I'm open
So, now my life has come to a standstill. Stopped. I am standing in a pond, with mud. I am waiting for things to happen. But that doesn't really happen, now does it? Piano classes have resumed again. New teacher = better vibes = better teacher. Theres the film happening in Feb. I am starting the filmclub with XVA gallery also in Feb. Feb, I hope, is a good month. I am growing old. R came and now she is gone. So I am alone again. I guess I will get married this year. I want to complicate my life. But I know its no big deal if you think its no big deal. It will happen. My cousin is getting married in Kerala in July. My mom wants me to come so she can set me up with a nice malayali girl. God, these things suffocate me. My heads bloated and I am beginning to see funny shapes in the sky. Change, or die.
Sex born poison
MESAMESASU Prince from the biomass
AI YOKU NO NAMI NI OYOGU
KANA E YO HOLO BI NA KI AI
DEMO IMA WA JIKAN GA NAI
YOKUBO NO sensor KAWASU AI NO juice
DO KASEN NI HI WO TOMOSO
HASHILE HIJOGUSHI LEIKYAKU system on
TODOKAZALU NANABAN ME NO SOLA
Who dares to wake me?
Prince from the biomass
Swimming in the waves of your intimacy
I'm able to offer
My love for centuries
But I have no time right now
Meet my desire sensors
My atom juice of joy
You want to fuse my affective circuits
Run to the fire exit
Use your cooling system
You'll never reach the 7th sky today
----
Air
Crazy, crazy, crazy.
Your presence will be remembered, your absence will be felt. I will remember you always, R. Thankyou.
If...
If I were a swan, I'd be gone.
If I were a train, I'd be late.
And if I were a good man,
I'd talk with you
More often than I do.
If I were to sleep, I could dream.
If I were afraid, I could hide.
If I go insane, please don't put
Your wires in my brain.
If I were the moon, I'd be cool.
If I were a rule, I would bend.
If I were a good man, I'd understand
The spaces between friends.
If I were alone, I would cry.
And if I were with you, I'd be home and dry.
And if I go insane,
Will you still let me join in the game?
If I were a swan, I'd be gone.
If I were a train, I'd be late again.
If I were a good man,
I'd talk with you
More often than I do.
----
Roger Waters
I miss If...
"Political language . . . is designed to make lies sound truthful and murder respectable, and to give an appearance of solidity to pure wind." George Orwell
Kite-marks
kitemarked, doooooor opens, change progresses, sultry demise, artificial state, pretending to be less, sand in shoesss, mind crowded with "fives", help is knocking, where am i?, else is everyone else but not you, half-expect to find control, nothing else comes to self, sold, diamond-shaped pear, a water broke.
I'm not king of comedy,
I'm not your magazine,
I'm not your television,
I'm not your movie screen
I'm not commodity
I'm not commodity
I'm not commodity
I'm not commodity
I'm not commodity
I'm not commodity
----
Michael Stipe
A collection of commercial and experimental projects at Pleasurecuts:).
----
On another note, R introduced me to Jill Scott. Never thought I'd like this kind of music. But strangely, I love it. I am beginning to understand their sensibilities.
Tropicalia
Oh when they beat
Upon a broken guitar
And on the streets
They reek of tropical charms
The embassies lie in hideous shards
Where tourists snore and decay
When they dance in a reptile blaze
You wear a mask
An equatorial haze
Into the past
A colonial maze
Where there's no more confetti to throw
You wouldn't know what to say to yourself
Love is a poverty you couldn't sell
Misery waits in vague hotels
To be evicted
You're out of luck
You're singing funeral songs
To the studs
They're anabolic and bronze
They seem to strut
In their millennial fogs
'til they fall down and deflate
You wouldn't know what to say to yourself
Love is a poverty you couldn't sell
Misery waits in vague hotels
To be evicted
Oh and now you've had your fun
Under an air-conditioned sun
It's burned into your eyes
Leaves you plain and left behind
I see them eyes and fall
Into the jaws of a pestilent love
You wouldn't know what to say to yourself
Love is a poverty you couldn't sell
Misery waits in vague hotels
To be evicted
----
If I was a girl I would want to marry Beck. :)
Suntrapped
I am dissolved in my hair, a guitar-string choking my neck, the sky's belt under the red of my veins, a glowing torch blinding the stage of my eyes, actors running in unison within my words, sea-gulls in a sky of blue metal, surrounding the space inside the texture of temptation, sinking within a bubble holding waste and vasoline. I am dissolving slowly in a river of rage, coloured anathema-white.
"A story is created every time interference changes the state of something."
(P. Fabbri, Semiologist)
How fortunate the man with none
You saw sagacious Solomon
You know what came of him,
To him complexities seemed plain.
He cursed the hour that gave birth to him
And saw that everything was vain.
How great and wise was Solomon.
The world however did not wait
But soon observed what followed on.
It's wisdom that had brought him to this state.
How fortunate the man with none.
You saw courageous Caesar next
You know what he became.
They deified him in his life
Then had him murdered just the same.
And as they raised the fatal knife
How loud he cried: you too my son!
The world however did not wait
But soon observed what followed on.
It's courage that had brought him to that state.
How fortunate the man with none.
You heard of honest Socrates
The man who never lied:
They weren't so grateful as you'd think
Instead the rulers fixed to have him tried
And handed him the poisoned drink.
How honest was the people's noble son.
The world however did not wait
But soon observed what followed on.
It's honesty that brought him to that state.
How fortunate the man with none.
Here you can see respectable folk
Keeping to God's own laws.
So far he hasn't taken heed.
You who sit safe and warm indoors
Help to relieve out bitter need.
How virtuously we had begun.
The world however did not wait
But soon observed what followed on.
It's fear of god that brought us to that state.
How fortunate the man with none.
----
Dead can dance.
The line that surrounds me
The world sits in a square
Through a song its preaching its lines
One last stare
And the divide combines
Resolutions, '06 (what they should really be)
to abandon yearning for the body
to be unquiet
to be visible to oneself
to become endlessly what one has been
to cross the field without breaking the snow
to enter into itself and to stay awake
to expose ourselves to whatever may happen
to forget once having known it
to hide, safeguard, entrust to a protected place
to know not only what is, but the other of what is
to know that the great bell is the great bell
----
Carolyn Forche, from "On Earth", in Blue Hour.
(Thanks for that, e)
So what, if a day finishes and another begins. So what, if night turns to day. So what, if pm turns to am. So what, if a new day brings new stories and new memories to trace. So what, if people make fresh promises. So what, if its the new year. Its all so temporary. When are we going to learn to live within a permanent state; understanding, appreciating and loving the simpler things in life?
Less than a moment
Why is this delight
Excused as nothing?
Is this the vigor
A vast decay?
This ugly state
I shall not answer
This nausea
I delve to slain
This majesty is no longer
A replica with no taste
May i admire
Your tinted cheek
This lobby of worth
I urge to keep
----
Shannon's words are corroding my heart, positively! Mostly consequential.
