1234 – feist
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“She is not given to fawning over celebrities, no more than most people, but can’t help being drawn to the aura of fame – and more than fame, actual immortality – implied by the presence of a movie star in a trailer on the corner of MacDougal and Spring streets. These two girls standing beside Clarissa, twenty if not younger, defiantly hefty, slouching into each other, laden with brightly colored bags from discount stores; these two girls will grow to middle and then old age, either wither or bloat; the cemeteries in which they’re buried will fall eventually into ruin, the grass grown wild, browsed at night by dogs; and when all that remains of these girls is a few silver fillings lost underground the woman in the trailer, be she Meryl Streep or Vanessa Redgrave or even Susan Sarandon, will still be known. She will exist in the archives, in books; her recorded voice will be stored away among other precious and venerated objects.”
– ‘The Hours’ by Michael Cunningham
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your ex-lover is dead by the stars.
a cover that my brother (guitar) and i (vocals) did.
i can only ever hope to write a song like this.
(Source: https://www.youtube.com/)
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almost-freedom.
last day of classes today; did my econ presentation and handed in a performance task – happy mr. griem? you finally have some marks. no need for that ‘n’ on my report card now, right?
but there’s still a bunch of work i have to get done and it’s weighing me down, keeping me from being absolutely elated – and this is all aside from exams. damn my fierce procrastination.
i feel out of focus though; my one-track mind is set on summer suns, lazy afternoons and liberation. how am i supposed to write exams in this kind of weather? at least they’ll take place where there are no windows – i won’t actually see what i’m missing, yet i’ll feel it seeping into every pore of my body; the tug of the heat and the teasing of the outdoors while i write chicken-scratch in IB notebooks.
i keep thinking about england and all the brilliance it will bring. i face it with a radiant, happy trepidation; the stuff that comes with the thought of visiting any foreign land. i want to let loose, yet i don’t want to lose myself.
too bad i’m a heathen at heart.
there are thoughts of being a novelty, seeing new things, meeting new people – the romanticized visions of prospective love; a temporary escape from my life, something fresh and new and wonderful.
summer in a foreign land?
goodbye, revision.
i can’t set my mind on you today.
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“For the first time in my life I had known the intense pleasure of analyzing another person, manipulating that person toward my own ends. It was a new experience; in the past I had always been too impulsive, and whenever I had come close to understanding someone, it had been pure accident. Now I had caught a sudden glimpse of the marvelous mechanism of human reflexes, and the power that lies in the spoken word. I felt sorry that I had come to it through lies. The day might come when I would love someone passionately, and would have to search warily, gently for the way to reach his heart.”
– Cecile, ‘Bonjour Tristesse’ by Francoise Sagan
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“Although I did not share my father’s intense aversion to ugliness – which often led us to associate with stupid people – I did feel vaguely uncomfortable in the presence of anyone completely devoid of physical charm. Their resignation to the fact that they were unattractive seemed to me somehow indecent. For what are we looking for if not to please? I do not know if the desire to attract others comes from a superabundance of vitality, possessiveness, or the hidden, unspoken need to be reassured.”
– Cecile, ‘Bonjour Tristesse’ by Francoise Sagan
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sufjan stevens – to be alone with you
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night.
i don’t know what i’m doing but i can’t help it.
these nighttime footsteps aren’t going to cure anything. they’re probably making things even worse.but i can’t help looking for another detour, trying to stay out for as long as i can, turning away from a path homeward bound.
breathing night air, the blinding city lights, they make me feel like there’s something more to all this. maybe i’m a part of something bigger.
or maybe i just need an escape.
and i walk through the night with my headphones in my ears and notice all the people and the cars and the little open-late shops, but they’re nothing more than a blur.
i am a part of this blur.
the night cradles me, comforts me by whispering in my ear, ‘it is not tomorrow yet.’
i still have time before i face another day. there is still this quiet – yet not so quiet – darkness.
and i lose myself in it.
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no, you cannot take me out to coffee. i don’t care how many times you ask.
i don’t understand why you’re so stubborn.
what can possibly be so hard to understand about the words ‘no thanks’?i don’t want to get to know you.
i don’t want you to get to know me.i may be smiling when i turn you down, but it doesn’t mean i’m happy.
it doesn’t mean i’m playing hard to get.
it doesn’t mean i secretly want you.i. do. not. want. you.
just get over it.
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elaha and i stumbled upon this japanese band playing on queen west.
i felt like taking a seat on the concrete and joining the musical festivities, but i don’t know japanese.
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questions.
it’s when you start asking the bigger questions, that’s when it starts to get scary. you start wondering, “what’s the point?” and then things fall apart and you’re going in one direction and there’s no turning back.
what am i working towards?
why am i so damn unhappy?and it kind of eats away at you – at your insides, somewhere hidden away, somewhere secret – and you feel hollow and empty. everything changes and you’re left wondering and questioning and searching; searching for something that’ll make you smile.
what would happen if i died right now?
would i have been able to say that i truly – with every fiber of my being, truly – lived?you become introspective and you just stay like that, absorbed and lost inside yourself, in the recesses of your mind. and the worst part about it is you can’t confess to anyone because you don’t know how. i can’t even say it properly myself. words get lost too easily. they stray from what you want people to hear.
but i am not lost like this. i can find my way. there is a point to all this. everything is worth it. this is life. i am alive.
i. am. not. lost. like. this.
