Friday, July 31, 2009

does this actually exist?

Childhood living is easy to do
The things you wanted I bought them for you
Graceless lady, you know who I am
You know I can't let you slide through my hands

Wild horses couldn't drag me away
Wild, wild horses, couldn't drag me away

I watched you suffer a dull aching pain
Now you've decided to show me the same
But no sweet, vain exits or offstage lines
Could make me feel bitter or treat you unkind

Wild horses couldn't drag me away
Wild, wild horses, couldn't drag me away

I know I dreamed you a sin and a lie
I have my freedom, but I don't have much time
Faith has been broken, tears must be cried
Let's do some living after love dies
Wild horses couldn't drag me away
Wild, wild horses, we'll ride them some day

Wild horses couldn't drag me away
Wild, wild horses, we'll ride them some day

Thursday, July 30, 2009

yes bruv.


so on saturday, i get to see him in real life.

brouhaha with mister milne.

Pondering pondering pondering. I’m like Winnie-the-pooh in his thoughtful spot thinking and humming to himself. Think think think. Alas, there’s no piglet to keep me company. That makes me a little blue. What brings on the reds, is the thought that maybe this is how it will always be. There are the loveliest of people passing by. They stop to say hello and tell me about their day… coming and going. Always seasonal. And I really wish that someone would stay. I’d like some stability in this adventurous sea.

It’s so pretty out. In this rowboat, swaying after the rain. The sky has become brilliant blue, and there’s that all encompassing warm as the sun gets a little less shy around the gray. Things seem incredibly hopeful. There’s all this good news in the newspaper! Promising predictions. Not too much excitement, so as not to make a fool of oneself and jump the gun, but enough to smile. Yet there’s no one to share the news with.
“We are deeply relational creatures” I hear a man’s voice quote it in a posh English accent. Like the Disney narrative voice for A. A. Milne (Does it make it more true, if you say it in a posh English accent? Assuredly not. In fact, lots of people would take that as the flag that you’re lying. But, we Americans love that crap! I think it’s a bit ridiculous. But, whatever.) Back to the point. We are, aren’t we? I crave relationships. I love my friends. I love meeting new people and when they become friends. I love when friends become like family. I like boys too. Still waiting on my McCartney…but, that is another story entirely. I hate the geographical restrictions that impede upon most of my relationships. Now, distance doesn’t bother me quite so much. It’s not insurmountable. In fact, it can be a lot of fun. But when distance brings with it bureaucracy… so many beautiful relationships are strangled by the red tape. I’m tired of relational ‘weddings’ so to speak…where the celebration is grand and festive. And not too much later, it’s only to be followed up by an annulment or a funeral.

“And so… relational creatures we are,” says the narrator. We’ll call him Mister Milne for fun. I’m not alone in this. But, why do I feel so alone in this? I’m not searching for some sort of validation or approval, exactly. I mean, I like affirmation. I’m that kind of girl. That’s my native tongue. But I tend to have this mathematical way of thinking, that if you’re lacking something, there’s a reason. If you’re not getting hugs, you’re probably a porcupine. Or, if people never come over to your house, maybe you’re a mean witch! (Or a warewolf! Because then you wouldn’t know you’re a werewolf cos you change at full moons, but forget allll about it in the daytime.) See what I’m saying? Which makes me analyze myself to no end. Which is why I probably call you and say… are you SURE I’m not a porcupine?? Are you sure I’m not a wicked witch? I just cackled and there are monkeys following me. Seriously. Last night was a full moon. Did I eat her/his family for a midnight snack? Because s/he’s definitely not talking to me.
“Brou-ha-ha! (which here is the phonetical sound of laughter at the encompassing brouhaha) Silly old bear.” True. I am a silly little bear. But I’m just saying… I’m just confused as to why the rules of karma do not apply. it makes sense that they should. What goes around – comes around. Treat others as you wish to be treated. Though, it doesn’t actually say that they’ll treat you the same way. Smile at someone…they probably won’t smile back. Call a friend! But they may not call back. Do not ignore someone you care about… They will probably ignore you. Forgive. Even when you aren’t forgiven. Be honest. When you’re lied to.

And so now, Mr. Milne, that brings us to love, doesn’t it. “Ah, yes, young Jackson, The Central nervous system of life.” So I choose to love people and they may not love back. In fact, often they won’t…at least in the way you expect. So where’s the line between just becoming a doormat who constantly says “no worries! I understand! It’s all good.” And saying otherwise and walking away or limiting the accessibility of the people around you. COM.PLI.CATED. slightly. Stiff order. Needs a stiff drink. Ok, so I choose grace. I don’t wanna be a porcupine or a witch or a werewolf, or even a hardened young woman.All of this to say, I don’t want to be always lonely. And I’m afraid I always will feel this way. But maybe that’s just fear talking and it’s just a season. And I need to push through and wait. (proooobly so) And I’m never really alone. Ever. But this accompanying patience that is required of me… this courage and strength and hope cocktail… well, it’s not going down any easier than a shot of moonshine from the mid-1800s.

“Promise me you’ll always remember… You’re braver than you believe, and stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think.”

I shall certainly try, Mister Milne. I shall try.

p.s. - to those who are near to me, though distance keeps us apart...i freakin love you.

Wednesday, July 29, 2009

i'm just full of surprises.


i board in 20 days.
and yes, there may be more tricks up my sleeves.

Monday, July 27, 2009

i'm not calling you a liar. just don't lie to me.

random streams of consciousness:

  • i got some really good news today which made me get teary with happy tears. which is SUPER rare. however, it's still too premature to shout it out.
  • i wonder why i have to take the lead. there's nothing to lead, or so you said. but, then you come around killing me softly. i mean...what?
  • it's strange. i don't even know what i want or what i'm thinking. or if i'm even thinking at all? mainly i'm just trying to keep moving. to keep focused. it's like when you're running or working out or something, and you've hit your threshold of pain, and then suddenly everything goes numb. and you realise, if you stop right now, you won't get back up. but, if you just keep moving, you'll get someplace... or something.
  • why are you silent and distant? it hurts. i keep thinking you must hate me. i'm not sure why. i'm good at that sort of thing. making people run from me. then, i keep talking myself out of this nonsense. but let's be honest. i don't like it. and i wonder if it isn't nonsense at all.
  • don't ever ponder the genius of the beatles...esp. sir mccartney. you will go mad. i am. most definitely. i am also ready to sink into an abyss of grief that i will miss him this saturday.
  • everyday a dj saves my life.
  • i like my blackberry. he needs a name... a classy grand sort of name. the ipod is winston iii. perhaps kensington? hmmm.
  • i love/hate how certain songs make you feel closer to a person.
  • is it time to book flights yet?
  • i am addicted to roald dahl's short stories.
  • "will we always be just like little kids going group to group. asking who loves me? dunno who loves me. it's pathetic. it's impossible. like girls in stilettos trying to run."
  • if you've seen 'the edge of love' i completely and utterly relate to sienna miller's character in this season of my life.
  • why did you tell me to forget him?
  • i wish you were here to sit and laugh with. and dance around.
  • i wish you were here to do life with. i miss sitting in our living room and painting and singing along to coldplay and pondering life's mysteries, and wondering aloud at my ridiculous luck with the opposite gender, drinking herbal tea, having face masks, burning candles, making ridiculous videos, and laughing until everything hurts.
  • i like days when my whole family gets together and we have a good time.
  • carl's icecream is still miraculous.
  • i am shakin in my boots about recording tomorrow.
  • i like that jamie t sampled "hungarian dance" on his track 'dance of the young professionals"
  • i miss all of you who hold pieces of my heart in londontown. i'm comin soon!!!


Friday, July 24, 2009

because...

i would rather be next to that northern boy.

Sunday, July 19, 2009

i know you're bleeding, baby.

i am tired of caring.
may i be excused from the table of life?
oh, that it were that easy.
or maybe it just is.

good day, friends.

Saturday, July 18, 2009

come awake.

at this precise moment, i can be found in the living room of my family's house... sitting in the coolness of a/con... with bandita. and there's something so calming about it. it isn't home. but it's where they live. and i can breathe easy and think for a second. i'm also lusting after this macbook. but, that's another story entirely.

i like that it's silent.
i like that i've left my phone in the car, though i'm hoping it doesn't start melting down to toxic plastic vs. metal compound in this summertime glory. i want nothing more than to be in a secluded place with my favourite girlfriends, laying next to a pool in a classy little two piece. i know. who is this girl talking right now? i don't even care. because, really?
i don't like how much of my 26 years... that have been wasted because of insecurity. i'm a cripple. and it's a pitiful sight. i don't like how hard i feel i must work for the attention and affection of others. i hate the feeling of being unloved. even though i am loved and cared about very much, indeed.

i woke up this morning to the telephone ringing. not mine. my grandma's landline. there's a man i'm quite fond of who has had cancer. it spread, and about a week ago, we heard he'd now been told he probably had about 6 months to live. but the phone call this morning, brought word that he'd passed away. he was essentially a musical genius. he has the sweetest family... the loveliest wife... and two of the most gorgeous teenage girls i've ever seen in my life. no exaggeration. and i tried my best not to cry. but i ache for his family and friends. and i know how it feels. and gosh, i hate when things like this happen.

i think, apart from all of these things regarding his family and talent and his booming laughter and rodney dangerfield voice... i was fond of the fact that he really saw me. he was one of those rare people who seemed to completely 'get' everything i'm about, without my having to say very much. as a musician, he saw the places i am uncomfortable, and encouraged me to explore there. to create there. to run there. from his family of beautiful brazilian girls, he would always remind me that i was a beautiful little sister to him... his general enthusiasm, genuine encouragement were always incredible. and his resilient hope in the midst of dark times of opposition challenged me.

i'm going to miss him. a lot.

i am walking through a season of loneliness that refuses to end.
i am trying to make the best of it. to learn lessons.
i am trying not to shut down, and close my heart off.
i'm trying to love everyone better.
but every attempt leads to failure and varying degrees of heartache.

i am searching the sky for the tiniest of rainbows.
but my angst-ridden body shakes. and my hand is gripping the brush. stirring the can of black paint.
and i'm so tempted to paint it black and let my blood run cold.

but my eyes keep searching. pupils clinging to the last bit of light before giving in to dilation.
...surely goodness will follow me.

Friday, July 17, 2009

catch 22.

i can't stop crying when i listen to the beatles or paul mccartney or george harrison.
but then.
i can't stop listening to the beatles or paul mccartney or george harrison.

this is fun.
real fun.

Monday, July 13, 2009

and they say romance is dead...

this may or may not surprise you.
i am slightly obsessed with this though...
The Dead Weather - Treat Me Like Your Mother

Friday, July 10, 2009

certainly, i'm indebted babe...

you show them all
a real good time
always laughing with your
tired brown eyes
and you move so fast
but it feels too slow
when bad news comes
you say it's how it goes

but easy, honey
you're one of the good ones
even when it comes undone
easy, honey
all will be well here
all is gonna come clear
just you hold on

you hate it when
they're always late
you hate it when
you have to wait
and you have so much
you never show
there are things that
they will never know

but easy, honey
you're one of the good ones
even when it comes undone
easy, honey
all will be well here
all is gonna come clear
just you hold on

i wanna take you
somewhere else
to breathe
to feel a little more like yourself
and watch your heavy eyes
just sleep
a day with no place
you have to be

but easy, honey
you're one of the good ones
even when it comes undone
easy, honey
all will be well here
all is gonna come clear
just you hold on

Thursday, July 9, 2009

9 juillet, 2009.

painted the walls red with angry fists
coloured the air in with violence taken from these wrists
torrents of molecules ran from me
i raged against the dividing seas
black bird flew away with the key
hole in my chest, once full, now empty
compromised.
act surprised by the turning events
teary-eyed asking where all the love went
your beloved fades with the receding tides
bones show through
where only scorn abides
you've dressed her up, paraded her
the new girl about town
romanticism ran away
you took her and held her down
she wraps herself in lies and pretty garmets of rejection
when you're gone she beats herself
into the shape of some perfection
have you any bells of recollection?
she'd pay to pass just one inspection
leave her there, it's cold out now
always overcomes somehow
and wipes the sweat from tired brows
and takes more than one should allow
so tonight while fire grows in the sky
from bridges burning out of sight
she cries to sleep and wakes to cry
with sorrow in her lullabyes
this is the only place you'll hear such things
your beloved is fading out of me.

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

8 Juillet 2009.

I am on a writing rampage apparently. The following posts contain poems, songs-in-progress, and dreams.
Herein lies my heart...

I mean to
That is, to say,
I fully intend to
haunt you
with songs to trace your limbs in sunlight
After soaking up the dark
Bathtub filled with moonlight
Showered in the stars
Collected on the pages
My thoughts in smudgy ink
Lay beneath the branches
Help you just to think
All the embers glowing
Last night’s fires in the sand
Counting slow in whispers
Strings are singing in your hands
And here, against the lonely lonely
tremors of the night
we were swallowed up
by tender compositions of the light
We’ve told all of the secrets
Confessed all of our sins
In silence,
Absolution starts to blossom in our skin
Breathe deep
With eyes now closing
Sleep
Come dream with me again
I took a cab
Right to your street
I saw the place where we would meet
I paid the fare
And made my way
Outside your house
Outside your gate
You said, “alright”
I said, “hello”
I thought of places we could go
You pulled me close
Forgot it all
Here comes the kiss
Here comes the fall

Don’t be surprised if I just stop moving
Stand at the side
Stand on the same side
Don’t be surprised if I just go over
Over the side
Over the same side

Oh honey wait
Wait for me
I didn’t mean
To ruin everything
I don’t know when
I learned to run
But it’s you I want
Outside your house
Outside your door
I’ll think of places we could go
Just pull me close
Forget it all
And let your the kiss
Bring on the fall

Don’t be surprised if I just stop moving
Stand at the side
Stand on the same side
Don’t be surprised if I just go over
Over the side
Over the same side
To my favourite
Man behind the lens
Please forgive me
I want to let you in
A thousand voices
Tell me you’d be true
But I’m so scared
You’ll leave me black and blue

Walk the lines
So slowly
It’s not defined
Move slowly
Ask me why
I’m shaking
All I touch is breaking

It’s just the risk I take
It’s just the choice I make
Oh make me bend
Don’t break
Crushed out under
Phenomenal weight
Of all this…
Of all this…

To my favourite
Man behind the lens
The light refracts
And I’m on fire again
Can you see the way I look at you?
Fumbling, scared that you might leave soon

Walk the lines
So slowly
It’s not defined
Move slowly
Ask me why
I’m shaking
All I touch is breaking

It’s just the risk I take
It’s just the choice I make
Oh make me bend
Don’t break
Crushed out under
Phenomenal weight
Of all this…
Of all this…
In the middle of the night
It just exploded like the 4th of July
Lit up the sky
Little heart just running away with fire
At 12 o’clock
On the dot
I woke from my heavy sleep
To watch the sparks go flying
From my chest down to my feet

Oh oh c’mon baby
And figure it out
Take the time you need
But oh oh c’mon baby
Hold on tight
Or let me leave
Oh oh c’mon honey
The door is wide open
And I could start running
Oh oh c’mon baby
It just can’t stay this way

Oh little boy
I’m a toy
Sitting there on the shelf
Watch anger rise up in his eyes
If I’m touched by someone else
Have your cake, eat it all
And back me up to the wall
You’re the one I want
But I am not
I am not yours at all

once upon a dream...

I just remember looking at you… the panicked expression running rampant on your face. I was holding your hand after we dropped down to kiss the bright green grass. It was like some kind of magic movie set. Everything around us was full of bright brilliant colour and absolutely beautiful. Flooded with the most immaculate sunlight I’ve ever seen. A forest surrounded the grassy field where we lay peering up at two lone trees a little way off in the center of it all.
The men stood. I knew I didn’t like them. They were the sort of men who had pocket watches hanging from their waistcoats. The kind who had tailors whose crafty hands still couldn’t mask the bulge of their Jolly St. Nicholas bellies. Yet, there was nothing jolly about them. Rather sinister. Something cruel in their mouths turned upward. They’d led us to this place, and I’m still not sure why we followed. They had something to do with all of this. Not the beauty of it all, but the bombs that were dropping all around. The bombs, which, I might add, were absolutely invisible. Sonic blasts shook the earth, and the leaves from the trees seemed to fall at each blast. But, they were never bare. Each time we looked again, they were full of summer-time leaves. Everything blew around for a moment following the dreadful sound of impact, but nothing was broken or even moved.

Your screams joined with the others with us. Those screams that come from that feeling that all is lost and that we might actually die. I knew better, somehow. Everything sounded horrible, as though the last battle of Armageddon was upon us. Yet my confidence in the fact that we were absolutely safe remained, just as everything around remained untouched and un-phased by this auditory onslaught. I wasn’t afraid. I tried to explain and make you understand. Instead I just squeezed your trembling hand.
All was bright and beautiful.
All was well and would be.
And then it all became quite still…
And then the men disappeared…
And then you understood.

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

seems so far...

i want to be able to make music/art and live off of it. (and have enough to allow my family to live comfortably and enjoy the world we live in)
i want to live in the same town as my best friends.
i want to call london home.
i want to be romanced...by a man who's absolutely crazy about me. for a lifetime. who thinks i'm beautiful and the best girl ever, essentially. a love i can't outrun, outlove. out...anything. love.
i want a boy to love and spoil and all kinds of marvelous things.(the one mentioned above)
i want a puppy named winston.
and eventually, some babies.

that's all really.

on the eve of my twenty-something-th year.

Twenty minutes til the countdown to
Some kinda new wonderful
Experience the light/sound
Tell me what it means
When you say
Calculate the hours
Well, you count them back to me
And I cannot find the answer
Same as you cannot find me

Oh, They Like it when we fly inside
They try to make us run and hide
To the beat of a different drum
To the tune of the maddening hum
Oh, we’ve shaken their blood to the core
But they keep just coming back for more
I think I should just go back to bed
I got a case of the real mean reds

Hysterical
I threw that bottle at the door
At least I wanted to cos now
My hands are really sore
Cos I’ve been punching in the walls
I’m ready for a fight
I know you’ve never seen me like this
But something’s just not right

Oh, They Like it when we fly inside
They try to make us run and hide
To the beat of a different drum
To the tune of the maddening hum
Oh, we’ve shaken their blood to the core
But they keep just coming back for more
I think I should just go back to bed
I got a case of the real mean reds

------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Did you see hear it on the back porch?
Oh the man was walkin by here
all sinister and full of scorn
oh the sky was full of blue that year
they were talking of the hurricanes
too busy just to notice
the ticking of the pocket watch
still asking what the time is

Tender like the night
We ran from the site
We ran but not to hide
Sweet like wine the day
It was right as rain
I forgot to feel afraid

all the walls look like they’re listening
to the secrets I’ve disclosed here
the diaries repeating
confidential thoughts of love and fear
and they wrapped the words around my wrist
and I slept right through the fever
til my hands would not unclench the fist
but my words were getting clearer

Tender like the night
We ran from the site
We ran but not to hide
Sweet like wine the day
It was right as rain
I forgot to feel afraid

I sat next to the quiet one
And he told me of romances
My skin went red beneath the sun
So we moved beneath the branches
And I saw inside those furtive eyes
A hundred subtle glances
That caused the ghost in my heart to transpose
My weariness to dances

Tender like the night
We ran from the site
We ran but not to hide
Sweet like wine the day
It was right as rain
I forgot to feel afraid