I love neutral milk hotel
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Friday, December 30, 2011
Slow Lament by. Pablo Neruda
Into the night of the heart
your name drops slowly
and moves in silence and falls
and breaks and spreads its water.
Something wishes for its slight harm
and its infinite and short esteem,
like the step of a lost one
suddenly heard.
Suddenly, suddenly listened to
and spread in the heart
with sad insistence and increase
like a cold autumnal dream.
The thick wheel of the earth,
its tire moist with oblivion,
spins, cutting time
into inaccessible halves.
Its hard goblets cover your heart
spilt upon the cold earth
with its poor blue sparks
flying in the voice of the rain.
your name drops slowly
and moves in silence and falls
and breaks and spreads its water.
Something wishes for its slight harm
and its infinite and short esteem,
like the step of a lost one
suddenly heard.
Suddenly, suddenly listened to
and spread in the heart
with sad insistence and increase
like a cold autumnal dream.
The thick wheel of the earth,
its tire moist with oblivion,
spins, cutting time
into inaccessible halves.
Its hard goblets cover your heart
spilt upon the cold earth
with its poor blue sparks
flying in the voice of the rain.
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Oh Kevin Devine
"you awake in the hospital in a thrift store suit
you hear your lover's voice from the waiting room
you shut your eyes and pray for peace
think i'm not here this isn't me
this isn't something i would do
i know the complicated truth
a big top tent a firey sword
i make a mask of lions roar
but they're not real and never were
and soon she won't be real either
this is the life you went and earned
because you never fucking learn
you could use up all of your years
fixing the mess you make in here
so as her nervous dress draws closer
dress heels click off their approach
you clutch your chest and whisper
"oh no, what will i do? what will i do?
my love, my love, what will i do?"
P. larkin
I work all day, and get half drunk at night.
Waking at four to soundless dark, I stare.
In time the curtain edges will grow light.
Till then I see what's really always there:
Unresting death, a whole day nearer now,
Making all thought impossible but how
And where and when I shall myself die.
Arid interrogation: yet the dread
Of dying, and being dead,
Flashes afresh to hold and horrify.
The mind blanks at the glare. Not in remorse
– The good not used, the love not given, time
Torn off unused – nor wretchedly because
An only life can take so long to climb
Clear of its wrong beginnings, and may never:
But at the total emptiness forever,
The sure extinction that we travel to
And shall be lost in always. Not to be here,
Not to be anywhere,
And soon; nothing more terrible, nothing more true.
This is a special way of being afraid
No trick dispels. Religion used to try,
That vast moth-eaten musical brocade
Created to pretend we never die,
And specious stuff that says no rational being
Can fear a thing it cannot feel, not seeing
That this is what we fear – no sight, no sound,
No touch or taste or smell, nothing to think with,
Nothing to love or link with,
The anaesthetic from which none come round.
And so it stays just on the edge of vision,
A small unfocused blur, a standing chill
That slows each impulse down to indecision.
Most things may never happen: this one will,
And realisation of it rages out
In furnace fear when we are caught without
People or drink. Courage is no good:
It means not scaring others. Being brave
Lets no-one off the grave.
Death is no different whined at than withstood.
Slowly light strengthens, and the room takes shape.
It stands plain as a wardrobe, what we know,
Have always known, know that we can't escape
Yet can't accept. One side will have to go.
Meanwhile telephones crouch, getting ready to ring
In locked-up offices, and all the uncaring
Intricate rented world begins to rouse.
The sky is white as clay, with no sun.
Work has to be done.
Postmen like doctors go from house to house.”
Waking at four to soundless dark, I stare.
In time the curtain edges will grow light.
Till then I see what's really always there:
Unresting death, a whole day nearer now,
Making all thought impossible but how
And where and when I shall myself die.
Arid interrogation: yet the dread
Of dying, and being dead,
Flashes afresh to hold and horrify.
The mind blanks at the glare. Not in remorse
– The good not used, the love not given, time
Torn off unused – nor wretchedly because
An only life can take so long to climb
Clear of its wrong beginnings, and may never:
But at the total emptiness forever,
The sure extinction that we travel to
And shall be lost in always. Not to be here,
Not to be anywhere,
And soon; nothing more terrible, nothing more true.
This is a special way of being afraid
No trick dispels. Religion used to try,
That vast moth-eaten musical brocade
Created to pretend we never die,
And specious stuff that says no rational being
Can fear a thing it cannot feel, not seeing
That this is what we fear – no sight, no sound,
No touch or taste or smell, nothing to think with,
Nothing to love or link with,
The anaesthetic from which none come round.
And so it stays just on the edge of vision,
A small unfocused blur, a standing chill
That slows each impulse down to indecision.
Most things may never happen: this one will,
And realisation of it rages out
In furnace fear when we are caught without
People or drink. Courage is no good:
It means not scaring others. Being brave
Lets no-one off the grave.
Death is no different whined at than withstood.
Slowly light strengthens, and the room takes shape.
It stands plain as a wardrobe, what we know,
Have always known, know that we can't escape
Yet can't accept. One side will have to go.
Meanwhile telephones crouch, getting ready to ring
In locked-up offices, and all the uncaring
Intricate rented world begins to rouse.
The sky is white as clay, with no sun.
Work has to be done.
Postmen like doctors go from house to house.”
Sunday, November 13, 2011
More and more- M.Attwood
More and more frequently the edges
of me dissolve and I become
a wish to assimilate the world, including
you, if possible through the skin
like a cool plant's tricks with oxygen
and live by a harmless green burning.
I would not consume
you or ever
finish, you would still be there
surrounding me, complete
as the air.
Unfortunately I don't have leaves.
Instead I have eyes
and teeth and other non-green
things which rule out osmosis.
So be careful, I mean it,
I give you fair warning:
This kind of hunger draws
everything into its own
space; nor can we
talk it all over, have a calm
rational discussion.
There is no reason for this, only
a starved dog's logic about bones.
of me dissolve and I become
a wish to assimilate the world, including
you, if possible through the skin
like a cool plant's tricks with oxygen
and live by a harmless green burning.
I would not consume
you or ever
finish, you would still be there
surrounding me, complete
as the air.
Unfortunately I don't have leaves.
Instead I have eyes
and teeth and other non-green
things which rule out osmosis.
So be careful, I mean it,
I give you fair warning:
This kind of hunger draws
everything into its own
space; nor can we
talk it all over, have a calm
rational discussion.
There is no reason for this, only
a starved dog's logic about bones.
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Friday, September 2, 2011
Monday, August 29, 2011
Le dénouement des artistes
You blew me
your blue notes
all dulcet & somber
& (un?)contrived —
A not unbeautiful melody
(it was tangential).
You wrote me
your rote notes
all placid & profound
& (un?)orchestrated —
A not un-articulate verse
(it was inconsequential).
You painted me
your pained strokes
all bold & brilliant
& (un?)resolved —
A not un-awe-inspiring vision
(it was inessential).
Because
(although)
we could conspire
(and thrive)
In truth (and you know):
I would eat you alive.
-Jayarrar
The Athiest Manifesto
http://atheistempire.com/reference/news/other/Lewis,%20Joseph%20-%20An%20Atheist%20Manifesto.pdf
This just about sums up my opinions.
This just about sums up my opinions.
Friday, August 26, 2011
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
To live without dead time
"To live without dead time means to embody a great refusal, to find pleasure in struggle, to transform every moment of existence into a repudiation of the consumerist nightmare and an affirmation of revolutionary possibility. A semester, a year, a decade without Big Macs, Frappucinos and World of Warcraft but overflowing with midnight adventures of blackspotted billboards, guerrilla gardening and spectacular synchronized global memewar actions. Imagine if a huge number of us start living in this way, turning daily life itself into a form of resistance that re-enchants the city and reawakens the promise of a people’s insurrection. The way forward is through this kind of radical play."
-Charles Peterson
'There is very good reason to believe that, in a generation or so, capitalism itself will no longer exist – most obviously, as ecologists keep reminding us, because it’s impossible to maintain an engine of perpetual growth forever on a finite planet, and the current form of capitalism doesn’t seem to be capable of generating the kind of vast technological breakthroughs and mobilizations that would be required for us to start finding and colonizing any other planets. Yet faced with the prospect of capitalism actually ending, the most common reaction – even from those who call themselves “progressives” – is simply fear. We cling to what exists because we can no longer imagine an alternative that wouldn’t be even worse.'
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Daydream nation: I mean, things don't need to last forever to be perfect.
Caroline Wexler: What did you call me?
Jenny: I think I just called you a slut, slut.
Caroline Wexler: Why?
Jenny: Because everyone knows that you've banged, like, forty different guys since you came here.
Caroline Wexler: Really? Forty?
[pause to look in mirror]
Caroline Wexler: Okay, let's just say that I have banged forty guys. What's the problem? You're just jealous because you've been, ah, brainwashed by puritanical assholes who think sex is a sin. But then again, your, ah, little gerbil-sized brain has been reprogrammed by the media to believe that sex is the be-all, end-all. So now you're stuck, right? 'Cause on the one hand you love to fuck, but afterwards you feel overwhelmed by guilt & you're not sure why. Maybe it's because sex is neither as good or as evil as you've built it up to be.
Jenny: [hurt pause] Shut up, slut!
Caroline Wexler: Jenny, seriously, listen to me! The highlight of your entire life is gonna be your yearbook photo. You are already nostalgic for shit that has not even happened yet 'cause you have so precious little to look forward to. You're gonna spend the first half of your life planning your wedding & you're gonna spend the second half regretting it. & if I were you - & thank god I'm not , 'cause you have terrible hair - I would stop & I would reconsider your whole value system, because everything you know is wrong.
Jenny: I think I just called you a slut, slut.
Caroline Wexler: Why?
Jenny: Because everyone knows that you've banged, like, forty different guys since you came here.
Caroline Wexler: Really? Forty?
[pause to look in mirror]
Caroline Wexler: Okay, let's just say that I have banged forty guys. What's the problem? You're just jealous because you've been, ah, brainwashed by puritanical assholes who think sex is a sin. But then again, your, ah, little gerbil-sized brain has been reprogrammed by the media to believe that sex is the be-all, end-all. So now you're stuck, right? 'Cause on the one hand you love to fuck, but afterwards you feel overwhelmed by guilt & you're not sure why. Maybe it's because sex is neither as good or as evil as you've built it up to be.
Jenny: [hurt pause] Shut up, slut!
Caroline Wexler: Jenny, seriously, listen to me! The highlight of your entire life is gonna be your yearbook photo. You are already nostalgic for shit that has not even happened yet 'cause you have so precious little to look forward to. You're gonna spend the first half of your life planning your wedding & you're gonna spend the second half regretting it. & if I were you - & thank god I'm not , 'cause you have terrible hair - I would stop & I would reconsider your whole value system, because everything you know is wrong.
What would I do without Douglas Coupland?
"I think that every reader on earth has a list of cherished books as unique as their fingerprints....I think that, as you age, you tend to gravitate towards the classics, but those aren't the books that give you the same sort of hope for the world that a cherished book does."
-Douglas Coupland
I agree with that quote so much, and funny thing is most of his books are on my cherished book list. I reread them over and over, I more or less just carry life after god with me all the time. Nothing makes me feel better like douglas coupland.
But I have other cherished books to. I was thinking about them.
Some books just stay with you because they just mark this point in your life or something.
Books that come to mind for me are: The Secret garden, White Oleander, Speak and The Boddy artist.
maybe this is a cheesy post. I just really enjoy books its such a comfort.
-Douglas Coupland
I agree with that quote so much, and funny thing is most of his books are on my cherished book list. I reread them over and over, I more or less just carry life after god with me all the time. Nothing makes me feel better like douglas coupland.
But I have other cherished books to. I was thinking about them.
Some books just stay with you because they just mark this point in your life or something.
Books that come to mind for me are: The Secret garden, White Oleander, Speak and The Boddy artist.
maybe this is a cheesy post. I just really enjoy books its such a comfort.
Saturday, July 16, 2011
Thinking about dropping out of school....
Thinking about dropping out of school. Thinking about quitting my job and moving back home.
But then again that seems stressful too.
I just dont see the point in doing things that I dont like. I dont like living in the city, I do not like working at a cell phone place so why do I do it?
York is an ugly school.
I'm going to go into huge debt to get a degree in something that I do not even know if I can get a good job in, to pay off my debt.
it all just seems so stressful.
and pointless.
I want to move somewhere else to go to school....
But then again that seems stressful too.
I just dont see the point in doing things that I dont like. I dont like living in the city, I do not like working at a cell phone place so why do I do it?
York is an ugly school.
I'm going to go into huge debt to get a degree in something that I do not even know if I can get a good job in, to pay off my debt.
it all just seems so stressful.
and pointless.
I want to move somewhere else to go to school....
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
blue over grey over grey over grey
she won't come undone,
doesnt let her heart fill up
she'll never be the one
who gets disappointed at the rain
she's the archer, remember?
who's stinging arrows bring a final conclusion
she'd burn the forrest for her family,
though too involved in the details,
it's not a secret she cares and those individuals should think themselves lucky
because her devotion is fierce
heartfelt and powerful,
her plea to the Great Wide
goes unnoticed, and yet
as unreliable as the universe is,
she wakes from an unfinished dream
and starts this day much the same as the last
-audienceno2
doesnt let her heart fill up
she'll never be the one
who gets disappointed at the rain
she's the archer, remember?
who's stinging arrows bring a final conclusion
she'd burn the forrest for her family,
though too involved in the details,
it's not a secret she cares and those individuals should think themselves lucky
because her devotion is fierce
heartfelt and powerful,
her plea to the Great Wide
goes unnoticed, and yet
as unreliable as the universe is,
she wakes from an unfinished dream
and starts this day much the same as the last
-audienceno2
Monday, June 20, 2011
Ender's game series..oh my so good.
"For he loved her, as you can only love someone who is an echo of yourself at your time of deepest sorrow"
-Speaker of the dead
•He is dangerous, he is beautiful, I could drown in his understanding.
-Speaker of the dead
"No human being, when you understand his desires, is worthless. No one's life is nothing. Even the most evil of men and women, if you understand their hearts, had some generous act that redeems them, at least a little, from their sins."
-Speaker of the dead
•I carry the seeds of death with me and plant them wherever I linger long enough to love. My parents died so others could live; now I live, so others must die.
Novinha (Speaker of the dead)
'Sometimes lies are more dependable then the truth"
-Ender Wiggin (Enders game)
"I think it's impossible to really understand somebody, what they want, what they believe, and not love them they way they love themselves."
-Ender wiggin (Enders game)
"We have to go. I'm almost happy here"
-Ender wiggin
-Speaker of the dead
•He is dangerous, he is beautiful, I could drown in his understanding.
-Speaker of the dead
"No human being, when you understand his desires, is worthless. No one's life is nothing. Even the most evil of men and women, if you understand their hearts, had some generous act that redeems them, at least a little, from their sins."
-Speaker of the dead
•I carry the seeds of death with me and plant them wherever I linger long enough to love. My parents died so others could live; now I live, so others must die.
Novinha (Speaker of the dead)
'Sometimes lies are more dependable then the truth"
-Ender Wiggin (Enders game)
"I think it's impossible to really understand somebody, what they want, what they believe, and not love them they way they love themselves."
-Ender wiggin (Enders game)
"We have to go. I'm almost happy here"
-Ender wiggin
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
it is at moments after i have dreamed
it is at moments after i have dreamed
of the rare entertainment of your eyes,
when (being fool to fancy) i have deemed
with your peculiar mouth my heart made wise;
at moments when the glassy darkness holds
the genuine apparition of your smile
(it was through tears always)and silence moulds
such strangeness as was mine a little while;
moments when my once more illustrious arms
are filled with fascination, when my breast
wears the intolerant brightness of your charms:
one pierced moment whiter than the rest
-turning from the tremendous lie of sleep
i watch the roses of the day grow deep.
by e.e. cummings
of the rare entertainment of your eyes,
when (being fool to fancy) i have deemed
with your peculiar mouth my heart made wise;
at moments when the glassy darkness holds
the genuine apparition of your smile
(it was through tears always)and silence moulds
such strangeness as was mine a little while;
moments when my once more illustrious arms
are filled with fascination, when my breast
wears the intolerant brightness of your charms:
one pierced moment whiter than the rest
-turning from the tremendous lie of sleep
i watch the roses of the day grow deep.
by e.e. cummings
Saturday, June 11, 2011
Saturday, June 4, 2011
mmmmm cheesy lentils.
Some lentil beans fried in garlic and onions with a sprinkle of Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese on top mmmmm. SO FLIPPIN' GOOD.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
My Witness is the empty Sky.
I really need to read more Jack Kerouac. I've only ever read On the road and then his poetry, including the Scriptures of golden Eternity.
"Thinking of the stars night after night I begin to realize "The stars are words" and all the innumerable worlds in the Milky Way are words, and so is this world too. And I realize that no matter where I am, whether in a little room full of thought, or in this endless universe of stars and mountains, it's all in my mind."
-The Lonesome traveler.
this more of a Mental note then anything else, to go to BMV and find jack kerouac novels.
-The Town and the City (1950)
-On the Road (1957)
-The Dharma Bums (1958)
-Lonesome Traveler (1960)
-Big Sur (1962)
-Desolation Angels (1965)
-Visions of Cody (1960)
-Some of the Dharma (1997)
I've got a lot of catching up to do this summer. Sometimes it seems like there is too many books I want to read and not enough time in my life to read them all.
"Thinking of the stars night after night I begin to realize "The stars are words" and all the innumerable worlds in the Milky Way are words, and so is this world too. And I realize that no matter where I am, whether in a little room full of thought, or in this endless universe of stars and mountains, it's all in my mind."
-The Lonesome traveler.
this more of a Mental note then anything else, to go to BMV and find jack kerouac novels.
-The Town and the City (1950)
-On the Road (1957)
-The Dharma Bums (1958)
-Lonesome Traveler (1960)
-Big Sur (1962)
-Desolation Angels (1965)
-Visions of Cody (1960)
-Some of the Dharma (1997)
I've got a lot of catching up to do this summer. Sometimes it seems like there is too many books I want to read and not enough time in my life to read them all.
Friday, May 27, 2011
Animal Dreams
"What you lose in blindness is the space around you, the place where you are, and without that you might not exist. You could be nowhere at all." -Barbara Kingsolver
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
New Diet. Day 2.
I'm going Heavy on the veggies and I'm cutting out meat and dairy! Or at least rarely having dairy.
I made my dad make me a giant pot of borsch to help start me off and keep me on track and mmmmmmm.
SO GOOD.
Although I can`t have sour cream on it, or I'm wiling myself not too.
But as my dad says "Borsch without sour cream is like a day without sunshine"
Friday, May 20, 2011
Ukelele and green tea? My kind of friday night.
Especially after a looong day of shopping. is it just me or are shopping malls bad for the soul?
I swear just being in any mall drains all my energy. It's just bad vibes and exhausting all around. Not to mention overhead lighting is dizzy and meant to make you feel bad about yourself.
Cheers to my best friend Jacquelynn.
Not going to lie...feel totally special that I'm your maid of honor. HEARTS <3
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Just rewatched this film. Really thought provoking.
I haven't seen too many around lately. Things have been tough lately for dreamers. They say dreaming is dead, no one does it anymore. It's not dead it's just that it's been forgotten, removed from our language. Nobody teaches it so nobody knows it exists. The dreamer is banished to obscurity. Well, I'm trying to change all that, and I hope you are too. By dreaming, every day. Dreaming with our hands and dreaming with our minds. Our planet is facing the greatest problems it's ever faced, ever. So whatever you do, don't be bored, this is absolutely the most exciting time we could have possibly hoped to be alive. And things are just starting
-The Waking life
I am so in love with Sarah Kay...
I cannot stop listening to her rectite this poem! It really hits home.
"The first love of my life never saw me naked.
There was always a parent coming home in a half hour,
always a little brother in the next room. Always too much body
and not enough time for me to show him.
Instead I gave him my shoulder, my elbow, the bend of my knee.
I lent him my corners, my edges
The parts of me I could afford to offer,
the parts I had long since given up trying to hide.
He never asked for more.
He gave me back his eye lashes, the back of his neck, his palms;
We held each peice we were given like it was a nectarine,
it could bruise if we were not careful.
We collected them like we were trying to build an orchard.
The spaces he never saw, the ones my parents had labelled "private parts"
when I was still small enough to fit all of myself and worries inside a bathtub;
I made up for them by handing over all the private parts of me.
There was no secret I didn't tell him.
There was no moment I didn't share.
We didn't grow up, we grew in like ivy, wrapping. Moulding eachother into
perfect ying and yangs.
We kissed with mouths open; breathing my exhale into his inhale.
We could have survived under water, or outer space
living only off the breath we traded.
We spelled love G.I.V.E
I never wanted to hide my body from him.
If I could have I would've given it all away with the rest of me,
I did not know it was possible to save some things for myself.
Some nights I wake up knowing he is anxious, he is across the world
in another womens arms and the years have spread us like dandelion seeds.
Sanding down the edges of our jigsaw parts that used to only fit eachother.
He drinks from the pitcher on the night stand, checks the digital clock.
It's 5 a.m.
He tosses in sheets and tries to settle. I wait for him to sleep before tucking myself into elbows and knees
reaching for things I have long since given away."
-Sarah kay
"Why not? Because I was tired of men. Hanging in doorways, standing too close, their smell of beer or fifteen-year-old whiskey. Men who didn't come to the emergency room with you, men who left on Christmas Eve. Men who slammed the security gates, who made you love them then changed their minds. Forests of boys, their ragged shrubs full of eyes following you, grabbing your breasts, waving their money, eyes already knocking you down, taking what they felt was theirs. (...) It was a play and I knew how it ended, I didn't want to audition for any of the roles. It was no game, no casual thrill. It was three-bullet Russian roulette."
-Janet Fitch (White Oleander)
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
The Gum Thief
"Just because you were born here and made it through highschool doesn't mean society still can't abort you. Wake up."
I know this is old. But I just love this video and this woman....
Beautiful video. Beautiful poem
Eulogy for you and me
the clock is going to turn back soon the leaves are already changing
we said goodbye for the final time my room needs rearranging
the sidewalks are full of people and leaves we're all turning colours
i want more radiance and less green this season will be my perfect lover
long nights for more dreaming short days to fill real and fast
sweaters for my heart's safe-keeping for my soul's heating through the cold of winter to last
the clock is going to turn back soon i've an eye upon its fixtures
the wall waits patiently for the sun's first rays and the day no one's there to witness
we gave it a go no i guess we can't exist in this
i'm going to celebrate the new year with all the good witches
little chocolate bars are for little kids i want a cauldron and the nourishment that comes with it
we gave it a good go, no i guess we can't fix it
and clocks and hearts and time keeps going but we didn't
the clock tick tocks and i walk alone like i am used to
i wanted to call your bones home but i didn't get to
your shoulder a stop over and i guess i had to
i was lonely from no love and you showed me what it could do
you showed me what i would do when i had some but it is not to be with you
and i've been sad enough and i've been mad some but what good does that do
the leaves are not upset that they're leaving their branches
things change, time passes, death happens
and what happened surely changed me
and the hereafter is full of sadness that is raw and so also sweet
'cause every time a cold heart thaws it send a river of tears to nourish the ground on the way
to the sea
i bow my head to praise and remember this
look up again to greet my day
this is a eulogy for you and me i won't forget
still i'll let go just the same
-Tanya Davis
Eulogy for you and me
the clock is going to turn back soon the leaves are already changing
we said goodbye for the final time my room needs rearranging
the sidewalks are full of people and leaves we're all turning colours
i want more radiance and less green this season will be my perfect lover
long nights for more dreaming short days to fill real and fast
sweaters for my heart's safe-keeping for my soul's heating through the cold of winter to last
the clock is going to turn back soon i've an eye upon its fixtures
the wall waits patiently for the sun's first rays and the day no one's there to witness
we gave it a go no i guess we can't exist in this
i'm going to celebrate the new year with all the good witches
little chocolate bars are for little kids i want a cauldron and the nourishment that comes with it
we gave it a good go, no i guess we can't fix it
and clocks and hearts and time keeps going but we didn't
the clock tick tocks and i walk alone like i am used to
i wanted to call your bones home but i didn't get to
your shoulder a stop over and i guess i had to
i was lonely from no love and you showed me what it could do
you showed me what i would do when i had some but it is not to be with you
and i've been sad enough and i've been mad some but what good does that do
the leaves are not upset that they're leaving their branches
things change, time passes, death happens
and what happened surely changed me
and the hereafter is full of sadness that is raw and so also sweet
'cause every time a cold heart thaws it send a river of tears to nourish the ground on the way
to the sea
i bow my head to praise and remember this
look up again to greet my day
this is a eulogy for you and me i won't forget
still i'll let go just the same
-Tanya Davis
4 Martinis later and I still can't get over the election results....
Maybe some people think it's silly or pointless to stress about politics because apathy is really hip or whatever. However, I cannot get over the fact that conservative won majority. At the very least, I expected a minority goverment.
WHAT KIND OF PEOPLE LIVE IN THIS COUNTRY? How can anyone support a governemtn who cares so little for the common man, elderly, the poor. A government who favours oil companies and foreign investment over better health care and social programs.
A government who models themselves after the U.S. It's like the only argument people have is lowering taxes and recognition. WE NEED CHAHGE.
And the man himself is a self centred, egotistical prick! Personality should count, this is the man that is representing our country and he's doing a shitty job.
I just....
*sigh
I'm just ranting I know. but what else am I supppsed to use this stupid blog for? I don't even know.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)