Vous faites quoi aujourd'hui? What are you (formal or plural, 'you all') doing today?
Tu fêtes quoi aujourd'hui? What are you (informal) celebrating today?
Formally, you, we all, have to be doing something. But those who know you well enough to be informal like to look at it as a celebration.
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....always right.
The first few seconds of a song will usually a) rub me right or b) incite 'next', depending on my mood.
Then there are those nights where a long trip home is accompanied by good music no matter what song comes on. You can sink into the sound happily because you get past your 'mood' and feel energy on any and all levels. Ride it.
So, on nights like these, some songs get their shining moments to become 'that song', until the next one comes around...
Last night this played, and then 2:38 gets up in your face and says "HEY! HOLY @*#& aren't I good?"
The first few seconds of a song will usually a) rub me right or b) incite 'next', depending on my mood.
Then there are those nights where a long trip home is accompanied by good music no matter what song comes on. You can sink into the sound happily because you get past your 'mood' and feel energy on any and all levels. Ride it.
So, on nights like these, some songs get their shining moments to become 'that song', until the next one comes around...
Last night this played, and then 2:38 gets up in your face and says "HEY! HOLY @*#& aren't I good?"
At the end of a class today, while everyone was resting in their nice final relaxation corpse pose, their little cells running around to slow down and integrate what just happened, there came a slight noise from afar. A crash bang of sorts. Muffled and faraway though it was.
It set my mind off on a chain reaction; the shock of an unexpected noise to a freshly worked-out and now totally-relaxing person. And then I imagined what it would be like if I let out a blood curdling scream. Out of no where. While this room full of people were at complete, innocent rest. It took all I had not to burst out laughing. Not to snicker, even.
The little devil was dancing on my shoulder.
It set my mind off on a chain reaction; the shock of an unexpected noise to a freshly worked-out and now totally-relaxing person. And then I imagined what it would be like if I let out a blood curdling scream. Out of no where. While this room full of people were at complete, innocent rest. It took all I had not to burst out laughing. Not to snicker, even.
The little devil was dancing on my shoulder.
the way you close your eyes while brushing your teeth, tracing cleanliness like a sheet of paper pressed to a window, lighting the way over established lines
the morning you were alone and in a quiet way, witnessed a bird playing with a feather clasped in its beak, then released. the perfect turns in flight to swoop in sharply and catch it again. an engineer's precision.
the swell
knowing when to stop, when a work is finished
finding an ending opening into transition
the tug that always brings you back to it
like a person who can't be let go because
you could never have them, truly
the powerful motion backed by steadied breath and the sunlight breaks through the window onto only your mat. you don't have to you know you are connected, the fact is upon you
that quirky Rolodex you store in your head, facts and figures filed almost independently of your will
the sense of knowing when you've found something worth developing, an idea, a technique, a seed you've been looking to nourish
the pains, revealing
a joy in daring
the morning you were alone and in a quiet way, witnessed a bird playing with a feather clasped in its beak, then released. the perfect turns in flight to swoop in sharply and catch it again. an engineer's precision.
the swell
knowing when to stop, when a work is finished
finding an ending opening into transition
the tug that always brings you back to it
like a person who can't be let go because
you could never have them, truly
the powerful motion backed by steadied breath and the sunlight breaks through the window onto only your mat. you don't have to you know you are connected, the fact is upon you
that quirky Rolodex you store in your head, facts and figures filed almost independently of your will
the sense of knowing when you've found something worth developing, an idea, a technique, a seed you've been looking to nourish
the pains, revealing
a joy in daring
less spam more love letters, less rush more focus, less keyboard more pen & paper,
less nostalgia more implementation, less excuses more solutions, less perfection more mistakes,
less noise more listen, less toys more play, less forgetting more inventing, less hesitation more experimentation,
less hacks more pass it down, less habit more respect, less me me me more I eye aye
less nostalgia more implementation, less excuses more solutions, less perfection more mistakes,
less noise more listen, less toys more play, less forgetting more inventing, less hesitation more experimentation,
less hacks more pass it down, less habit more respect, less me me me more I eye aye
oh my god I just discovered this!!! them! Thank you internet!!! Who knew craigslist would throw me down a rabbit hole to come out with these monkeys?
PS want Roy Orbison's glasses
We'll bury 'em?
It's the night before Christmass and as a token of gratitude and love, I would like to share a mantra of my very own making that will hopefully bestow magnificent wonders upon you.
Take a moment and picture me at the ripe age of 16, it's the end of the school year and the hard work is about to pay off. That extra Spanish class I added to my schedule a full two years prior? It was all for this: a week-long trip to Málaga and the Costa del Sol (or, as my cheap souvenir towel says, Costa de Sol).
The group gathered to reap the benefits of our high school's notorious end-of-year Spain trip, was also the group that had the officials back home call the whole thing off for future generations of would-be revelers. Though I can't take full responsibility, it's hard to deny that letting a bevvy of American teenagers loose in a European resort town (and it's environs) is asking for some measure of trouble.
I digress.
I also love catchy, impactful, succinct lines.
And as we're toasting the night of San Juan festival, our very near states of blissful intoxication, and the beach bar we're overy impressed and excited with, I blurt out a most satisfying soliloquy which has accompanied my celebrations ever since.
This Christmass, I share it in the hopes that my simple mantra will improve the lives of all who allow it reign over their raised glasses, their elevated spirits:
Good luck, success, good sex
If this trifecta could work its magic in more lives, I think we'd be that much closer to world peace.
XXX
Moi
Take a moment and picture me at the ripe age of 16, it's the end of the school year and the hard work is about to pay off. That extra Spanish class I added to my schedule a full two years prior? It was all for this: a week-long trip to Málaga and the Costa del Sol (or, as my cheap souvenir towel says, Costa de Sol).
The group gathered to reap the benefits of our high school's notorious end-of-year Spain trip, was also the group that had the officials back home call the whole thing off for future generations of would-be revelers. Though I can't take full responsibility, it's hard to deny that letting a bevvy of American teenagers loose in a European resort town (and it's environs) is asking for some measure of trouble.
I digress.
I also love catchy, impactful, succinct lines.
And as we're toasting the night of San Juan festival, our very near states of blissful intoxication, and the beach bar we're overy impressed and excited with, I blurt out a most satisfying soliloquy which has accompanied my celebrations ever since.
This Christmass, I share it in the hopes that my simple mantra will improve the lives of all who allow it reign over their raised glasses, their elevated spirits:
Good luck, success, good sex
If this trifecta could work its magic in more lives, I think we'd be that much closer to world peace.
XXX
Moi
For the trains, planes, and automobiles
that take us to our dreams
along the way,
this is for you
for the whizzing sunsets and blink-n-miss it pastures
for the comfort of being in someone else's hands
signed, sealed and
delivered
remember that 15-hour stretch
chugging over borders
provinces, regions
the change was subtle
I'd look up from my book to make sure I didn't miss it
they still had smoking cars then
and the Pyrenees were gorgeous
on to that dark ride
sent off alone and young in the middle of the night
a little scared a little sad
but you had the sleeper all to yourself
and so you wrote and wrote about missing home
at least you knew what it was you were missing
between the capital and the city of your summers
courtyard echoing in games and giggles
someone who loved you would be waiting when you arrived
or that time, cuddled against your father
reluctant to be without your mother
yet when the train stopped dead in its tracks
you were glad he was there to have your back
nervous stillness, "why aren't we moving?"
it was late then too
and the countryside didn't offer any light
wondering, where's the moon?
to pass the time he told you stories
misadventures in the mountains as a boy
your imagination ran with it
the picture of him filled in a little more
for that Towncar
that fed you
though it made a ghost of the bread winner
falling asleep at the wheel
grown tired of chasing that supposed dream
and you never looked at the driver's window the same
upon hearing the story
facing a barrel, 3 a.m.
that was real
for the cozy backseat
that let your longer-than-average little legs stretch
with your head in a pillow lap
up and down the eastern seaboard
DC to skiis in VT
and all the wealthy neighborhoods in between
everyone in the car groaning
let's go
but no, no
there's architecture to marvel at
openly despise
McMansions got the brunt of it
the extra seat filled by an aunt or uncle
depending on the season
co-pilot, reading off trajectories
that's where my relationship began
with maps
with directions
she always knows where north is
and the stars would help
through that sunroof
oh there were mishaps a-plenty
fights and escaping from a moving car
fugitive scars
it could never be normal with us
at least I can laugh about it
now
but we were delivered,
barely together
to the tops of vistas
to the edge of the sea
to those sights we supposedly
had to see
sunsets calmed down
fresh aired it out
misting falls
hideous ponchos from hell
with missy climbing a tree
bored of posing
for future memories
are we there yet?
just to fit the bill
catching your next flight
electing your seat
as if, it couldn't be, it couldn't be
the destination can't change
everything
but those
4-hour nights
light's turn-around
bite-sized and stellar
an in-flight gift making your trip out of line
that much more magical, a potential for pleasure
seated
in the sky
countless looking up as you pass by
with that thought
that question
where are they headed
the ticket knows
not the grand plans once on land
to be honest
neither does the holder
but the lightness of flying
will keep you on your toes
if not a smidge too controlled
security high
counters the freedom
of the sky
so sit back, relax
pace the cabin a bit
pull over for that dinner
on an eerie storming lake along your way
pick up the hitchiker, him with the guitar and a three-legged dog
if you don't act fast enough
you can still reverse down a 3-lane highway
just don't tell them I said it was ok
and, obviously, use the shoulder
upgrade when you can
but it's always more fascinating
to sit with the common man
pick a stranger for stories
share your own
snail's pace chugging to TGV
oh, the places you'll be
buy the ticket
take the ride
chart the
discover the landscape
of your life
that take us to our dreams
along the way,
this is for you
for the whizzing sunsets and blink-n-miss it pastures
for the comfort of being in someone else's hands
signed, sealed and
delivered
remember that 15-hour stretch
chugging over borders
provinces, regions
the change was subtle
I'd look up from my book to make sure I didn't miss it
they still had smoking cars then
and the Pyrenees were gorgeous
on to that dark ride
sent off alone and young in the middle of the night
a little scared a little sad
but you had the sleeper all to yourself
and so you wrote and wrote about missing home
at least you knew what it was you were missing
between the capital and the city of your summers
courtyard echoing in games and giggles
someone who loved you would be waiting when you arrived
or that time, cuddled against your father
reluctant to be without your mother
yet when the train stopped dead in its tracks
you were glad he was there to have your back
nervous stillness, "why aren't we moving?"
it was late then too
and the countryside didn't offer any light
wondering, where's the moon?
to pass the time he told you stories
misadventures in the mountains as a boy
your imagination ran with it
the picture of him filled in a little more
for that Towncar
that fed you
though it made a ghost of the bread winner
falling asleep at the wheel
grown tired of chasing that supposed dream
and you never looked at the driver's window the same
upon hearing the story
facing a barrel, 3 a.m.
that was real
for the cozy backseat
that let your longer-than-average little legs stretch
with your head in a pillow lap
up and down the eastern seaboard
DC to skiis in VT
and all the wealthy neighborhoods in between
everyone in the car groaning
let's go
but no, no
there's architecture to marvel at
openly despise
McMansions got the brunt of it
the extra seat filled by an aunt or uncle
depending on the season
co-pilot, reading off trajectories
that's where my relationship began
with maps
with directions
she always knows where north is
and the stars would help
through that sunroof
oh there were mishaps a-plenty
fights and escaping from a moving car
fugitive scars
it could never be normal with us
at least I can laugh about it
now
but we were delivered,
barely together
to the tops of vistas
to the edge of the sea
to those sights we supposedly
had to see
sunsets calmed down
fresh aired it out
misting falls
hideous ponchos from hell
with missy climbing a tree
bored of posing
for future memories
are we there yet?
just to fit the bill
catching your next flight
electing your seat
as if, it couldn't be, it couldn't be
the destination can't change
everything
but those
4-hour nights
light's turn-around
bite-sized and stellar
an in-flight gift making your trip out of line
that much more magical, a potential for pleasure
seated
in the sky
countless looking up as you pass by
with that thought
that question
where are they headed
the ticket knows
not the grand plans once on land
to be honest
neither does the holder
but the lightness of flying
will keep you on your toes
if not a smidge too controlled
security high
counters the freedom
of the sky
so sit back, relax
pace the cabin a bit
pull over for that dinner
on an eerie storming lake along your way
pick up the hitchiker, him with the guitar and a three-legged dog
if you don't act fast enough
you can still reverse down a 3-lane highway
just don't tell them I said it was ok
and, obviously, use the shoulder
upgrade when you can
but it's always more fascinating
to sit with the common man
pick a stranger for stories
share your own
snail's pace chugging to TGV
oh, the places you'll be
buy the ticket
take the ride
chart the
discover the landscape
of your life
"I love it when the least likely blank becomes a blank, because it reminds me that things are not as prohibitive as I think they are when I'm in neutral."
- Robert Downey Jr.
- Robert Downey Jr.
un jour, tu verras. tu te réveillera, sans te rendre compte que le temp est passé si vite.
il la regardait avec des yeux, des yeux qui montrent tout.
a quoi ça sert une montre ? tu m'as pas dit que les yeux montraient tout ? que le temps se compte par tes regards, par des choses qu'on ne vois pas. des choses qui se montrent a nous.
n'est pas? ce n'est pas ça qui donne la bonne valeure aux heures ?
ce n'est pas ça qui garnit aux bon compte ?
j'ai perdu les mots de ma bouche. les sentiments flottaient parmis nos cœurs. deux têtes presque prètent a compris, qu'il n'y a pas vraiment grand chose a comprendre. plus jamais intéressé a se battre.
bon gar, tout ce que je veux te dire c’est : perds pas ton temps.
mais le temps n'est jamais perdu. tu te rends compte ? au moment quand j'ai plus le temps, je serais plus capable a en profiter, laisse tomber. hors du temps.
hors du commun, vas y toi.
t'inquiète mobylette. c'est l'air du temps.
dans la village, l'église sonne midi.
eh-
oui.
je t'aime.
je sais.
il la regardait avec des yeux, des yeux qui montrent tout.
a quoi ça sert une montre ? tu m'as pas dit que les yeux montraient tout ? que le temps se compte par tes regards, par des choses qu'on ne vois pas. des choses qui se montrent a nous.
n'est pas? ce n'est pas ça qui donne la bonne valeure aux heures ?
ce n'est pas ça qui garnit aux bon compte ?
j'ai perdu les mots de ma bouche. les sentiments flottaient parmis nos cœurs. deux têtes presque prètent a compris, qu'il n'y a pas vraiment grand chose a comprendre. plus jamais intéressé a se battre.
bon gar, tout ce que je veux te dire c’est : perds pas ton temps.
mais le temps n'est jamais perdu. tu te rends compte ? au moment quand j'ai plus le temps, je serais plus capable a en profiter, laisse tomber. hors du temps.
hors du commun, vas y toi.
t'inquiète mobylette. c'est l'air du temps.
dans la village, l'église sonne midi.
eh-
oui.
je t'aime.
je sais.
I craned my neck, stood on my tippy toes to see further into his window, the higher I got, the further back my sight caught
sight of myself in a mirror
Hung up against the last of the walls within the depths
If I can see myself,
I reasoned in my dream,
If I can see myself, surely he could see me
I waved at the reflection,
It waved back
Hoping my motions would reflect into his world
And they were indeed caught
So he sat down with my image
and blew lines off a mirror
4 huge lines
While I watched these
Lines I couldn't reach
But he still needed to share with me
In my dream
I felt trapped
sight of myself in a mirror
Hung up against the last of the walls within the depths
If I can see myself,
I reasoned in my dream,
If I can see myself, surely he could see me
I waved at the reflection,
It waved back
Hoping my motions would reflect into his world
And they were indeed caught
So he sat down with my image
and blew lines off a mirror
4 huge lines
While I watched these
Lines I couldn't reach
But he still needed to share with me
In my dream
I felt trapped
Ever think of a ridiculous email address? Wonder who is behind it? Someone awaiting a
deranged imaginative person to reach out and make contact.
Ever have something to say that the whole world needs to hear and you wish there was an email address that could deliver your message?
Ever have something to say that the whole world needs to hear and you wish there was an email address that could deliver your message?
I know I have.
I do what I can. I do what I can.
"When you see no room for innovation in the endless battling cycles of communication, it is time to seek a new environment which gives you freedom to develop intellectually."
"The greater you stretch yourself, the more fear there will be. Where fear exists, there is also the opportunity for growth. Don't hold back now - move on. Use your fear to catapult you forward."
"The greater you stretch yourself, the more fear there will be. Where fear exists, there is also the opportunity for growth. Don't hold back now - move on. Use your fear to catapult you forward."
these places we create as this generation, made of mingling periods
evolving ways of integrating a gap created by those past
overlapping paradox
started from zero (zero?) increased the speed between
receding newly to reconcile the outside with the inside of me,
you, like a Dr. Jekyll, Mr. Hyde
how we shape-shift the seen personality,
differently
from the dream,
the quiet self alone
unknown
and now how we
these complexly simple ways we've drawn to
draw the outside in
exposing unseen
to our very own selves,
others as well
the gift of acheiving unity
its gratification grander
from how far
we've all come from so long
ago
greater crashes in atmosphere settling down
as we stir up more of our own
reaching closer to the center
from whence each half did divide,
consequences of combine
creating a soul
a nerve struck, jolting the source, jolted back ... ^
evolving ways of integrating a gap created by those past
overlapping paradox
started from zero (zero?) increased the speed between
receding newly to reconcile the outside with the inside of me,
you, like a Dr. Jekyll, Mr. Hyde
how we shape-shift the seen personality,
differently
from the dream,
the quiet self alone
unknown
and now how we
these complexly simple ways we've drawn to
draw the outside in
exposing unseen
to our very own selves,
others as well
the gift of acheiving unity
its gratification grander
from how far
we've all come from so long
ago
greater crashes in atmosphere settling down
as we stir up more of our own
reaching closer to the center
from whence each half did divide,
consequences of combine
creating a soul
a nerve struck, jolting the source, jolted back ... ^
Master&RepeatMaster&RepeatMaster&RepeatMaster&RepeatMaster&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&RepeatMaster&RepeatMaster&RepeatMaster&RepeatMaster&Repeat
Master&RepeatMaster&RepeatMaster&RepeatMaster&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&RepeatMaster&RepeatMaster&RepeatMaster&RepeatMaster&Repeat
Master&RepeatMaster&RepeatMaster&RepeatMaster&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&RepeatMaster&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&Repeat
Master&Repeat
You know, when I was 11, I played the trumpet for about 2 months.
Charmed, I'm sure
[Edit: I accidentally wrote "John Coltrane" in the title. Hahaha! Whoops]
[Edit: I accidentally wrote "John Coltrane" in the title. Hahaha! Whoops]
awwww let's make this a classic night came flying onto this page like a pickle, Vlasic might
sliding through a highway of pure liquid height
strutting down a runway \arrogant mufucka i heard your knowledge tight
they toasting over this word like a language, out of sight
into pure thought that's why
level it together we're pushing the roof up off this night
flashing
faces
bulbs in places
up real high,
I'm talking those stars in the sky
literally
I'm talking astrologically, astro- girl don't get too crazy, nomically, like
Cold as balls but the sky, we still can see the light
f*ck your clouds I'm raining down smiles**, alright?
ahhhh doo do doo do do do hey hey,
memories
all the crazy shit I did tonight*
those will be the best memories
david guetta bumpin like
electrodes flowing into speakers
siiiiiiii-
of the house, no newt ginrich like
I'm rollin in the dough of life
Bring it Kid, like cudi
my therapy, who needs therapy?
hey, hey
yea, yea
do do dooo do
*not that crazy, just great peeps, drive!
**
sliding through a highway of pure liquid height
strutting down a runway \arrogant mufucka i heard your knowledge tight
they toasting over this word like a language, out of sight
into pure thought that's why
level it together we're pushing the roof up off this night
flashing
faces
bulbs in places
up real high,
I'm talking those stars in the sky
literally
I'm talking astrologically, astro- girl don't get too crazy, nomically, like
Cold as balls but the sky, we still can see the light
f*ck your clouds I'm raining down smiles**, alright?
ahhhh doo do doo do do do hey hey,
memories
all the crazy shit I did tonight*
those will be the best memories
david guetta bumpin like
electrodes flowing into speakers
siiiiiiii-
of the house, no newt ginrich like
I'm rollin in the dough of life
Bring it Kid, like cudi
my therapy, who needs therapy?
hey, hey
yea, yea
do do dooo do
*not that crazy, just great peeps, drive!
**
*** It's never too late for a dance party with yourselfffffffffffffffff
"Apparently orgasm is the only point where your mind becomes completely empty—you think of nothing for that second. That’s why it’s so compelling—it’s a tiny taste of death. Your mind is void—you have nothing in your head save white light."
— Jeff Buckley
From
— Jeff Buckley
From
