May182012
Please don’t leave me, things that feel good.
Comfort, why do you run for it? Why can’t you keep doing what you’re supposed to do?
Memories are good, it’s proof you’ve been living. Somehow, I’ll be hopeful. I’ve been shameful that I must bleed.
Is the secret to life being able to enjoy the season of life you’re in? Sometimes the sun will shine and yes I am just doing fine. Sometimes I don’t agree with my thoughts on being free.
Am I really all the things that are outside of me?
I really want to do just what my body wants to.
I’ve been judged, I’ve messed up, but I don’t wallow in it.
Half of me is gone and I cannot find the other half. Does anybody feel like I do?
Breastfeed your heart.
I saw a distant part of me with no water to support. Burning the bridge between. Let it burn.
Never content or satisfied. Tensions of self massacre change.
History is borderline paranoia - yelling at their own rights. Maybe in time I’ll appreciate it.
These papers are stuck in this book until I tear them out. Longing for what has been lost and longing for what hasn’t been obtained. The paint is running dry.
Breastfeed your art.
May82012
I am the villain in this play that I wrote.
It’s title “Love”.
It is every cliche that has ever been said about the word.
It’s larger than life - that’s why people have so much trouble with it.
But I am the villain for I have experienced it.
I have found it once before, and I won’t be sharing it.
I decided to break apart my consciousness in order to hide it there.
But that didn’t work.
So it’s not so much that I won’t share it,
I didn’t choose to be the villain,
It’s because it broke me and now I’ve lost it.
You can’t share what you don’t have.
At the same time Love can’t exist alone.
So look for it
I’m sure it’s not that far away.
May22012
She doesn’t like the way I let my hair grow long. If I wanted to eat a bear I would have to kill it first, otherwise it might kill me. Push forward. The snowy hill is pretty in my mind but bitter cold in real life. I can only mature as much as the season of life I am in. I see mountains ahead. I see the shadow of my vision, but shadows can be deceiving. What I do is easy; I just throw words out there. But YOU, you decipher and make meaning of them like some kind of puzzle. Art is the same way. Here let me make something from my soul that makes no immediate sense to me, but you will find meaning from it. You are the artist. Not I.
April292012
False is the weather of time. If I can’t be happy then who can? Only the harmonium in the wooden drawer will find its solace.
Memories make me feel good. Dreams inspire me. The present doesn’t make sense. Does the present even exist or is it constantly the past? Dishwashing by hand requires 3 steps: Wash, Rinse, Sanitize.
I am always fighting for my own respect. I have high expectations of myself. I need to gain my own respect.
Wash, rinse, sanitize.
Past, present, future.
April232012
Caught in a coma.
Cold in a coma.
Toes in a coma.
Serious threats.
I’d rather be in a coma then out of one.
Enter my sanctuary, lion.
The sun is shinning.
The sky is clear.
What would I want, sky?
Sun shine is cast on the lion with the cold toes comatose.
April222012
Abstract like Bebop
is the metaphor of a forgiving father
Abstract like bebop
are the words that I hear myself speak yet are offbeat from the rhythm of my thoughts
And Abstract like bebop
is the sound of my heartbeat.
Are you starting to see the theme here?
Good.
Because I’m not.
April172012
[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]
We’ll feel sublime.
Am I really all the things that are outside of me?
Would I complete myself without the things I like around?
Does the music that I make play on my awkward face?
Do you appreciate the subtleties of taste, bud?
Panda’s backing vocals:
I don’t get them, not their hearts, their taste.
There’s no need to protect my comforts.
Serious threats, threats, threats.
My friend and me were having laughs
In a living room filled with arts and crafts
He said “I like their clothes and their charming plates,
But what I really want is a simple place,
With no fashion clothes ‘cause you can’t eat those”
Panda’s backing vocals:
I know that body’s built like rock,
but I’ll take you on.
How would you talk to all your kids?
Keep them on your knee.
Only Ma’d pretend to like the clothes you showed to me,
Something in my heart can tell me it’s a weakness,
And maybe you will have more luck playing those tasty games,
But me, I called and called and never heard from her again.
Panda’s backing vocals:
I don’t get them, not their hearts, their taste.
There’s no need to protect my comforts.
Serious threats, threats, threats.
She’s too good to share our favorite things,
I’ll keep an open mind if you let me in.
Don’t let your temper rise, don’t get a bitter face.
Try not to judge me on my kind of taste.
And don’t go changing clothes when they don’t like yours.
Am I really all the things that are outside of me?
(10 plays)
February42012
“An actor must interpret life and in order to do so he must be willing to accept all experiences that life has to offer. In fact he must seek out more of life than life puts at his feet. In the short span of his lifetime an actor must learn all there is to know, experience all there is to experience or approach that state as closely as possible. He must be super human in his efforts to store away in the warehouse of his subconscious everything that he might be called upon to use in this expression of his art. Nothing should be more important to the artist than life and the living of it, not even the ego. To grasp the full significance of life is the actor’s duty: to interpret it his problem; and to express it his dedication. Being an actor is the loneliest thing in the world. You are all alone with your concentration and imagination, and that’s all you have. Being a good actor isn’t easy. Being a man is even harder. I want to be both before I’m done.”
James Dean (via damselinthewest)(via dell-arte)
January212012
[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]
“I don’t know if this is true to you,
but for me
sometimes it gets so bad
that anything else
say like looking at a bird
on an overhead power line
seems as great as a
Beethoven Symphony.
Then you forget it
and you’re back again.”
- Charles Bukowski
(999 plays)
