If so I admire the way you bore. Cause sometimes, we aren't so different.
We both kind of feel like we are losing strength don't we? But it's okay. sometimes we need to regenerate I guess. Life takes us all to the strangest of places.
You did things I've never see you do before, said things that I've heard myself say.
___
Everything I do is judged
And they mostly get it wrong
But oh well
'Cuz the bathroom mirror has not budged
And the woman who lives there can tell
The truth from the stuff that they say
And she looks me in the eye
And says would you prefer the easy way?
No, well O.K. then
Don't cry
And I wonder if everything I do
I do instead of something I want to do more
The question fills my head
I know that there's no grand plan here
This is just the way it goes
And when everything else seems unclear
I guess at least I know
I do it for the joy it brings...
I do it for the joy it brings
Because I'm a joyful girl
Because the world owes me nothing
And we owe each other the world
I do it because it's the least I can do
I do it because I learned it from you
I do it just because I want to
Because I want to
-- Joyful Girl by Ani DiFranco
Friday, June 30, 2006
Before these crowded streets
"Yes I do see many of us afraid of scraps,
afraid of their big design" -Sandra McPherson
"There are times when a brief passing moment can hold a special place in our subconscious. Seeing someone for the first time can be such an occasion. And although the view may have lasted only an instant, our mind has a way of filling in what the eye didn’t see, creating an impression that can linger forever..." -James Christensen
______
Peering out of the bus window, I saw a blue streaked bird today. A pang of shock came at the sight, it walking about drinking from a smoky puddle of grease and water. It abided so naturally there at the corner gas station, instead of seeking out the unruly rural areas. It... made me sad.
It is so windy, today. Not only that, the winds have been warm which have a spooky way of leaving a calm in my bones. It does settle the mind for a moment.
Current humanity seems to enact a recipe for self decay by nature. We talked about it while driving down the road. Far from our roots.Thinking of that, I took the stairs instead of the elevator today, *pulled* open the door instead of gliding through the other electric servanting entrance.
It is a bit haunting the thought of it.
So perhaps Diamond should write a second volume of Guns, Germs, and Steel. this time he should focus on the entire populations conquistadores of the twenty first century.
Conquerers of quality, reality of being.
A thought came to me while cashiering, as I stooped to pick up a small penny from a transaction. Echoes of other penny occassions came. I see people drop them without a thought, just a small thing, little worth. Even a nickel or a dime, easily left, the effort not cost effective. I've always been drawn to flavor and detail,that with undemanding notices in the background. Not all pennies are round, but little scraps of being.
I laughed at the trouble I was having with swiping this coin back up. My nails were much to short for any ease with gripping small objects. My register would have noted its absence. I pick up every penny I am able to now, because I feel that pull i n my life, cause what those little things end up meaning to me. Again these minute particulars.
afraid of their big design" -Sandra McPherson
"There are times when a brief passing moment can hold a special place in our subconscious. Seeing someone for the first time can be such an occasion. And although the view may have lasted only an instant, our mind has a way of filling in what the eye didn’t see, creating an impression that can linger forever..." -James Christensen
______
Peering out of the bus window, I saw a blue streaked bird today. A pang of shock came at the sight, it walking about drinking from a smoky puddle of grease and water. It abided so naturally there at the corner gas station, instead of seeking out the unruly rural areas. It... made me sad.
It is so windy, today. Not only that, the winds have been warm which have a spooky way of leaving a calm in my bones. It does settle the mind for a moment.
Current humanity seems to enact a recipe for self decay by nature. We talked about it while driving down the road. Far from our roots.Thinking of that, I took the stairs instead of the elevator today, *pulled* open the door instead of gliding through the other electric servanting entrance.
It is a bit haunting the thought of it.
So perhaps Diamond should write a second volume of Guns, Germs, and Steel. this time he should focus on the entire populations conquistadores of the twenty first century.
Conquerers of quality, reality of being.
A thought came to me while cashiering, as I stooped to pick up a small penny from a transaction. Echoes of other penny occassions came. I see people drop them without a thought, just a small thing, little worth. Even a nickel or a dime, easily left, the effort not cost effective. I've always been drawn to flavor and detail,that with undemanding notices in the background. Not all pennies are round, but little scraps of being.
I laughed at the trouble I was having with swiping this coin back up. My nails were much to short for any ease with gripping small objects. My register would have noted its absence. I pick up every penny I am able to now, because I feel that pull i n my life, cause what those little things end up meaning to me. Again these minute particulars.
Delta
If you have taken this rubble for my past
raking through it for fragments you could sell
know that I long ago moved on
deeper into the heart of matter
If you think you can grasp me, think again
my story flows in more than one direction
a delta springing in the riverbed
with its five fingers spread
-Adrienne Rich
raking through it for fragments you could sell
know that I long ago moved on
deeper into the heart of matter
If you think you can grasp me, think again
my story flows in more than one direction
a delta springing in the riverbed
with its five fingers spread
-Adrienne Rich
Thursday, June 22, 2006
EXPECT NOTHING
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Expect nothing. Live frugally
On surprise.
Become a stranger
To need of pity
Or, if compassion be freely
Given out
Take only enough
Stop short of urge to plead
Then purge away the need.
Wish for nothing larger
Than your own small heart
Or greater than a star;
Tame wild disappointment
With caress unmoved and cold
Make of it a parka
For your soul.
Discover the reason why
So tiny human giant
Exists at all
So scared unwise
But expect nothing. Live frugally
On surprise.
-Alice Walker
Expect nothing. Live frugally
On surprise.
Become a stranger
To need of pity
Or, if compassion be freely
Given out
Take only enough
Stop short of urge to plead
Then purge away the need.
Wish for nothing larger
Than your own small heart
Or greater than a star;
Tame wild disappointment
With caress unmoved and cold
Make of it a parka
For your soul.
Discover the reason why
So tiny human giant
Exists at all
So scared unwise
But expect nothing. Live frugally
On surprise.
-Alice Walker
two rectangles
I hardly know what to say. I usually don't say much about these kinds of things. It seems that this society breeds departures of this kind. A very well tended to American value is minding one's own buisness.
I... I vowed to myself to look as hard as I can at people to see who they are and who they could become. I would hope that humanity could seek harmony, without living an eye for an eye always, everyman for himself. With the people in my life, I want to extend anything I can to them. Care, you know? Why? Because I know that hardly anyone else will, all of us rarely meet anyone who is able to give a damn anymore. What kind of existence is that?
But because I know this reality, I know to expect nothing, from any one person. People are not suppliers to my needs so I don't need their civility or their kindness. If I do see it, i recieve it with an appreciation.
It's a sad reality.
But that vow. Not always easy especially in moments like this.
She told me to save my time and stop calling. I've never remembered her like that... That we had gone separate ways and I was just a junior high friend, that I had no reason to tell her how to live her life. I didn't expect to be so misunderstood by one that I respected and looked up to so much. I have no idea what kind of image she has of me that made her say the things that she said. I can see why she came to the conclusion she has, when I think on it, sort of.
I've come to the conclusion that I am not accountable for this. I have no need to prove anything more than I already have. And so I expect nothing. However it does add an odd stillness to my day. I can laugh about it sometimes.
I... I vowed to myself to look as hard as I can at people to see who they are and who they could become. I would hope that humanity could seek harmony, without living an eye for an eye always, everyman for himself. With the people in my life, I want to extend anything I can to them. Care, you know? Why? Because I know that hardly anyone else will, all of us rarely meet anyone who is able to give a damn anymore. What kind of existence is that?
But because I know this reality, I know to expect nothing, from any one person. People are not suppliers to my needs so I don't need their civility or their kindness. If I do see it, i recieve it with an appreciation.
It's a sad reality.
But that vow. Not always easy especially in moments like this.
She told me to save my time and stop calling. I've never remembered her like that... That we had gone separate ways and I was just a junior high friend, that I had no reason to tell her how to live her life. I didn't expect to be so misunderstood by one that I respected and looked up to so much. I have no idea what kind of image she has of me that made her say the things that she said. I can see why she came to the conclusion she has, when I think on it, sort of.
I've come to the conclusion that I am not accountable for this. I have no need to prove anything more than I already have. And so I expect nothing. However it does add an odd stillness to my day. I can laugh about it sometimes.
history of us
i went all the way to paris to forget your face
captured in stained glass, young lives long since passed
statues of lovers every place
i went all across the continent to relieve this restless love
i walked through the ruins, icons of glory
smashed by the bombs from above
so we must love while these moments are still called today
take part in the pain of this passion play
stretching our youth as we must, until we are ashes to dust
until time makes history of us
jeu de paume's full of faces knowing peace, knowing strife
leisure and toil, still it's canvas and oil
there's just no medium for life
in the midst of the rubble i felt a sense of rebirth
in a dusty cathedral the living god called
and i prayed for my life here on earth
so we must love while these moments are still called today
take part in the pain of this passion play
stretching our youth as we must, until we are ashes to dust
until time makes history of us
there are mountains in switzerland, brilliant cold as they stand
from my hotel room, watching the half-moon
bleeding its light like a lamb
and the town is illumined, its tiny figures are fast asleep
and it dawns on me the time is upon me
to return to the flock i must keep
so we must love while these moments are still called today
take part in the pain of this passion play
stretching our youth as we must, until we are ashes to dust
until time makes history of us
-Indigo Girls
--------
captured in stained glass, young lives long since passed
statues of lovers every place
i went all across the continent to relieve this restless love
i walked through the ruins, icons of glory
smashed by the bombs from above
so we must love while these moments are still called today
take part in the pain of this passion play
stretching our youth as we must, until we are ashes to dust
until time makes history of us
jeu de paume's full of faces knowing peace, knowing strife
leisure and toil, still it's canvas and oil
there's just no medium for life
in the midst of the rubble i felt a sense of rebirth
in a dusty cathedral the living god called
and i prayed for my life here on earth
so we must love while these moments are still called today
take part in the pain of this passion play
stretching our youth as we must, until we are ashes to dust
until time makes history of us
there are mountains in switzerland, brilliant cold as they stand
from my hotel room, watching the half-moon
bleeding its light like a lamb
and the town is illumined, its tiny figures are fast asleep
and it dawns on me the time is upon me
to return to the flock i must keep
so we must love while these moments are still called today
take part in the pain of this passion play
stretching our youth as we must, until we are ashes to dust
until time makes history of us
-Indigo Girls
--------
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
*sigh*
Now that I turn into a tomato in front of my land lord...
Yeah.
I've been contacting people that I've neglected to keep in touch with the past few months. I hate losing touch. Touch is something that is too easy to lose.
Life just pulls us all out in different directions. No, I would hope that we don't "soon forget the things we cannot see."
A descision is at hand right now... I'm a little unsure. I don't want to kick anyone out. However it is so strange. I feel awkward sometimes around these two, they are practically married now and... That's just it I feel like an occupant in a married couple's place. Not to mention 2/3's of the people I know would pale at the thought of me living with a guy here. I can't describe why or how this gets to me. It does, and I don't like the way it feels. John will tell me to stay out of things before I even say anything. I try to be ignorant and impervious. I can be outwardly at least but. Really I can't be. I don't agree with all the fighting. I try to keep it their buisness but you know when you hear a man screaming out and a girl cussing back at him, it's hard to pretend nothing is going on. Or when he has to sleep on the couch. I want quiet sometimes. I loved how there seemed to be less anger here but that has changed since he has stayed here. Right at home again I guess.
I just...
Yeah.
I've been contacting people that I've neglected to keep in touch with the past few months. I hate losing touch. Touch is something that is too easy to lose.
Life just pulls us all out in different directions. No, I would hope that we don't "soon forget the things we cannot see."
A descision is at hand right now... I'm a little unsure. I don't want to kick anyone out. However it is so strange. I feel awkward sometimes around these two, they are practically married now and... That's just it I feel like an occupant in a married couple's place. Not to mention 2/3's of the people I know would pale at the thought of me living with a guy here. I can't describe why or how this gets to me. It does, and I don't like the way it feels. John will tell me to stay out of things before I even say anything. I try to be ignorant and impervious. I can be outwardly at least but. Really I can't be. I don't agree with all the fighting. I try to keep it their buisness but you know when you hear a man screaming out and a girl cussing back at him, it's hard to pretend nothing is going on. Or when he has to sleep on the couch. I want quiet sometimes. I loved how there seemed to be less anger here but that has changed since he has stayed here. Right at home again I guess.
I just...
Monday, June 19, 2006
on the scale of awesome
Today can only be expressed as adventurous.
This is so why I take the bus, to meet other eccentrics like myself.
I made a new nerd friend today. I saw a mac laptop, which this guy carried around. Funny that I saw him going inbound and outbound. The second time I got gumption and asked to finally desaturate my curiousity for these pretty little "mac tops".
How gratifing it is to talk about little nit picky mac functions and of course, "the big switch". Even better to hear that a previous tech support had some of the same issues that I currently have. Of course, this "switch" was well worth it as he was also going into graphic design, (cool!!) no better way to go then a mac in that rodeo. We both decided that Trekkies are quite fun and terribly misunderstood.
It was great to geek out with someone over the more retro game consoles. Holy shioot this guy had a Jaguar, and was also tracking an intellivision! Those are impossible!! It was easy for him though, from what I understood he was a kid when these consoles were released. I've never talked to someone that has bought a packaged atari or sega off the shelves.
Which reminds me!!! I did not buy that gamegear I found at work. *sobbing* I hope its not gone... Perhaps I can finally get that pac man game for the atari. We all love pac man just admit it. Little yellow chomper dude.
I just got my order for the awesomest tee shirt today. Makes me proud.
I caught the bus to work 20 minutes early but still arrived 20 minutes late because of traffic down in Sunset. One of these days you should all take a day off and observe the Whitney as she darts about in a mad flurry of a hurry. Better than pay per view.
There was more traffic in savers of course, being a monday sale. Sheesh. Too bad though. I heard an ever so familiar voice, and yelled out "Susan?" Responding to her name, my anthropology proffessor turned around and peered out of her designer glasses, "Whitney! How have you been?" Oh, I wished we would have had time to talk. She was picking up some home decor for her cabin. Now that was on the scale of awesome.
On top of all this today people were so kind. I found myself asking how many girls it took to shove a desk in a car after a customer had purchased furniture. One of em was pretty tough actually, just took the reigns and started haulin. That was so so so cool, it was more in her tough ass demeanor than anything. To the point, a stranger offered a hand to these girls, who was parked a little bit away from them, kinda watching us with nothing to do. That was... Nice.
The second, a mother and her son came to my register. I subtotalled and this kid started rummagging through his pockets, as his mom went through her purse. He was what like seven and here he was "dont worry I want to pay for ya" with his baby toothed grin. It was so incredibly cute.
Ashley my coworker said sometime she is going to just go out and relocate to England. Random. Just like that. I also talked quite seriously about leaving the country. We were talking about it and I thought to myself what's keeping me from doing this kind of thing? Why can't I? It's doable, easily doable as seen so well in my aunt's wanderlust. She could give me the low down.
So yes, a day of many an adventure.
This is so why I take the bus, to meet other eccentrics like myself.
I made a new nerd friend today. I saw a mac laptop, which this guy carried around. Funny that I saw him going inbound and outbound. The second time I got gumption and asked to finally desaturate my curiousity for these pretty little "mac tops".
How gratifing it is to talk about little nit picky mac functions and of course, "the big switch". Even better to hear that a previous tech support had some of the same issues that I currently have. Of course, this "switch" was well worth it as he was also going into graphic design, (cool!!) no better way to go then a mac in that rodeo. We both decided that Trekkies are quite fun and terribly misunderstood.
It was great to geek out with someone over the more retro game consoles. Holy shioot this guy had a Jaguar, and was also tracking an intellivision! Those are impossible!! It was easy for him though, from what I understood he was a kid when these consoles were released. I've never talked to someone that has bought a packaged atari or sega off the shelves.
Which reminds me!!! I did not buy that gamegear I found at work. *sobbing* I hope its not gone... Perhaps I can finally get that pac man game for the atari. We all love pac man just admit it. Little yellow chomper dude.
I just got my order for the awesomest tee shirt today. Makes me proud.
I caught the bus to work 20 minutes early but still arrived 20 minutes late because of traffic down in Sunset. One of these days you should all take a day off and observe the Whitney as she darts about in a mad flurry of a hurry. Better than pay per view.
There was more traffic in savers of course, being a monday sale. Sheesh. Too bad though. I heard an ever so familiar voice, and yelled out "Susan?" Responding to her name, my anthropology proffessor turned around and peered out of her designer glasses, "Whitney! How have you been?" Oh, I wished we would have had time to talk. She was picking up some home decor for her cabin. Now that was on the scale of awesome.
On top of all this today people were so kind. I found myself asking how many girls it took to shove a desk in a car after a customer had purchased furniture. One of em was pretty tough actually, just took the reigns and started haulin. That was so so so cool, it was more in her tough ass demeanor than anything. To the point, a stranger offered a hand to these girls, who was parked a little bit away from them, kinda watching us with nothing to do. That was... Nice.
The second, a mother and her son came to my register. I subtotalled and this kid started rummagging through his pockets, as his mom went through her purse. He was what like seven and here he was "dont worry I want to pay for ya" with his baby toothed grin. It was so incredibly cute.
Ashley my coworker said sometime she is going to just go out and relocate to England. Random. Just like that. I also talked quite seriously about leaving the country. We were talking about it and I thought to myself what's keeping me from doing this kind of thing? Why can't I? It's doable, easily doable as seen so well in my aunt's wanderlust. She could give me the low down.
So yes, a day of many an adventure.
deteriorations
We live in the age of the short attention span- where vacuousness is a virtue, where time to stop and think is rarely found and where everything goes in one ear and out the other.
-angloplugging.co.uk
*****
Sing
There is this thing that's like touching except you don't touch
Back in the day it just went without saying at all
All the world's history gradually dying of shock
There is thing that's like talking except you don't talk
You sing
You sing
Sing for the bartender sing for the janitor sing
Sing for the cameras sing for the animals sing
Sing for the children shooting the children sing
Sing for the teachers who told you that you couldn't sing
Just sing
There is thing keeping everyone's lungs and lips locked
It is called fear and it's seeing a great renaissance
After the show you can not sing wherever you want
But for now lets just pretend that we're gonna get bombed
So sing
Sing cause its obvious sing for the astronauts sing
Sing for the president sing for the terrorists sing
Sing for the soccer team sing for the janjaweed sing
Sing for the kid with the phone who refuses to sing
Just sing
Life is no cabaret
We don't care what you say
We're inviting you anyway
-Dresden Dolls
**
The loss can be a leak in history or a shrinking in the vitality of everyday life. --Adrienne
*****
A couple of years ago, a tabloid in one of India’s metros called in a consultant to help them make the newspaper more reader-friendly. “Keep stories short,” he advised. Shorter stories, snappy paragraphs, simple sentences; suck the reader in and spit him out before he gets bored. This is the age of the short-attention span, and we see it all around us.
It’s there in the journalism. Tabloids keep their stories brief. Agency copy often consists entirely of one-sentence paragraphs: news for dummies. Magazines have found that the pages that readers turn to most are the snippetty ones, that don’t make demands on the reader’s time – like the last page of India Today, or the second- and third-last of Outlook. One of the reasons that blogs are gaining in popularity along the world, in fact, is that they cater to the short-attention span: the most popular typically have brief, pithy posts that efficiently encapsulate the subject they’re on about.
We see this also in the way we consume music. Soon, all music will be sold in the form of digital downloads, which is convenient because most people prefer to buy songs rather than albums, preferring to listen to a familiar song they like over and over rather than explore an artist’s oeuvre. It’s all a-la-carte now, and concept albums might soon be the dinosaurs of music. Television channels have also recognised this: MTV India found years ago that their maximum-TRP shows were their so-called vignettes, the two-to-three minute snippets that viewers can consume easily, like MTV Bakra and Filmi Fundas. We are hungry for the easily digestible. Ten-course meals? Sorry, no time, could you summarise please?
Television, in fact, is often blamed as a cause and not a symptom of this. Camille Paglia recently wrote: “The jump and jitter of U.S. commercial television have demonstrably reduced attention span in the young. The Web too, with its addictive unfurling of hypertext, encourages restless acceleration.”
-India Uncut
**********
Fuel
they were digging a new foudation in Manhattan
and they discovered a slave cemetary there
may their souls rest easy
now that lynching is frowned upon
and we've moved on to the electric chair
and i wonder who's gonna be president, tweedle dum or tweedle dummer
and who's gonna have the big blockbuster box office this summer
howabout we put up a wall between houses and the highway
and you can go your way , and i can go my may
except all the radios agree with all the tvs
and all the magazines agree with all the radios
and i keep hearing that same damn song everywhere i go
maybe i should put a bucket over my head
and a marshmallow in each ear
and stumble around for
another dumb- dumb waiting for another hit song to appear
people used to make records
as in a record of an event
the event of people playing music in a room
now everything is cross-marketing
its about sunglasses and shoes
or guns and drugs
you choose
we got it rehashed
we got it half-assed
we're digging up all the graves
and we're spitting on the past
and you can choose between the colors
of the lipstick on the whores
cause we know the difference between
the font of 20% more
and the font of teriakiyi
you tell me
how does it...make you feel
you tell me
what's ...real
and they say that alcoholics are always alcoholics
even when they're as dry as my lips for years
even when they're stranded on a small desert island
with no place within 2,000 miles to buy beer
and i wonder
is he different
is he different
has he changed what's he about...
or is he just a liar with nothing to lie about
Am i headed for the same brick wall
is there anything i can do about
anything at all
except go back to that corner in Manhattan
and dig deeper, dig deeper this time
down beneath the impossible pain of our history
beneath unknown bones
beneath the bedrock of the mystery
beneath the sewage systems and the path drain
beneath the cobblestones and the water mains
beneath the traffic of friendships and street deals
beneath the screeching of kamikaze cab wheels
beneath everything i can think of to think about
beneath it all, beneath all get out
beneath the good and the kind and the stupid and the cruel
there's a fire just waiting for fuel
-Ani DiFranco
**
Songless
What is the point
of being artists
if we cannot save our life?
That is the cry
that wakes us
in our sleep.
being happy is not the only
happiness
And how many gadgets
can one person manage
at one time?
Over in the Other World
the women count
their wealth
in empty
calabashes.
How to transport
food
from watering hole
to watering
hole
has ceased to be
a problem
since the animals
died
and seed grain shrunk
to fit the pocket
Now
it is just another matter
of who can create
the finest
decorations
on the empty pots.
They say in Nicaragua
the whole
government
writes,
makes music
and paints,
saving their own
and helping the people save
their own lives.
(I ask you to notice
who, songless,
rules us
here.)
These are not containers
void of food,
These are not decorations
on empty pots.
-Alice Walker
******************
this is a translation of a Chinese poem, it is a little choppy, yes
No Time
I must get far away from this city
with it's soot streaked curbs
and people who pass each other
without a smile or a word
'No time! I have no time!' She answered me,
the girl dressed all in lavender
Still, she did answer me, and yet
I didn't dare ask her,
'What important things have you time for?'
But whispered to myself instead
- the homeless whispering to the homeless -
there are those who love but have no time
for loving.
If this is true, how can birds fly back to
their nests?
How can poetry be written?
If this is true, birds and poems will die.
Yes I must get away from the city
If there is no time, no time here
to speak one word,
to share one moment's laughter...
- Nguyen Sa
_________
What are we all becoming?
-angloplugging.co.uk
*****
Sing
There is this thing that's like touching except you don't touch
Back in the day it just went without saying at all
All the world's history gradually dying of shock
There is thing that's like talking except you don't talk
You sing
You sing
Sing for the bartender sing for the janitor sing
Sing for the cameras sing for the animals sing
Sing for the children shooting the children sing
Sing for the teachers who told you that you couldn't sing
Just sing
There is thing keeping everyone's lungs and lips locked
It is called fear and it's seeing a great renaissance
After the show you can not sing wherever you want
But for now lets just pretend that we're gonna get bombed
So sing
Sing cause its obvious sing for the astronauts sing
Sing for the president sing for the terrorists sing
Sing for the soccer team sing for the janjaweed sing
Sing for the kid with the phone who refuses to sing
Just sing
Life is no cabaret
We don't care what you say
We're inviting you anyway
-Dresden Dolls
**
The loss can be a leak in history or a shrinking in the vitality of everyday life. --Adrienne
*****
A couple of years ago, a tabloid in one of India’s metros called in a consultant to help them make the newspaper more reader-friendly. “Keep stories short,” he advised. Shorter stories, snappy paragraphs, simple sentences; suck the reader in and spit him out before he gets bored. This is the age of the short-attention span, and we see it all around us.
It’s there in the journalism. Tabloids keep their stories brief. Agency copy often consists entirely of one-sentence paragraphs: news for dummies. Magazines have found that the pages that readers turn to most are the snippetty ones, that don’t make demands on the reader’s time – like the last page of India Today, or the second- and third-last of Outlook. One of the reasons that blogs are gaining in popularity along the world, in fact, is that they cater to the short-attention span: the most popular typically have brief, pithy posts that efficiently encapsulate the subject they’re on about.
We see this also in the way we consume music. Soon, all music will be sold in the form of digital downloads, which is convenient because most people prefer to buy songs rather than albums, preferring to listen to a familiar song they like over and over rather than explore an artist’s oeuvre. It’s all a-la-carte now, and concept albums might soon be the dinosaurs of music. Television channels have also recognised this: MTV India found years ago that their maximum-TRP shows were their so-called vignettes, the two-to-three minute snippets that viewers can consume easily, like MTV Bakra and Filmi Fundas. We are hungry for the easily digestible. Ten-course meals? Sorry, no time, could you summarise please?
Television, in fact, is often blamed as a cause and not a symptom of this. Camille Paglia recently wrote: “The jump and jitter of U.S. commercial television have demonstrably reduced attention span in the young. The Web too, with its addictive unfurling of hypertext, encourages restless acceleration.”
-India Uncut
**********
Fuel
they were digging a new foudation in Manhattan
and they discovered a slave cemetary there
may their souls rest easy
now that lynching is frowned upon
and we've moved on to the electric chair
and i wonder who's gonna be president, tweedle dum or tweedle dummer
and who's gonna have the big blockbuster box office this summer
howabout we put up a wall between houses and the highway
and you can go your way , and i can go my may
except all the radios agree with all the tvs
and all the magazines agree with all the radios
and i keep hearing that same damn song everywhere i go
maybe i should put a bucket over my head
and a marshmallow in each ear
and stumble around for
another dumb- dumb waiting for another hit song to appear
people used to make records
as in a record of an event
the event of people playing music in a room
now everything is cross-marketing
its about sunglasses and shoes
or guns and drugs
you choose
we got it rehashed
we got it half-assed
we're digging up all the graves
and we're spitting on the past
and you can choose between the colors
of the lipstick on the whores
cause we know the difference between
the font of 20% more
and the font of teriakiyi
you tell me
how does it...make you feel
you tell me
what's ...real
and they say that alcoholics are always alcoholics
even when they're as dry as my lips for years
even when they're stranded on a small desert island
with no place within 2,000 miles to buy beer
and i wonder
is he different
is he different
has he changed what's he about...
or is he just a liar with nothing to lie about
Am i headed for the same brick wall
is there anything i can do about
anything at all
except go back to that corner in Manhattan
and dig deeper, dig deeper this time
down beneath the impossible pain of our history
beneath unknown bones
beneath the bedrock of the mystery
beneath the sewage systems and the path drain
beneath the cobblestones and the water mains
beneath the traffic of friendships and street deals
beneath the screeching of kamikaze cab wheels
beneath everything i can think of to think about
beneath it all, beneath all get out
beneath the good and the kind and the stupid and the cruel
there's a fire just waiting for fuel
-Ani DiFranco
**
Songless
What is the point
of being artists
if we cannot save our life?
That is the cry
that wakes us
in our sleep.
being happy is not the only
happiness
And how many gadgets
can one person manage
at one time?
Over in the Other World
the women count
their wealth
in empty
calabashes.
How to transport
food
from watering hole
to watering
hole
has ceased to be
a problem
since the animals
died
and seed grain shrunk
to fit the pocket
Now
it is just another matter
of who can create
the finest
decorations
on the empty pots.
They say in Nicaragua
the whole
government
writes,
makes music
and paints,
saving their own
and helping the people save
their own lives.
(I ask you to notice
who, songless,
rules us
here.)
These are not containers
void of food,
These are not decorations
on empty pots.
-Alice Walker
******************
this is a translation of a Chinese poem, it is a little choppy, yes
No Time
I must get far away from this city
with it's soot streaked curbs
and people who pass each other
without a smile or a word
'No time! I have no time!' She answered me,
the girl dressed all in lavender
Still, she did answer me, and yet
I didn't dare ask her,
'What important things have you time for?'
But whispered to myself instead
- the homeless whispering to the homeless -
there are those who love but have no time
for loving.
If this is true, how can birds fly back to
their nests?
How can poetry be written?
If this is true, birds and poems will die.
Yes I must get away from the city
If there is no time, no time here
to speak one word,
to share one moment's laughter...
- Nguyen Sa
_________
What are we all becoming?
Sunday, June 18, 2006
the lottery of triage
Everyone says they want to be a fly on the wall. I do. I just got an accidental call from my parents. I don't know how it worked really.
After a long series of my hellos is anyone picking up I about hung up. Until I heard my name mentioned a few times.
I don't know if they meant to call and have me over hear or not. Hard to say
Wasn't anything big either. well... Whatever. Don't always know what to say to these things.
On a lighter note, I woke up this morning with a perfect knowledge of where I am. Usually it takes me a moment to connect with my surroundings here though I know where I am if that makes sense. This time, no my room looked and felt perfectly natural again.
Well enough for me to slip back into sleep instead of forcing my self to take in my surroundings so I can better connect with it. It's hard to explain just how much my psyche attaches to my environment. I only know that it does. However I think I caught something in me from my parents families that skipped my parents, nomadic senses.
It's not always easy here out on my own but god, it is so worth it.
After a long series of my hellos is anyone picking up I about hung up. Until I heard my name mentioned a few times.
I don't know if they meant to call and have me over hear or not. Hard to say
Wasn't anything big either. well... Whatever. Don't always know what to say to these things.
On a lighter note, I woke up this morning with a perfect knowledge of where I am. Usually it takes me a moment to connect with my surroundings here though I know where I am if that makes sense. This time, no my room looked and felt perfectly natural again.
Well enough for me to slip back into sleep instead of forcing my self to take in my surroundings so I can better connect with it. It's hard to explain just how much my psyche attaches to my environment. I only know that it does. However I think I caught something in me from my parents families that skipped my parents, nomadic senses.
It's not always easy here out on my own but god, it is so worth it.
Saturday, June 17, 2006
about these kinds of things
*sigh*
I don't know what to think.
How did it happen that I am now living along with my roommate's fiance? Until who knows when?
I wouldn't mind so much but the fighting gets to me. He has the right kind of anger that makes me stony eyed.
He became guardedly upset when he saw I moved some of his drawings from the walls. I had replaced them with decorations I had bought. That I had replaced his stuffed monkey on the ceiling with a hanging pot. That I moved the candles that used to be on the tables. "but we like to have candlelit dinners!" Those candles are just chunky christmas candles I don't see the whole... Of couse they can be put back at dinner time. I just wanted to put in a center piece. It's not like my things haven't been moved around and used without me. I'm not really used to guys holding grudges, honestly.
What the.. All I wanted to do was make the place look more homely to me. I am not used to bare walls. I had understood his pictures being a temporary arrangemnet. Then again I thought this whole thing was a temporary arrangement.
'kay Whit, get to the bottom of this. If ya dont say anything he will stay here until August. I don't find much comfort in living along with a guy. We've not made any arrangements to split rent or bills but even so he does contribute in other ways.
Ugh. Too bad my tact left me tonight eh? I get to be the evil roommate with pointed horns. . .
I don't know what to think.
How did it happen that I am now living along with my roommate's fiance? Until who knows when?
I wouldn't mind so much but the fighting gets to me. He has the right kind of anger that makes me stony eyed.
He became guardedly upset when he saw I moved some of his drawings from the walls. I had replaced them with decorations I had bought. That I had replaced his stuffed monkey on the ceiling with a hanging pot. That I moved the candles that used to be on the tables. "but we like to have candlelit dinners!" Those candles are just chunky christmas candles I don't see the whole... Of couse they can be put back at dinner time. I just wanted to put in a center piece. It's not like my things haven't been moved around and used without me. I'm not really used to guys holding grudges, honestly.
What the.. All I wanted to do was make the place look more homely to me. I am not used to bare walls. I had understood his pictures being a temporary arrangemnet. Then again I thought this whole thing was a temporary arrangement.
'kay Whit, get to the bottom of this. If ya dont say anything he will stay here until August. I don't find much comfort in living along with a guy. We've not made any arrangements to split rent or bills but even so he does contribute in other ways.
Ugh. Too bad my tact left me tonight eh? I get to be the evil roommate with pointed horns. . .
Thursday, June 08, 2006
Transcontinental
I lift a wing, my head filled with the continent invents a floating body. It's not that I am fleeing because I accept what I am with the most complete submission, not to flee but to hover a bit above the stock. In fact, I don't really take off, a foot is always firmly secured in my sand-filled shoe. And I can't really lighten my ballast because I can't forget what I am. I am however able to see a bit further, a daily contact so that I don't rot in place, an instinct in the shape of a safety valve. Using a dream to harbour a different death, a different destination, infinite travel possibilities, It's a way of seeing things.
-Morthem Vlade Art
-Morthem Vlade Art
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
she drinks coffee at midnight, when the moment is not right
It just bit through me just now... Just a glimpse of the corner was all, the closet slightly agape, files from the cabinet, my chair at an angle. The moudling on the corner. My place for thinking has changed. How simple really so why should a small detail make so much fuss?
It used to be the ceiling, I'd be on my back looking up at my paper snowflakes, maybe upstairs curled on the couch stairing out the window. Where I would let my mind unravel, my thoughts saturate into a new feeling.
I am trying to put familiarity into this corner. I usually can keep a degree of familiarity along with me, wherever I am. Not when I drift off into my own world though. I really daydream alot, just get lost in my own world, spend hours just thinking... But with all that I need, the distance I drift needs an anchor, a thing of familiarity. Especially at that point where I go back to whatever I've needed to do and pull away my gaze from those particular spots. The bending of light through the shades, a faint twirl of my snowflake.
Oh goodness. I need more Chai.
Why is it that we feel we can't say what people truly mean to us, Kailu? Very aimiable goal you have, when you see something about someone that is good, tell them. Why does it need to be so secret? Maybe we can make more slams and lifts on life, on the warm pavement and stare stony eyed into the sky, swapping disarming and curious occurances.
I've been thinking about this ever since you said that... Why do we all take so much time composing ourselves to mask what we appreciate? We just don't see how urgent it is. I believed Vazzi when he said that the people here don't look at each other much, are so quick to get angry, almost arrogant because they kind of ignore... He said it wasn't like that where he was from, where he had been.
We do find everyone in minute particulars, Blake. So when will we all see that and notice how fleeting any small message is? I try to use a person's name at least once when I am with them. Few things are more closer to you than your name, your word. Just address that they are there. Subtle things like that...
You said you got to ask yourself if you feel content with it, happy... You just say things so free of bias and judgement now and then, it's good. The world needs more of that sometimes.
It used to be the ceiling, I'd be on my back looking up at my paper snowflakes, maybe upstairs curled on the couch stairing out the window. Where I would let my mind unravel, my thoughts saturate into a new feeling.
I am trying to put familiarity into this corner. I usually can keep a degree of familiarity along with me, wherever I am. Not when I drift off into my own world though. I really daydream alot, just get lost in my own world, spend hours just thinking... But with all that I need, the distance I drift needs an anchor, a thing of familiarity. Especially at that point where I go back to whatever I've needed to do and pull away my gaze from those particular spots. The bending of light through the shades, a faint twirl of my snowflake.
Oh goodness. I need more Chai.
Why is it that we feel we can't say what people truly mean to us, Kailu? Very aimiable goal you have, when you see something about someone that is good, tell them. Why does it need to be so secret? Maybe we can make more slams and lifts on life, on the warm pavement and stare stony eyed into the sky, swapping disarming and curious occurances.
I've been thinking about this ever since you said that... Why do we all take so much time composing ourselves to mask what we appreciate? We just don't see how urgent it is. I believed Vazzi when he said that the people here don't look at each other much, are so quick to get angry, almost arrogant because they kind of ignore... He said it wasn't like that where he was from, where he had been.
We do find everyone in minute particulars, Blake. So when will we all see that and notice how fleeting any small message is? I try to use a person's name at least once when I am with them. Few things are more closer to you than your name, your word. Just address that they are there. Subtle things like that...
You said you got to ask yourself if you feel content with it, happy... You just say things so free of bias and judgement now and then, it's good. The world needs more of that sometimes.
Monday, June 05, 2006
pilgrimage
Found an interesting quote earlier from a seemingly interesting stranger's blog.
“a woman is not a potted plant
her roots bound to the confines
of her house …
a woman is wilderness
unbounded” -alice walker
“the fundamental question about revolution
as lorraine hansberry was not afraid to know
is not simply whether I am willing to give up my life
but if I am prepared to give up my comfort:
clean sheets on my bed
the speed of my dishwasher
and my gas stove …
paintings I have revered stick against my walls
as unconcerned as saints …
yet not one lifeline thrown by the artist
beyond the frame
reaches the boy whose eyes were target
for a soldier’s careless aim. …” -alice walker
I love Walker by the way. Amongst one of my favorite poets.
* * *
I hope I am making the most of my time. I hoped that after school got out I could have a period of introspection, one of reading, cultivation, creation, evaluation, meditation. Sadly, today felt productive going down to Ross, actually living my one of two living spaces. I even bought two books today, one on drawing human anatomy and the other an origami enyclopedia. *laughs* Always with my paper worlds...
Drawing from what I mentioned earlier, an aspiration of mine is to learn the art of meditation. It's purpose intrigues me, stimultaneous removal and connection. You learn to concentrate on releasing independent attributions. What is it but the art of focus? The challenge focus presents is that of applied measurement.
Also I had planned to journey through a myriad of various readings. From the current book I have been eternally reading (I need to finish it) Field Notes on the Compassionate Life, selected writings of Virginia Woolf, Adrianne Rich, Emerson and Thoureau, Joseph Campbell, and Carl Jung... Much more on that list than is listed. I wanted to read up more on Rilke, Alice Walker, Nikki Giovanni, and Mark Strand... Brush up on life's imagery...
I had hoped that this would be a period dedicated to finding my own spirituality. I look at the head way I have not made and I feel my heart - sink. Truly the only journey is one within but from where does one embark?
It's not too late, not even close to over yet. Even so, that sets off no sirens, no dramatics in the background, the soundtrack has long since been cut. This is life in the raw, life itself simply uncut.
It's what we can make of the measure...
“a woman is not a potted plant
her roots bound to the confines
of her house …
a woman is wilderness
unbounded” -alice walker
“the fundamental question about revolution
as lorraine hansberry was not afraid to know
is not simply whether I am willing to give up my life
but if I am prepared to give up my comfort:
clean sheets on my bed
the speed of my dishwasher
and my gas stove …
paintings I have revered stick against my walls
as unconcerned as saints …
yet not one lifeline thrown by the artist
beyond the frame
reaches the boy whose eyes were target
for a soldier’s careless aim. …” -alice walker
I love Walker by the way. Amongst one of my favorite poets.
* * *
I hope I am making the most of my time. I hoped that after school got out I could have a period of introspection, one of reading, cultivation, creation, evaluation, meditation. Sadly, today felt productive going down to Ross, actually living my one of two living spaces. I even bought two books today, one on drawing human anatomy and the other an origami enyclopedia. *laughs* Always with my paper worlds...
Drawing from what I mentioned earlier, an aspiration of mine is to learn the art of meditation. It's purpose intrigues me, stimultaneous removal and connection. You learn to concentrate on releasing independent attributions. What is it but the art of focus? The challenge focus presents is that of applied measurement.
Also I had planned to journey through a myriad of various readings. From the current book I have been eternally reading (I need to finish it) Field Notes on the Compassionate Life, selected writings of Virginia Woolf, Adrianne Rich, Emerson and Thoureau, Joseph Campbell, and Carl Jung... Much more on that list than is listed. I wanted to read up more on Rilke, Alice Walker, Nikki Giovanni, and Mark Strand... Brush up on life's imagery...
I had hoped that this would be a period dedicated to finding my own spirituality. I look at the head way I have not made and I feel my heart - sink. Truly the only journey is one within but from where does one embark?
It's not too late, not even close to over yet. Even so, that sets off no sirens, no dramatics in the background, the soundtrack has long since been cut. This is life in the raw, life itself simply uncut.
It's what we can make of the measure...
amongst a gypsy
There are a few words for me, that aren't quite me but are becoming me. Transient, vagabond one could say... It takes some time to articulate. I travel about with Gypsy feet, never completely in one place.
~I'll be the girl who sings for my supper... ~
Random shreds of songs of current / lasting intrigue continue to flood over my head. I am finding a common thread to the songs I love the most as of late. That of a free spirit. That free spiritedness that is within just calls and continues to call, then simply arrives invited or not. It was one that I had left overtime by accident.
~and so here I stand, with a sword in my hand, you can say it one more time, what you don't like, have a seat while I take to the sky~
I have journeyed through my calm, but as such almost forgotten my wonder..
Parts of myself I saw flicker have newly begun to reappear. Residing here on my own has changed so much. It's about sitting in a quiet place, and asking myself what I hear... What has been heard, and what has not yet been told.
~I'll be the girl who sings for my supper... ~
Random shreds of songs of current / lasting intrigue continue to flood over my head. I am finding a common thread to the songs I love the most as of late. That of a free spirit. That free spiritedness that is within just calls and continues to call, then simply arrives invited or not. It was one that I had left overtime by accident.
~and so here I stand, with a sword in my hand, you can say it one more time, what you don't like, have a seat while I take to the sky~
I have journeyed through my calm, but as such almost forgotten my wonder..
Parts of myself I saw flicker have newly begun to reappear. Residing here on my own has changed so much. It's about sitting in a quiet place, and asking myself what I hear... What has been heard, and what has not yet been told.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
