I would fly to sail a while
and feel the breeze meet my (insert here, please, yes, insert)
meet all that stands still
and all that can’t let go
freshen up for the company
say everything that matters
everything that rings right and true (can you say alleluia)
push the lines push the borders
dust up dust gone
slit the truth’s throat open and swim swim swim
be here when it matters
be there (click / heels – repeat) when no one cares anymore
for this is the truth
I’d rather die caring
Ok en code en ctrl+x en ctrl+v en components… Make sure, make sure they’re writable.
Trois jours moins quelques heures, la dernière marche seul, la dernière ride seule.
Et oui la valse des emails des downloads des nudges des soupirs sourirs.
Et oui maman est de retour, les draps propres, la vaisselle faite, les lunches.
I’ve set my permissions to 777.
Waiting for your upload.
I’ll install by default.
…
And when you loose control, you’ll reap the harvest you have sown.
And as the fear grows, the bad blood slows and turns to stone.
And it’s too late to lose the weight you used to need to throw around.
So have a good drown, as you go down, all alone,
Dragged down by the stone.
-Waters, Gilmour
…
Not necessarily drowned. Not yet. Touched, the dream bursts. An oily bubble lazily dragging its ass around. All but waiting for a pointing finger.
As skin gets cooler, as hearts grow fonder, as tears flow harder. I touched too.
Blow. Another big, round, sun filled, colorized dream.
Blow. Two.
Me away.
Nothing paper can’t hold. Nothing music can’t tell. Nothing my heart can’t take.
But the trail of a wet burst.
So blow for both of us.
…
Well, anybody can be just like me, obviously
But then, now again, not too many can be like you, fortunately.
-Dylan
My haves do not always take care of my wants.
Some wants I don’t always realize are already haves.
Where x is wants and y is haves
Identify the value of each variable.
The flesh is weak.
nothing’s shocking
But easily discarded if one was so determined.
if one was so inclined
And yet beyond the ugliness lies the truth about us all.
fire is the outcome of hypocrisy
I’m circling something. Closing in. I just have to find what is at the center. Reading back entries I can clearly see how hard I was running from everything. Real and imaginary. How I thought I was going towards something when in fact I was leaving it all behind. The pull I think was actually a push. I’m not sure the answer is here or there, but I’m importing old notes tonight. My archives page is screwed up, something I have to fix, within the K2 settings. But all the original notes from blogspot will be here nonetheless. I don’t know… Something’s missing. Purpose?
This one still feels close to me. Some things I’ve written I’ve forgotten the reasons, the feelings. But Drips resounds still.
From my fingers
From my eyes
From my heart
Between my legsAll the drips converge. They mean the same thing. Fusion of my fluidity.
I am water. I am blood.
I realize that everything I’ve tried to put into compartments actually belongs together.
The reasons for this, the explanations for that.
The noise… of course it won’t stop. It’s the perpetual garbage truck.
And it’s the drips.
I fucking ache at times.
I fucking leak.
Let’s step away from. Him.
Zarathustra is silent. No secrets whispered.
Ananke’s perfume might be in the air, or it might be her ghost.
J’ai marché sur ton karma.
Faire le bien, c’est d’aimer aussi.
Mon cahier ouvert au Huitième Degré…
Sapere aude.
Rien de mystique dans un sourire du matin.
Only the knowledge that this is right.
Red hair
I
Do
A hunger need depth unimaginable
Yearns she does, cries still as she watches angels sooth winter back to sleep
She too
Has
As we learn to live as one at last, I know alone is relative
like a north wind
blew through a house without doors
froze a movement rising
overturned a table laid
like a tidal wave tidal wave against will and want
the sand is still the sand is not moving
in the place I know best
the well
where the winds and the tides don’t reach
On a morning like this, I wish for lonely nights. I wish I didn’t bring out the worst in people.
This is the kind of morning I could hit snooze all the way till noon. Just not to face the trail of gray and pink I’ve left behind. Sometimes the colors fade, or blend, or completely separate.
I’m dancing on a ribbon of grey, unwinding going up, I want it to turn pink, or whatever color that doesn’t remind me.
Whatever fucking color. So much rides on this day, so little could come out if it.
I’ll just let it flow, let it wrap itself around some untouched light.
Blur the frown I’ve brought. All I wanted was a smile.