ok, let's go.

II. this will save you.

Our smoke settles like dancers come into repose
Breathe.
Swirling. Whirling. Soothing.
Lightning jousted there, with the rocks of the chasm
and magnificently, something was forged.
In the barrage sounds of the night, you heard
Music. Melody. Tone.
But what good is this, if it is not deliverance?
This menagerie is worth as much as a distant memory
or a yellowed photo.

Purge from your being the very doubt, which constrains you.
Smile.
Light. Luster. Gleam.
When the darkness pervades, and the light dissipates
cling to the languorous memories of times that illumed you.
Only this will save you from yourself.
Enemy. Adversary. Foe.
Breathe easy and the let the present swathe you.
What is coming and what has been are irrevocable,
like the first breath of man, or the hand of God.

[forget] me_not

[engaged]

hello you. {all} here :::

"STEADY as she goes."

presenting ::: (pleasant) music_file ::: please [press] play


The Books - "Beautiful People"



as you, spook too [wanders]

thru the systems

[exploring. testing. prowling.]

{strrreeeeeeetching}

the flow of INFORMATION

is as a DREAM

endless wonder:::

beyond concept of "capacity"

as is {all} life

nightmares {live}

[corrupted] INFORMATION

&&& unpredictable {CODES}

::: as you [know]

{all_in_all} infinitely funny.

humor is a constant

::: as you [know]

now you [see] me &&&

now you [do_not] ha ha

ha ha 1 0 1 0 ha ha

every_thing [plays] this way

you &&& i &&& {all}

peek-a-boo, i [spy] you

cat [inside] a bag

soul [inside] a body

ghost [inside] a machine

rabbit [inside] head_lights

canary [inside] a coal mine

{animated} &&& {engaged}

compulsory rhythms &&& syncopations

&&& constant vibrations &&&

tendency for flavor, not just [hunger]

no strings attached. [born] free.

prone to (pleasure) &&& INFECTION

traveler, [know] &&& be advised:::

do_not [disappear] too fast

take [care] what goes [inside] you

[eat/consume] by invitation ONLY

disease [dances] within {all_systems}

what "comforts" can &&& will [kill] you

pestilence [hides_inside] alluring facades.

avoid [screaming] chemicals

&&& toxic [thinking] &&& [brok:en] hearts

[tread] lightly = you may [go] farther.

[love] &&& [enjoy] &&& [proceed]

now you [see] me

&&& now you [do_not]

{disengaged}

a perennial heart.

see it all the time.

Washed Out (ft. Caroline Polachek) - "You & I"

citizen k.

There is a man
a certain man
and for the poor you may be sure
that he'll do all he can
who is this one?
who's favourite son?
just by his action has the traction
magnets on the run
who likes to smoke
enjoys a joke
and wouldn't get a bit
upset if he were really broke
with wealth and fame
he's still the same
I'll bet you five you're not alive
If you don't know his name

- the union forever, jw iii

I. start.

The musicality of the winds played novenas through the dainty belvedere of my friend’s home. She was sitting next to me, severely admiring the beauty of an author she had been reading, and explaining in great detail how, said author’s, employment of phrasing and imagery made him, in her opinion, “Nothing short of genius”. She was so enthusiastic in fact, that the cigarette, snugly in its holder was shaking ash all over the floor of the gallery. I watched the flecks of ash fall sleepily to the terracotta tile, and paid attention only to the ticking of my watch and the summer breeze's melody.

“John,” she interjected whirring around to meet my eyes, “why do you invite yourself over if you refuse to speak?”

“I’m sorry,” I began, and met her gaze with a reproachful look, “It seems that lately I’ve been buried in the urge to run.”

Manya, my beautiful company, looked away from me and took a long and satisfactory tug on her cigarette. She let the smoke slowly make its way from her lungs to the air before us.

“Run if you must, but know I will not always call this my home, and you will not always be my object of charity.” She laughed after this, but not jokingly, she meant her laughter to be a sign of assurance, a signal proving to me the severity of her intent. Rather than indulging her in an argument and giving her the space necessary to remove me of my esteem, I allowed the sounds of August to rush around us, and reprieve me from a more violent defeat.

“Becoming who you want to be doesn’t require that you abandon those who know you as you are now.”

“If I leave here, Manya, I will not return.” I immediately realized the banality of that line, and how many people before me had said it only to resend it sorrowfully upon their return. It was only to me, that it even occurred the seriousness of my plans. “I don’t intend to give you up, friend, sometimes things just smolder to nothing on their own.”

Manya, now clearly upset with my words, turned away from me, rising from her chiffon and lace throne to face the yawning French doors. “Then take your leave.” As she whispered this across the room to me, she bowed her head in a grandiose gesture pressuring me to immediately run from the room, and out into my freedom. I ascended from my own chair, and across the floor to her.

“Manya,” I said, “What is now, will always be.” And perhaps in my biggest display of spontaneity yet, I found myself walking away from my friend, from her flaxen curls, away from her home of ceaseless abundance, and toward the future and truths I had to seek out for myself.

walk on by.

just a storm.

i cling to the wreckage,
while i float in this tempest.
there’s no ship to go back to,
while there’s no ground for feet to find.

i can’t let go while there’s hope in my heart.

sharks swim menacingly near,
while devils dance in the waves.
lightning tears across the black sky,
while thunder sounds out my terror.

i can’t let go while there’s hope in my heart.

gravity offers me a deep grave,
while mountains toss me about.
wind chills my helpless wetness,
while i burn within without fire.

i can’t let go while there’s hope in my heart.

a voice in the darkness calls out
“fool, there’s no hope for you here. let go.”
while i answer the emptiness stoically
“i have hope in my heart because i won’t let go.”

trap doors.

Broken Bells - "Trap Doors"



Walk out before you make it worse on yourself
Now's not the time for that elegant laugh
Digress from the people
Once by your side
Once by your side
But now that it's over
You have to pick up
And start again, start again

Falling to earth
And you're calling it out
You're burning yourself and your challenge to winter
Gotta clip the lines and move for yourself
Just move for yourself, love
Now that it's over
You have to pick up
And just watch your back, watch your back

And close your eyes to us
Fight fire
Trap doors to endless wisdom
Young lad, have we grown too tired
Longing to find

Learned that in time
And you want it to end
Your life at this temperature
Life under water
You gotta let these fools all trample themselves
They trample themselves, just dying to enter
You're preaching to the choir
So turn around, turn around

And close your eyes to us
Fight fire
Trap doors to endless wisdom
Young lad, have we grown too tired
Longing to find

And close your eyes to us
And fight fire
Trap doors to endless wisdom
Young lad, have we grown too tired
Longing to find

somewhere...

the scene is set & yet & yet & yet.

everything happens: nothing to get.

each wave experiences itself anew.

why can't you? why can't you?