rina
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2005 30 December :: 10.21pm
:: Mood: destructive
:: Music: comptine d'un autre: l'apres midi
start with something you love
pretend everything you've ever known will only be forgotten.
and that this life you're looking for,
[the-spark-the-drive-the-meaning]
will never be found.
think, if you will,
about postcards from future faces, past places, infinite spaces.
and that this link you've searched for,
[these-murmur-whisper-slurs-of-ours]
can't ever be replaced.
imagine that your world, life, universe, doesn't belong to you.
and all that you can remember is gone,
[frenetic-thoughts-memory-loss-no-regrets]
because it was never up to you anyways.
try if you might to create a time when everything you have is everything you aren't.
and believe you have an identity of your own,
[the-symmetry-the-blasphemy-the-hypocrisy]
when really you're just a mirror of another.
now think of us,
[the-past-present-future-us]
and imagine that none of it mattered.
the end is here
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cowboy67
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2005 24 December :: 3.59pm
click
2 day[s] remain |
the end is here
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cowboy67
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2005 23 December :: 2.02pm
this is hilarious and sad at the same time
this is how one is accepted into american culture.
the end is here
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cowboy67
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2005 21 December :: 7.20pm
the invitation
it doesn't interest me what you do for a living.
i want to know what you ache for
and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.
it doesn't interest me how old you are.
i want to know if you will risk looking like a fool
for love
for your dream
for the adventure of being alive.
it doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon.
i want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow
if you have been opened by life's betrayals
or have become shrivelled and closed
from fear of further pain.
i want to know if you can sit with pain
mine or your own
without moving to hide it
or fade it
or fix it.
i want to know if you can be with joy
mine or your own
if you can dance with wildness
and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes
without cautioning us to
be careful
be realistic
remember the limitations of being human.
it doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me
is true.
i want to know if you can
disappoint another
to be true to yourself.
if you can bear the accusation of betrayal
and not betray your own soul.
if you can be faithless
and therefore trustworthy.
i want to know if you can see beauty
even when it is not pretty
every day.
and if you can source your own life
from its presence.
i want to know if you can live with failure
yours and mine
and still stand at the edge of the lake
and shout to the silver of the full moon,
"yes."
it doesn't interest me
to know where you live or how much money you have.
i want to know if you can get up
after the night of grief and despair
weary and bruised to the bone
and do what needs to be done
to feed the children.
it doesn't interest me who you know
or how you came to be here.
i want to know if you will stand
in the center of the fire
with me
and not shrink back.
it doesn't interest me where or what or with whom
you have studied.
i want to know what sustains you
from the inside
when all else falls away.
i want to know if you can be alone
with yourself
and if you truly like the company you keep
in the empty moments.
written by: oriah mountain dreamer
2 day[s] remain |
the end is here
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cowboy67
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2005 20 December :: 3.24pm
i wasn't born to follow.
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alastar
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2005 17 December :: 8.49pm
If this was paper, I'd burn it.
1 day[s] remain |
the end is here
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rina
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::
2005 16 December :: 3.12am
:: Mood: insightful
:: Music: mad world - gary jules
the dreams in which im dying are the best i've ever had
adaptation is compromise.
it takes a while to figure out, but once you get it,
life doesnt look so pristine
and school doesnt seem so important.
go ahead, try it.
1 day[s] remain |
the end is here
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cowboy67
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2005 15 December :: 3.11am
happy birthday, big boy!
from all of us gladiators, we wish you the best and hope you have a great day! happy 23rd, joe!
1 day[s] remain |
the end is here
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cowboy67
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2005 14 December :: 3.45pm
"There is a vitality, a life force, a quickening that is translated through you into action, and because there is only one of you in all time, this expression is unique. And if you block it, it will never exist through any other medium and be lost. The world will not have it.
It is not your business to determine how good it is; nor how it compares with other expressions. It is your business to keep it yours, clearly and directly, to keep the channel open.
You do not even have to believe in yourself or your work. You have to keep open and aware directly to the urge that motivates you. Keep the channel open.
No artist is pleased. There is no satisfaction whatever at any time. There is only a queer, divine dissatisfaction, a blessed unrest that keeps us marching and makes us more alive than the others."
Martha Graham
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cowboy67
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2005 10 December :: 4.25pm
a rush and a push and the land is ours
they said, "there's too much caffeine in your bloodstream and a lack of real spice in your life."
i said, "leave me alone, because i'm alright, dad."
1 day[s] remain |
the end is here
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cowboy67
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2005 8 December :: 2.34am
don't lie to me.
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cowboy67
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2005 6 December :: 3.43pm
today is sue's birthday and i am making her a chocolate cake.
4 day[s] remain |
the end is here
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rina
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::
2005 5 December :: 8.20pm
:: Mood: discontent
:: Music: halcyon and on and on - orbital
when words are slurs
tongue-tied, watchful eyes,
a slight of hand could mean
fin
for the both of us
smoking pot, parking lots,
i hoped it wouldn't
end up like this,
i'm tired of our paralysis
waiting room, icu,
i never thought white could look
as barren as it does,
while i wait for the cause
misconceptions, false convictions,
you're failing just like
you normally do,
and the lcd is falling with you
funeral march, heavy heart,
i never wanted for you to
sink this low,
i suppose you'll never know
2 day[s] remain |
the end is here
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cowboy67
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::
2005 5 December :: 4.30pm
today i saw a bumper sticker that read:
the christian right is neither.
1 day[s] remain |
the end is here
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cowboy67
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::
2005 5 December :: 1.23am
when i think about forests being cut down, animals dying out, lakes, rivers, and oceans being polluted, and the general destruction of the natural world, i want to cry.
defenseless beauty and perfected balance are dying, and no one cares.
2 day[s] remain |
the end is here
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rina
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::
2005 4 December :: 7.25pm
:: Mood: busy
:: Music: summer skin - death cab
how a theoretical physicist finds love (re: when science stops working)
it's in the cracks, the in-betweens, the explained unexplainables.
when freckles go from pigments,
to constellations,
to colliding molecules and supernovas.
it's the amaranthine sky filled with nuclear reactions.
and you know you could just call it rain,
instead of thinking that precipitate,
is just another word for change
and when life becomes less measured in minutes,
but more in breaths, glances, sighs,
you think its time
to stop calculating when the chemistry will be created
because in a room full of whiskey and wishes,
when it ceases to be music and instead becomes
cerulean beats and brick-red rhythms,
thinking clearly doesn't register
what was once gravity and equations
slowly, gradually, evolves into invisible hands and,
light goes from enigma,
to heart beats,
to artery explosions .
the end is here
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rina
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2005 4 December :: 2.28am
:: Mood: whatever
:: Music: i will follow you into the dark - death cab for cutie
love of mine, someday you will die
i hate when people look down upon me because i don't harbor the same beliefs as them.
or when they try to save me from the error of my ways.
the error of seeing religions more as guidelines than a cult.
which is harsh, i know.
but i cannot believe a celestial being created the earth in six days, and that humans appeared out of no where.
lately i've been reading about several religions, traditions, mythologies.
i've decided to pick and choose,
and then form my own religion.
a set of beliefs that would fluxuate and change as i realize, discover, experience.
the end is here
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alastar
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2005 26 November :: 11.12am
Never personal. Never real.
These are the thoughts of a dream.
These are the thoughts of a ghost.
This is the diary of someone long ago buried.
And I will continue to write it for him.
1 day[s] remain |
the end is here
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