no grid. A funny new sound replaces the alarm and I am absolute again. Here in a landscape, without you.
There are atoms and space. Everything else is opinion. - Democritus
In a split second the head cracks open, a thousand swans swim to eternity, a light comes crashing through the sun-painted surface, a dolphin cries, a smile forms and nine coloured scorpions stand in line facing a broken window.
I know I waited too long, but I know that my hands are strong and my heart is a shortcut to providence.
