Shooting Stars?

Tasteful vulgarity. Dear Terry, I like what dirty random you see.

+ Calculus Please

"I like too many things and get all confused and hung up running from one falling star to another till I drop. This is the night, what it does to you. I had nothing to offer anybody except my own confusion."

- Kerouac

Gift With Purchase

Manila's got thrift? Oh yes, oh yes to my recent acquisition of a 70's vintage Wilsons House of Suede leather jacket. Hard find, easy fit, blazer style, rusted red, pin tuck detailing, and an unlit phillip morris fag in the right pocket to make it that much more badass. For some reason Ian Curtis came to mind. What is it about an unyielding gaze and first hand smoke that alludes a sense of 'cool'. I'm not a nicotine fiend, but if I had my pick I go with the gg kretek. Smoke and leather, get it on, get it on..

Bring It...

It looks like Polaroid is re-releasing the Color 600 Instant Film, along with a new modernized version of the classic camera. The film supposedly vibes with the old and the new, and will be at arm's length later in the year. Time to stow away the digi, and rekindle a bit of that candid. I can't wait to dust off my old polar, to merely hear that sexy ringing sound of instant development. Just remember, you only get one shot.

Rhymed Resolute

GIVE IT!!!!

Electro Birthday

Taking my 28th to an Electronic level.

<3 this feeling

electric boy.
electric girl.
erratic noise.
in.a.static.world.

Hear this Muse Sick

Can I have the boy version of her please?

(since she's been on my desktop for the last few months, it's about time i shared. did i mention kemp muhl composes, plays piano, guitar, drums, ...amazing)

Cheers

Tos.
Kampai.
Choc-tee.
Jell-mui.
Mabuhay.

Trench Town

Every decade the trench just keeps getting better. As a good daughter to her father, I'll have kids of my own learning to say the word trench before even learning to walk. If you're like me you'll spend hours scoping out every visual inch of this living document, collaborated between Burberry and some talented photographers. Love it up, and crush on a few I can't stop staring at.. let's hear it for these boys. www.artofthetrench.com

Mary Kate? Yes, Mary Kate..

Glamoruos yet Bohemian, signature yet inconspicous, throw away the dress code. From 'The Wackness' to her and her sister's new high end minimalist line 'The Row'. More than just a crush, everything about her I so adore.

check this vid - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xOh9SmISxCk
check this site - http://www.therow.com/

Cats & Dogs

Please help the Philippines victims of Typhoon Ondoy (Ketsana) by making a donation:

*Philippine National Red Cross - http://www.redcross.org.ph
*UNICEF - www.unicef.org/philippines
*World Food Program - https://www.wfp.org/donate/ondoy

The widespread flooding, landslides, and population displacement, have affected over 3 million people. Many families have lost loved ones, their homes, and are in need of immediate food aid. Unfortunately the Philippines government is useless at this point, and not fully able to provide for its people during this devastating event. Even the smallest amount will make a great contribution. Spread the word.

For the World

This time it was her 3rd. Happy Birthday little G.


Woof, I got you the live version:


And a bit of wisdom:

"He who does not travel does not know the value of men."
-moorish proverb

No Guys, Just Dolls

Sharon Tate is all glamour and no destruction, despite her role in one of my classic faves, 'Valley of the Dolls.' This goes way beyond a secret girl crush, I am deeply inspired by her beauty, her style, her light & dark, and her flower child carefree ways. Sad to say I missed the opening of Jeremy Corbell's mixed media art exhibition in Culver City titled, ICON: The Life and Style of Sharon Tate, to commemorate the 40th anniversary of her passing. Peep out some of the work at www.jeremycorbell.com.

The Grey Cardi

Oh, the ceaseless fad of stripes, print, and plaid. But I always stick to my clad philosophy.. 'wear what you feel'. It's Fall again, and I would dig myself a grave to feel the beauty in the decay. Since I lack a spade, I'll keep it simple and sexy, trust me, this could get personal. Go ahead, if you can't follow your own lead, check how they rock the Grey Cardi..

Marc Jacobs
Burberry
Alexander McQueen

Thank you 7th Earl.

www.cardigansweater.com

Black, White, & Hardly Red

I recently finished this great read I picked up at a used book store up on the Australian gold coast. 'The Power and the Glory,' by Graham Greene. No need to count sheep, this is more than just a religious bedtime story, but you may need a dictionary. I wish I had his literary gene, it's magnetically poetic. Love and hate, freedom and oppression, pride and humility, good and evil. Who said opposites attract? Find out for yourself..

So Cliche

"At the end of the day"... I see you have nothing better to say.

Handsome Furs

Everyone needs a bit of heavy petting now and then, but for me the pining for it seems to never end. Even more so now, since the start of my solo expedition 5 months ago, music has been more than just a burner or routine fling. Morning, noon, night, forget the the husband and the ring, but let me introduce one my favorite lovers, the Handsome Furs. Husband and wife rock duo, Dan Boeckner of Wolf Parade, with vocals that resonate the happy and the melancholy, and Alexei Perry who puts magic to the beat. Since March of this year I have been delving into the thought provokingly, political yet not political, imperfectly perfect, introspective lyrics of their newest album, Face Control. Take a deep breath with each track more than just audible, I may as well be cheating on its pleasing predecessor, Plague Park. I feel the envy, to hear and see that this band is not focused financially, but rather more aesthetically. Using funds from shows, just enough to see a new foreign city. Absorbing the world, life, and experience through traveling, and conveying this through their music. Not to mention that the handsome couple wrote all songs together as a team. Whoa. Talk about chemistry..

Good Jeans

I've been fiending for a new pair of jeans. Even here in the Philippines at 34 degrees, where the sun and the humidity are thicker than thieves. I prefer to prance around the city in my undies, but merely wearing shorts may as well be a felony. Well here's the skinny on a brand new pair of good genes, labeled R13. Distressed denim produced in Italy, edgy straight and skinny cuts, but oh so relaxed. So, follow their rocking laid back lead, like old vinyl they only get better with age. I think with a little Dylan in the background, I might just become a groupie.

Row Your Boat..

i want to get out, i need air, i need to breathe.
fuk love i'm going out of my mind here
it's just prayer painting these walls half clean.

see the air lives thick and far from clear
i'm falling, i'm failing, i'm fleeting.
gonna build my house on minimal decree

can you cure a wooden smile
conquer over their rusted, garish hearts
we know that plastic only lasts a short while

give me a guitar give me some song
i can't sleep with dissonant melody
sketch a rhyme to help me write the wrong.

i've seen every cold of grey, and every shade of blue
same sign, your shifting steps like mine
i want color, i want new, i want you.

i've got years on your lovely flooded boots
the water is so knee deep in dirt
i'll carry you up ladders and down chutes.

look now, you see the sun awake i put it to sleep
fade your bones, fade the pretty
killing the need, another version of me

Wear is NZ?

My first few steps in New Zealand resulted in a late breakfast of Auckland boutiques. I consumed c (customs) street, and left nothing on that plate when I delved into a soon to be favorite local store called MADE. A healthy array of hues melding and folding, garments grey and golden. Complementary consumption could never be more well balanced with a heap of worldly designers and some edgy local labels.



March, April, May, and I'm inhaling winter once again. A little sugar in the coffee and some vintage in the post modern, makes the label 'maw' so sweet (http://www.maw.co.nz/). Discard the preconceived fleece, sneakers, and jeans. Less hide and more seek, and the assumed nz battle of fashion verses function starts to rip at the seams.



See through predictable windows, past the dear and the sheep suffocating the streets of the King and the Queen. Adore a bit of push and pull up Lorne, with a quick cold stroll through the narrow High Street. I love a new high fashion buy with a new high coat, but I can't lie I despise the cold. Had to make it last and satisfy it with a short black and a bit of a vintage fix down k (karangahape) road. Auckland's getting warmer and vintage and designer resale is always in season. Less words, more love, and a formulated map.. check it out.



<3 this city. Enjoy.

Let's Abbreviate

LAX. ANZ.. I love this feeling of passing, this mode of transiency, and this eradication of routine. Here once again becomes the inception of introspection and a pseudo breakup. A love her for a lover, I'm about to fall in love with the world. Goodbye LA, SD, MN... here we go again!

Vote Earth!

http://www.earthhour.org/home/

I am joining the world for Earth Hour, and switching off my lights on Saturday, March 28th from 8:30 - 9:30 pm. I guess I try to do what I can to reduce my carbon footprint... at times. Perhaps during this hour I shall bumble around town in my SUV with no headlights. No, no, it's nice to collaborate and make a positive statement with others around the world, yet so crazy to think that this will change nothing in the daily routine of many millions worldwide.

BiBearOpposites

So, I just acquired an old polaroid camera for 10 bucks.. but the film is about to be extinct. It's disheartening to succumb to digitalism, and adhere to the tensioning altruism. Go here for your pseudo sense of polaroidism: www.poladroid.net ..and if this won't suffice, go here to sign a petition to bring it back: www.gopetition.co.uk/petitions/save-polaroid-film.html

Yes Goodbye,

Yes I am fleeting my job.
Yes we are in a recession.
Yes I love this feeling.
Yes an ode to obsession.
Yes.

New Life's Resolution:

LIVE IT!!!!

30 - 3

Nothing could be more clear, I have a feeling this is going to be a very good year...

i heart MK

"You are not the problem. It is the problem maker in your head..."

I had a bit of a recent trip through downtown LA, no swallowing necessary... at the MOCA, where varied works of Martin Kippenberger provided an atlas through his erratic mind. No pens, no cameras please, leave the visual overload to the jack of all mediums. From hotel stationary, to seductive sculpture, to gaudy gingham, to pretentious posters and paint, I marvel at the intense display of his life in his work. There is something so beautiful in realizing one's own inner obscurity and failures, and projecting it to the world. God I love this city...

iwantmore

Electric and Blue.
Alive and Faded.
Me and You.
Gentle and Jagged.
Stay and Escape.
Escape.
Escape.
Escape.

Dabbleism

I wish he thought of me more... hmmm, next?

Fake It

"I love Los Angeles. I love Hollywood. They're beautiful. Everybody's plastic, but I love plastic. I want to be plastic."

AW

Turn Tables

Dry your eyes you suffocated sky, I'm alone and seeing Portland again.
Try on your dreams stuck in cold wet jeans, and a pair of left handed scissors.
See if you can find a way between old and new, then cut me out in paper along that dotted line.

Baby baby, now tell me it's just the times, not the season or their clementine smiles.
You know I can't sleep without that flickering light, a bottle of breathing wine, and our legs intertwined.
Not lovers, not friends, just thread the needle and make a mends with me under your covers.

And then I'll teach you all my slang, and for me you'll prescribe an arduous wait.
Oh, it's more than crystal now to me, it took a patient, blind man's touch for you to see?
The sooner you sleep, the darker you'll feel the sun shift the laments with your heart at my feet.

So, come along this ride, and leave your church mouth behind.
Control the war, silent suicide, as it sits at the tip of your tongue.
It's not a matter of collecting likes, just the bleeding barrier of misunderstanding love.

Maverick?

Yet another interview to induce the cringe reflex. I can't help but feel humored and utterly embarassed for her stammering responses. Frightful, really.

Tag Team

There are boyfriends, and there is your Best Friend. I am so lucky to have 1 out of 2.

Serotoniness

I should have posted this a long time ago... it explains about half of everything:

Men’s Brain
http://lifestyle.msn.com/relationships/articlematch.aspx?cp-documentid=8860750>1=32023

Women’s Brain
http://lifestyle.msn.com/relationships/articlematch.aspx?cp-documentid=8860752>1=32023

Whore Moans...

A mere pull of the plug, and a bit of control. Come sunday, everything will be at ease with that daily dose of the BC. Like a mother, take it and swallow. You tell me we go around in circles, but I beg to differ with cycles.

This is normal, you know, when it rips at the seams and the laughter bites at your greed. An honor to your plead, a little show and tell of this heart made of glass. Here is a brick, can you keep a secret? Shhh, we're just friends. Devise cruelty into a sonnet, I'll shed some light on your darkened heart. So far from a lover.

"He's just another quickie" she says, as her words surpass that of gold. Hardly worth the change, I put him at silver. It only took a little while for this to cycle through to agitate. It takes some time, but soon it will rinse the slate, rinse to clean, rinse too late.

You taste better with fine wine, and what was once full is now bitter and empty. Let's levy the lie, worth the wait, worth a soul mate? No, this is my war, and your shoulder has not yet seen winter. Listen to the kids, now hang it up to dry...

Grrrr

I don't care who you are or what you have... but if you have a penis, you suck.

So, suck this:
#1 you quoted Dylan, so now eff ur rules
#2 i hate ferris wheels, u r a ferris wheel
#3 29? how about make up ur mind
#4 'see, for me', ur gay and live in hollywood

Gonna wipe this slate clean.

Time to...

Goya

One of my favorites in a series of etchings called "Disasters of War." It's amazing how much we've grown in the last 200 years, really.

I Lost...

God today.

From now on, it's only Plan A.

Swear to...

Ugly

Now all the pretty has gone...
There is only pleasure in paint,
Only solace in self disdain.

No more pennies to wish on,
And all prayers displaced by rainbows.
Lord, paint me up all pretty like.

I wanna dance like them.
Bane and broken, one last silver token.
I'm gonna hammer out the pain with these worn boots.

Far from audible range,
I'll sing away the anguish and the fear.
At least you and your haughty smile have long disappeared.

How much for a lover?
Sit on your thrones with frivolous suits.
Marvel at yearn for an honest face hirsute.

Wait for morning, wait for winter.
Skinny like bones, cover it with snow.
When everything was once ugly.

Soon it will be pretty again...

Ouch

I miss you.

Damn.

December...

<3

Better Left...

SITUATIONS

Pick a number between 1 and 10 it begins with a simple counting down of days...
I guess it's been about a year since you went there and i came here and i often wish we could've stayed.
It's hard to talk about sometimes so i put these rhymes together sometimes it makes me feel better sometimes it just makes me feel much worse...
But i'm giving it my best i've invested so much more than i expected when i started as i left i sang this verse.
He said baby you feel like home and i don't wanna be alone and i hate that i have to go but i'm going anyway...
Cause there's just some things you have to do some situations to go thru and i still love you but i'm going anyway.
Sometimes i think we were made to get frayed and worn out rough around the edges with our hearts teetering on ledges not too strong...
And sometimes i think we were sent with intent to meet and break each other's hearts get pulled apart and fill the world up with our songs.

MT

No Hit Wonder

Lie, cheat, obsolete.
Sell your house, your car, your soul.
They were never yours, never yours.

Baby, she's your paper doll.
Bendable, foldable, poseable.
Ring around the weeds, she's too fat to feel.

Minimal decree, you just creep as you please.
Never regret your secrets kept.
Hardly appraised near a done deal.

Shake it off sunshine, you're a common cold.
I'll cure you with coffee and vitamin c.
Drink up, drink up, you were easy elementary.

Did u know I like you better in dress shoes?
Buzz, buzz, buzz like a bar sign in Berlin.
Beat it worse than ur 5 song replay.

You, you, you the common fad, turns to neon, turns to plaid.
Is that really even your name?
So yesterday... I'll revert and label you Saturday.

Pogonology

My developed affinity:

In the course of history, men with facial hair have been ascribed various attributes such as wisdom, sexual virility, or high status; and, conversely, filthiness, crudeness, or an eccentric disposition. In many cultures beards are associated with nature and outdoorsmen...

Check, Mate

I wish...
I knew your next move.

Better yet.
Ready, set...

I am the player.
You are the knight.
I put u in your place.
On squares, black, white.

Check 1, Check 1, Check 1

Someone please get me out of this mere mode of repetition... no more coloring by numbers. 2, 3, I'm on a mission.

Just Around the Corner...

You're a modern man, with modern words, and a modern heart.

You sharpen pencils with your paint, now show me how to skip in place.

Tattered and bruised, I'm falling over our repetition.

1 + 1 = 2, our counterpart black and blues.

Never lead, never follow. I'll hug your mother, and double your stride.

Are you happy now that you're disappointed?

One fell swoop. Fix your feathers dear, and derive penicillin from soup.

I'll peel through your infinite layers and cool your casual trousers.

Our copper hearts and eyes like dimes, flip the world on its side to find the prize.

"Is this how we consume the day?"

Marvel at a second chance at life, better than 9 lives or 100 trophy wives.

Just intertwine your fingers in mine.

Ready, set...

Movement

www.visualpetition.com

Hearts

It's strange really, how much I feel how they feel. More contagious and common than a cold. Leave home, the remedy is unknown. The thread count of her jeans at dawn, a sleepless light, missing verses abandoned songs. Young to old, lovers to lust, bottles to empty, here to gone. Kick buckets, endorse here. No roses, just weeds. Drown your eyes, it's Monday again.

All aboard, I'm anchored by fear...

Coffee & Red Bull

"Sometimes I wish the world wasn't round, I'm tired of running."

And then the nod, turns to a stare, melts the truth with another dare. It's fools gold. Just like your handshake, barely embraced, tastes a dull shade of grey. It glistened at first thought, unravels and freys the same way. You turn pages to the end, race the day only to start again. But now 2 steps become 12, flip the cup to be filled again. Not water, not wine. It cuts, but I'm twisting into the prettiest vine. You'll see, we'll all see.

Faith Full of It

I want to put this burden to bed.
Tuck it in tight to watch it sleep,
and kill it quietly before dawn.
But I hate to care, to watch them weep.
Dear friend, foe, lover is gone.

Let it go, Let it go.
Hurry, hurry, hurry.
Let me go, let me go.
Oh God please, ease their worry.

The sun is beaming a new day.
With sounds of sweeping streets,
the dust resonates far beneath.
But there's faith here, in the wind.
It taunts, it chatters to redundance.
Leading, leaving, provoking my perspective.

Let it blow, Let it blow.
Hurry, hurry, hurry.
Let me know, let me know.
Oh God please, ease my worry.

So, Now What?

"Tip the world over on its side and everything loose will land in Los Angeles."

Frank Lloyd Wright

29? I lied...

Cold like bones.
Kills the weather inside.

It pierces like wet denim.
In deep pockets our hands confide.

A dollar for your dollar.
Hasty heads collide.

There's green beneath our feet.
Eff the other side...

Salt is Sweet...

I fail to feel, but I see and I speak. A humble how are you, projected selflessly. So many steady strangers, more than just home. This one is yours... take it and go! Positive tension lingers between you and me. Love is action not feeling, but colliding chemistry? The sun is awake now, with the amicable stares. Never ill-mannered like your disheveled hair. The cold air bites, it misses our hearts. Blessed with this ocean, for us God imparts.

Life for Free...

It is all so clear to me now.
Never before have I felt this complacent.
People, places, things, like rainbows lead to let down.
But this is more than an embrace, more than just a moment.
Not friends, not lovers could ever amount.
For once poured out, my heart well spent!

Just Another Day

I turned 26 yesterday and I bought myself an E string... now everything will be in tune, I'm trusting.

Passing Time

Different place, different time, but this feeling is the same. The cold radiates beyond the surface, and it's pinching deep. My heart escapes beats with your reminiscing tears, it's that time of year. It's a common sign and your shoe is heavy on staying. You were never one to stop, and here the view is lacking a scene. The light is buzzing green, take all the time you need. Oh brother, it's getting late. I want to push past the crossroads, swallow, and consume your grief. Now dusk imparts the horizon as the sun abandons the scene. Night defeats. Let it go. She's gone, at peace.

Room for Shapes

One can never have too many sides... I am so grateful for every one of my abstract friends. I have never been one to saturate my walls with Renaissance art anyway... perfection loses its appeal, and ohhhh how I abhor obtuseness.

Song for the Best

Dear tmk,

Thank you for your beautiful song. Here is a quickie I wrote in return because I love you so much:

http://www.zshare.net/audio/55410155752ce9/

I apologize for my lack of savvy with g-band and distorted sound, but it's from the heart.

Love Always,
besty

Loose Change is Good

My finger I can't quite place. It wavers and wanders over the repeats of my heart and the replays in my head. This feeling so disconcerting, I can only point at my own shortcomings. I feel the disappointment chilling my bones, as my expectations of others perpetually hit the ground. I'm not accustomed to normalcy, but this is becoming a common attribute. I'm realizing their corners and their curves, and realigning my own crooked turns. They advise a cliche, 'you live and you learn.' I trust their loose end wise words, as they do come with age. Here I want to whisper a new song under my breath, and sing it elsewhere to the world. This song around I will be more prudent, retract my index finger, and simply learn to live.

I Don't Eat Meat

I linger and listen to that 99th tear to glisten...
I'm letting go of another expected love song.
Skipping over those tracks and everything that lacks...
a sweet embrace and second glances prolonged.

But here I am, this is me, only me...
my head, my heart, my hands, my feet.
Spill the wine and the pills, let the numbness evade...
walk away, swallow deep, feel that pain so willingly.

They lie through their pretty, tearing teeth, it's not me, it's You...
it was You all along for this alleged self affliction.
I'm turning over decimated leaves, wistful faith renewed...
heart ready, walk steady with You, my new found addiction.

Hunting Season

They say you don't know until you know...
I'm lacking brilliance to flip that switch,
to make that bulb glow.

It's all fair game, but I prefer the sea...
Oh fate expectedly late,
next year I'll fly that kite with a key.

Life is Shorter

They're all passing now. My heart aches today. Not the impaling kind, but the hurt that is incessantly reminding the rest of my body that something is out of tune. He sings out of key, but I love it. I'm uneased when I think about how there is always that minor gliche that keeps that red light from glowing. I want him... to think of me too. I hate distance, but I like driving. Drive, drive, drive this to the ground and give me something perfect, something for real this time. He gets me without words, it's magnetic. It's pulling hard, but it's messy in the middle. With my list he's first, on his list I'm not. So much riff raff, so little time. It's one big chain reaction, really. I'm on their top, their on my bottom, he's on my top, I'm on his bottom. I'm sick, it's urgent. He must know that I like it on top, but maybe I should just tell him... no. Something beautiful must be waiting in that room. The one with an ocean breeze, windows for walls, and all the toys, but no games... just toys.

Keeping Word

Away...

here to there.

mindless...

unaware.

words...

adhered?

unheard...

I feared.

Backward.

You float.

Forward.

Our boat.

Hands tight.

Walk steady.

hearts right.

for me, for you... for me.

I Remember...

When today's sorrow persisted until tomorrow. As the confines of the unkempt room, secured thoughts of reclusion past noon. Then the comfort of shrewd fear never grazed so near. Brushing chance mistaken fate, untimely, yet punctually late. Just one more dire dose, always second to last, perpetually indisposed. But then the sky and the haze, mercifully parted ways. Our coincidence, your lovesick stare, the stale brew ridden dare. The poetry you sing, eunique flings, the bullshit rings, and our perfected kinks. This harmony like youth embraced, slowly fades. I'm gone the next day...

Plenty of Room...

10 parts them, one part me,
the deranged melding so lovely.

Behold the combination to unlock,
that equivocal heart's thought.

I do, but choke on your recycled verbs,
with a notched belt that prefers the world.

I'll melody your strum,
but double knot what you've undone.

still waiting...

Rise Up

The walls have grown heavy, and I'm washing them white as I breathe deep. It'll only take a while to retract the window from the sill. It's me, but it's you I see. You can't hurry love, and I can't suffocate pain, so we'll drive the moment somewhere in between. We're veering off the night beaten path, and skipping over broken glass. Scatter our dejected pieces, and put us back together at dawn...

Have a Heart...

Made out of clay.
There must be a better way...


"With a sunrise and a sunset there’s a change of heart or address. Is there nothing that remains? For a sunrise or a sunset. You’re manic or you’re depressed. Will you ever feel ok?"

--b.e.

L for Hallelujah

Today I looked up and painted the sky grey...
but I gotta fix that, I better fix that.

It's normal u know... it just cycles through without reason and cuts deep.
It pricks the mind, and almost impales the soul.

They're blind to the severity, but I'll entertain the remedy...
cold sheets and inexistence.

Save me, save yourself.

There's a mode of reason around every sharp corner, and a selfless verse for every acute angle.

I tilt my head up at the sky with my heart, my head, my soul... hallelujah.

Hallelujah...

Let's Equate

You happy = me happy.

I'll remedy the emotion with a little light and some heavy devotion, it's time to spark the change...

I Chews You

Minutes, days, months...
smiling with your fake veneers.
I precipitate and wait...
melt away your facade with my tears.

But it's not those pretty things...
your teeth they will rot.
It takes a little time to flick the change...
with this agitated love you once forgot.

Now my wardrobe's clean...
your soul inside out.
Elate a verse at every intersection...
and sing to a new crowd.

Something is Being Delivered...

It's me.

Come on Life, Go...

Something needs to be done, find the list.

Someone is always away, clench the wrist .

Detach the loathe from the self.

Separate the love from contempt and wealth.

Get up, get up, move your feet, move your feet.

Dang it heart, just beat, Beat, BEAT!

Lost & Found...

Nothing fits, but the straightjacket.
I scorn missing things.

Mind eluded.
The old conductor sings.

Those shoes untied.
Can't catch that train.

I got prudence in my pocket.
Some discontent in the slow lane.

A new penny for the loafer.
Another dime for a friend.

Tut tut, I'll take the old sneakers.
A torn heart, a needle, and some thread.

Ciao...

It's normal as usual, these continuous glances. Never last, never certain, never cumbersome, never too near. I'm counting days to seconds, choking the horizon at sunset. But the dark has surmounted light, and our coincidence has lost its bright. Don't worry love. I've got a book for the match, and a flicker for this flame. This breeze unremitting, shut the swinging door on farewells. The tumblers are empty, and the coasters are drained. Come fill my glass, feed my soul, thirty not thirtytwo. We'll see the world move mountains, and feel the sea with our dreams.

Make the Shift and Split

It's one of those things where I clap and you dance.
Now the wind has averted, and you leave when I stand.
Never perfected, but always perfect...
Just swallow the regret.

Grasp.

Let go.

Now I see, now I see...

The dust never leaves, but my vices are clean.
The kind of shit that tastes bitter, but nourishes the intrigue.
You contrive show and tell...
Manifest a gratifying hell.

Spit.

Forget.

Now I breathe, I breathe.

Use Your Head?

This morning a bird randomly took flight from my head. It's been awhile since I last had such mixed thoughts. Disgust from piercing legs invading my mind. Reverence in the idea of my head being in a mode of stability for once. Envy of acting upon the desire for a geographically inspired perspective. Blissful for contriving ideas of heads to provide for my perpetual evasion from normalcy... damn lucky birds.

Aidyn?

Oh yes... this is my nephew. I've only seen him twice, but love him and miss him dearly. I plea to eradicate tradeoffs completely... no, no, I'll be a little less harsh: Death to tradeoffs.

Sew What?!...

if I've only slept for 20 minutes in the last 3 days of finals. Post delirium has overthrown my mind into a lucid dream. My machine has legs as my hands move robotically... "don't let it run away wit chu," says Ms. Fisher to my temporal lobe. My robot is becoming immaculately punctual as the needle pierces repeatedly through opulent cloth. The sky escapes darkness as I plead of time to be more munificent. Is it that time is never on my side? No. Never say never. I have no sides.

Dispirited Wit...

I really have nothing of importance to say, or even anything remotely witty. Maybe I'm too dejected or incapacitate to do so, and it's best I leave it to someone else...

Optimism is the madness of insisting that all is well when we are miserable.

-Voltaire

Moving On...

I like it.

This seems all too familiar.

I don't like it.

Some silence please.

Worn, Unworn...

So my heart and mind decided to try on some clothes the other day. I love it vintage, but hate it used. Usually the feeling is used, but that day it surpassed the fit of a glove. I was wandering the streets of downtown LA near the MOCA, and happened upon an exhibit called Skin + Bones. An amazing set up that presented certain techniques and strategies in which fashion paralleled architecture. I have to admit that the exhibit did lack in expressing key points, but included many interesting conceptual works from Gehry, Chalayan, Miyake, McQueen, Yamamoto, and many respected others. For once I felt some sort of reassurance that my life was, and is on the right track. There are so many avenues in life, and perhaps my introspection led me to take a few more turns up and down the alleys. In the inception I was on a mission to soul search, but I think I was wrong all along. I didn't need to find myself, but rather realize myself. Now I think I have realized more than just something. Architecture my muse, Apparel my art. I love the less beaten path.