Wednesday, January 30, 2013

And we stood there on the stage, looking down at the people below us, casting spells on them with our hand movements and the movements of our lips. It was the magic of music. Oceans of understanding. Raindrops of sincerity. Shards of a soul. Genies arising from the bottles of our mind, granting us for one brief moment whatever we might wish for, until the song ends, and reality descends again. I wish I could wrap myself in a blanket of music. Live in a lake of listening. Make music like a mysterious mermaid forgetting the minutiae of every single day. I just want to play. 

Friday, January 25, 2013

I dreamt you recorded an EP and sent it to me. Why are you stealing my dreams in my dreams? You are somehow still a part of me and your ghost won't let me be.

Thursday, January 24, 2013


Anne Hathaway

by Carol Ann Duffy from The World's Wife
'Item I gyve unto my wife my second best bed ...'(from Shakespeare's will)

The bed we loved in was a spinning world
of forests, castles, torchlight, clifftops, seas
where we would dive for pearls. My lover's words
were shooting stars which fell to earth as kisses
on these lips; my body now a softer rhyme
to his, now echo, assonance; his touch
a verb dancing in the centre of a noun.
Some nights, I dreamed he'd written me, the bed
a page beneath his writer's hands. Romance
and drama played by touch, by scent, by taste.
In the other bed, the best, our guests dozed on,
dribbling their prose. My living laughing love -
I hold him in the casket of my widow's head
as he held me upon that next best bed.

Tuesday, January 22, 2013

"Late, late yestreen I saw the new Moon,
With the old Moon in her arms;
And I fear, I fear, my Master dear!
We shall have a deadly storm."

-Ballad of Sir Patrick Spence. 

Sunday, January 20, 2013

A feeling has propelled me back to an era. Fleetwood rocks me into relapse. There is a holy war going on inside of me, I remember how bad it can be. Faith never made it easier, I thought it would. Superstition isn't helping either. I'm following blindly invisible forces, searching for something to grasp onto in the darkness. I can't see, the darkness disorients me. But when I open my eyes how terrible it is to realize I am the only one in control of a life that is so uncontrollable. No, I will continue to feel around until I find something to hold onto. There must be some sense to all this.

Wednesday, January 16, 2013

Someone speaks in explosions and my mind wanders to the satisfying taste of a cigarette. That filthy feeling in my mouth that I get. Oh God, it's not over yet. There is still a hole where you used to be and it makes it impossible to sleep. I stayed up, just lying in bed, writing songs for you inside of my head (if you asked me the truth I would lie instead) but it's all been said before. I would like to refer you to ten songs (and maybe more) that I have written. It's this thing that makes it impossible for me to believe good things will happen to me. It's because I've already been too happy. We can't have it all so I guess we won't. Still, I crave that filthy feeling.

Tuesday, January 15, 2013

I used to think about you everyday. I used to dream about you. It all went away. Where did it go? 

Monday, January 14, 2013

I want to surround myself in a sparkling light so I never have to feel the black behind the cracks. The night is settling in but the darkness will dissipate. Concentrate. Concentrate. Breathe. Believe. 

Thursday, January 10, 2013

Don't fuck with me, don't fuck with me
Since you shipped my ass off to sea
I never knew where I was going
I went where the water was flowing

I know I've been gone a long time
But I'm back and I want what is mine.

-Jai Paul, BTSTU

Wednesday, January 9, 2013

"To break the midnight air ; tho' the rais'd ear,
Intensely listening, drinks in every breath.
How deep the silence, yet how loud the praise !
But are they silent all ? or is there not
A tongue in every star that talks with man,
And wooes him to be wise ; nor wooes in vain :
This dead of midnight is the noon of thought,
And wisdom mounts her zenith with the stars."


-Barbauld, "A Summer Evening's Meditation"

Sunday, January 6, 2013








This institution is invisible bars. I am here because someone told me to be. Confinement is conflicting me. I want to flee, but oh, they won't let me be. Those who think they know better than us. They will run our lives if we let them.