Tuesday, June 30, 2009
why is it that we always finds ourselves at the docks
at 3am
shine a flashlight on me and you'll see that i am not there; it's not four years ago.
i told you i wasn't stardust,
i'm just broken glass
the broken beer bottles by the Henry Fonda parking lot
our walks recklessly never on tempo leave me exercised
the moon songs on the radio, they don't mean we'll be there for each other
i can't see the start of things, that you said was in my lips
and i broke the glasses that you fell in love with
But you still won't leave me alone.
further and further away i want you gone
i need to be left
i can't shake the smell of your nicotine stains
there's no way to
exchange this weak system
i was never a secondhand smoker until i met you
i was doing just fine
until
i saw your name spelled wrong on my run through echo park
and
at 3am i used spray paint to fix the misspelling on the tunnel wall.
i am trying to get big but this record is on repeat
Once we get to the end of this song,
then it will begin again.
So you said,
in our bed.
I was watching light ship
through blinds to find your skin.
So take your medicine
and I won't ask where you've been.
Live your lost weekend.
I know you've wanted it.
Get big, little kid.
And I can't say why each day
doesn't quite fit the space
we saved for it.
But if that space now demands
that you throw up both your hands,
that you call it quits...
Take your midnight trip
I know you've dreamed of it.
Walk your sunset strip,
because I think you've needed it
to get big, little kid.
But just remember that our love
only got this good
because of those younger days
that'd you like to outstrip.
So drink your cup down
to the dregs and leave
that club shaking legs
with another guy,
but just remember: I'm not him.
Take your medicine and I won't ask
where you've been.
Live your lost weekend,
because I know you've wanted it
to get big, little kid.
And once we get to the end of this song,
then another will begin.
-OKKERVIL RIVER lyrics
Thursday, June 25, 2009
in a muddle
Life and Picasso
music searching
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
about my book search
Saturday, June 20, 2009
inspiration for the empty
well it had so much potential, until we got the hideous couch and coffee table.
i guess this means never again use school loop to buy furniture.
we have so much work to do before we get it up to living standards.
the thing is we are broke college students.
sigh.
Living nice doesn't mean spending a lot
it's just a matter of luck in trying to find everything
and coordinating the colors and arrangements.
i guess the grunge look will be okay
for now
well in the mean time we are bargain hunting for furniture.
Of course, inspiration is a must.
So here it is
my hopes and dreams:
{well some of them}
Thursday, June 18, 2009
meditation solutions
there are things in my head
that i wanted to erase
i close my eyes
but the demons came in through the ommmms of my mouth
papa Buddha, grandpa Moses
you gave me a sucker
it passed the time with delight
i guess it's just common sense
to close my eyes
to close my mouth, stop breathes, turn purple and die
Fireflies in the garden
ROBERT FROST
fireflies in the garden
Here come real stars to fill the upper skies,
And here on earth come emulating flies,
That though they never equal stars in size,
(And they were never really stars at heart)
Achieve at times a very star-like start.
Only, of course, they can't sustain the part.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
we are human; the world revolves around us
we think in human terms.
there is no other perspective than the human perspective.
right?
i guess it's only human to attribute biological motion to non-living things.
like dots, those are just dots?
or not. the brain is funny, it sees humans in dots.
and moving dots are moving humans.
In his biomotion lab, Dr. Troje illustrates how movement, speed, direction, arrangement of lit up dots become human.
take a look:
The Biomotion Lab.
playing with the brain is fun.
sleep and ART
i cannot resist
Sunday, June 14, 2009
hey mr.
mister.
i do not like you.
you scream too much at me mister.
i am not your daughter mister
i am not your friend mister
i am not your lover mister
i am not even your foe mister
mister,
have other people told you you are quite strange.
quite demanding.
hey mister,
i hope your cane breaks.
and you
fall.
that was a joke, mister.
a joke like
ha ha ha.
a joke is what we call that.
but i do hate you.
well,
you irk me.
not hate, just annoyed.
your screams they make me mad.
what happened to courtesy,
to manners,
to the
i do not scream at you, you do not scream at me
rule
hey mister.
i don't mean to be rude or anything
but
fuck off.
A summary of Friday and Saturday
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Abandon Communism, Abandon your lighthouses
Soviet engineers decided to implement atomic energy to power up those structures
after the collapse of the Soviet Union, the unattended automatic lighthouses did it job for some time, but after some time they collapsed too. Mostly as a result of the hunt for the metals like copper and other stuff which were performed by the looters. They didn’t care or maybe even didn’t know the meaning of the “Radioactive Danger” sign and ignored them, breaking in and destroying the equipment. It sounds creepy but they broke into the reactors too causing all the structures to become radioactively polluted " {ENGLISH RUSSIA}
COMMUNISM COLLAPSED; so did these GUIDES OF LIGHT-
LEAVING BEHIND ONLY RADIOACTIVE DEBRIS
AND THAT IS THAT
Friday, June 5, 2009
when i get home
i'm sleeping in the lab again
i guess that's more productive than i've been these past hours
my head nods once in a while
my neck falls in circles and hits the table
my notes are out and i wish i knew more about Java and reconstructive memory and ANOVA
but i don't
i know when i get home
when i finally make it back there
it will be too late for tea;
when i log into my inbox maybe if i'm lucky i'll have a message from you
waiting for me
greeting me home
like a neck message; i really need one of
your grins in a message
-but i'm realistic:
i know tonight, tomorrow's 1am morning most likely is empty
it's okay
i guess
as i reach my door
i know it will jam; most likely 3times
but really might even take 5 turns and wiggles to let me in
i will crash completely
completely
but before i do
i will go to this talking mirror that i have
and look at it straight up no bullshit
and it will scream back to me the redness of my eyes, the bags of my eyes, the blurred eyeliner of my eyes
and i will just fall alseep in response
Thursday, June 4, 2009
i sometimes behave so strangely, so strangely, so strangely
why don't you fly away bluebird?
BLUEBIRD - CHARLES BUKOWSKI
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him,
I say, stay in there, I'm not going
to let anybody see
you.
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I pur whiskey on him and inhale
cigarette smoke
and the whores and the bartenders
and the grocery clerks
never know that
he's
in there.
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him,
I say,
stay down, do you want to mess
me up?
you want to screw up the
works?
you want to blow my book sales in
Europe?
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too clever, I only let him out
at night sometimes
when everybody's asleep.
I say, I know that you're there,
so don't be
sad.
then I put him back,
but he's singing a little
in there, I haven't quite let him
die
and we sleep together like
that
with our
secret pact
and it's nice enough to
make a man
weep, but I don't
weep, do
you?
Never going to know you now
stares into space like a dead china doll
Gabba gabba we accept you
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
i hear phantoms
the brain cannot help trying to find meaning, even when there is none.
thus when we re-interpret the ambiguous data at hand, the brain sometimes just messes up.
so we hear phantoms, we see phantoms
take a listen, it's scary the thing that one perceives.
i present to you phantom words: (what do you hear?)
http://www.philomel.com/mp3/phantom_words/Track_06.mp3
you hear words that are not there.
{Diana Deutsch Recording}
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
coffee-ing it up.
me?!
why does drinking always equal me
pretty soon it going to be smoking
punk'n'round echo park
fightin in rumbles on st valentines
using my tongue to speak poetry in harlem
sleepin on somebody's couch on the lower east side
in a cave screaming for help to Plato
punching Socrates in the face for his why's
wearing i don't eat tshirts so people don't realize i don't eat
coffee-ing it up so sleep doesn't bring me scary death scenes