It was a wednesday our day he said otherwise
So I took off the maxi skirt and replaced it with my long face
I can’t just can’t help it
Slim darling, you came along and into my arms and into my heart and all the real true love I have is yours – and now I’m afraid you won’t understand and that you’ll become impatient and that I’ll lose you – but even if that happened, I wouldn’t stop loving you for you are my last love and all the rest of my life I shall love you and watch you and be ready to help you should you ever need help.
All the nice things I do each day would be so much sweeter and so much gayer if you were with me. I find myself saying a hundred times a day, ‘If Slim could only see that’ or ‘I wish Slim could hear this.’ I want to make a new life with you – I want all the friends I’ve lost to meet you and know you and love you as I do – and live again with you, for the past years have been terribly tough, damn near drove me crazy. You’ll soon be here, Baby, and when you come you’ll bring everything that’s important to me in this world with you.
— Humphrey Bogart’s letter to Lauren Bacall
Many words were said and not a single fuck was given.
My beautiful one
Leonard Cohen on A Thousand Kisses Deep.
My Old Man.
I don’t know, I can’t really do anything much about the other stuff in my life. I’ll just work on being awesome, I guess
Mr. Tambourine Man, he played a song for me. But it’s not the right one, it’s not the right tune. Maybe he’s a fake! And I need to find me the real one. No sense in settling for a bad tune when I could have a better one, right? A much much better one.
Hey, Mr. Tambourine Man
Play a song for me
I could say 2009 was the year of the rockstars for me. Yup, only because I managed to catch 3 bands that year - Nine Inch Nails, PlusMinus, and Archenemy. No easy feat for someone like me who doesn’t really have friends that share the same interest in music. It’s quite pathetic to have to pester a friend to tag along, not to mention to have to pay for their tickets. It’s also sad to have to watch alone.
I haven’t seen live gigs for quite a while now. Perhaps I got tired or have outgrown it and my priorities kind of shifted and there are not much new artists I’m really excited about. I’ve been praying though for a handful to perform here and I will, definitely I will, wear the most gorgeous dress and buy the most expensive front row ticket! And the top three would be Leonard Cohen, Rage Against the Machine, and The Airborne Toxic Event.
Leonard Cohen, oh God, I can’t pray without thinking that seeing him could be one of the closest things I could ever have of a religious experience, I can’t look at his recent photos on my facebook feed without my tears welling up, the man is getting older, and fragile. My ultimate rockstar, I just want to hug him, like I would love to hug my father, like only in my dreams.
I’m in Asia, Leonard Cohen is a long shot, but still I’ll dream on. I have these two photos I took ages ago which I am so in love with, they speak of great memories, like I might someday have of Leonard Cohen.
NIN - Trent Reznor (taken 08/2009)
Plus Minus - James Baluyot (taken 12/2009)
wiping tears on my cheeks using my sleeves. staring at my phone waiting for salvation. contemplating calling and revealing my desperation. soaking my planner with my tears. staring at the time at my computer screen. counting the hours. waiting for 4 in the morning where i might just do it. waiting for 5 am where i wait and do nothing, where i either live or die. hanging by a thread is my heart.
i want that black bird, that bobbing seahorse, that old man’s face in my blood.
long talk little talk wanna share talk wanna understand talk wanna be loved…talk spilling not holding back holding back like the blue moon holding water words a tear in the corner of the eye gonna fall catch catch my catcher in the rye can’t ask o lover where art thou to a lover who never was never has been
Another movie to look forward to. I remember what I wrote ages ago, when I read the book.
Exhilaration…Of finding a cheap copy of The Great Gatsby, stuck in a corner. There it was, like a teardrop staring at me…The longing…the lavish parties…the anticipation…and then the utmost joy! When that one reason finally showed up…Gatsby, in the pool swimming in his blood…it was all worth it, he must have uttered. His last words, as the air escaped him.
What if. What if. All these anxiety-inducing what ifs. Time for a new word lover: So what.
I wonder if Karen O was looking at an actual map when she wrote her love song, measuring the distance of her lover’s bed to her own, looking at the ocean she needs to cross, or imagining the clouds she’ll disarrange with her aeroplane. I wonder if she stared, transfixed, dreaming of her love.