I'm listening to: Billy Idol - Eyes Without a Face

Ironically, to encounter the opaque boundaries of consciousness is an unwelcome elucidation. Like a book with sections of pages stapled shut, the mind does a lot of its own stapling behind my back. There's so many important things I've forgotten (to an abnormal degree?) and been more than mildly surprised to recall upon some triggering event.

These lapses in memory begin as sparks falling on the mental fabric, burning holes that gradually grow larger and larger, and the threads that crossover - axes of time and space - come undone as well. In the anarchy that ensues in its stifled sound, it might be attributed to the subconscious getting a little too greedy and territorially aggressive. Would that it could manifest more tangibly, even as a hallucination in the style of House with Amber.

How much can we really believe what we think we remember? Mental checkpoints and distinctions drawn are as volatile as plates composing the Earth's shifting crust; we are never back exactly where we last left off. I might be getting athazagoraphobic. What kind of phobia is the fear thereof?



Les yeux sans visage.

I'm listening to: Joss Stone - Fell in Love with a Boy

You're the dream that hasn't ended
And I'm still anxious for rest
Your words they seem to hang above my head

You're the bud before the flower,
Unfurls into full bloom
Captivating beauty, but it maybe all too soon

You're the song that writes a story,
But leaves a lot to read
The closest thing to perfect, but the farthest thing from me.

 
 
How can something make such perfect sense and be completely crazy at the same time? It obviously can't. I just have to take that back. Reason, as a tool, is useful only within limits and can't operate on anything and everything. Evidently, not this. I'm done losing sleep (not literally) over it trying to iron the stupid kinks out.
 
This post ends prematurely, because I cannot at the same time satisfactorily articulate and obscure (for very good reasons, I promise you) my thoughts any further, and there is clearly no point in attempting to do so.
 
On a separate note, thank you so much for the late night conversations and fresh new perspectives. That you're halfway around the world, I wish it wasn't so; but I've also realised the physical distance doesn't really matter sometimes. I <3 you very much and I can't wait to see you again in June =)

I'm listening to: The Drifters - This Magic Moment

Chaque fois que tu t'en vas
Je pretends que tout va bien



And then it happened
It took me by surprise
I knew that you felt it too
By the look in your eyes

I'm listening to: The Platters - Only You

Haven't I already buried you?

In The Last Vampire, our 5000 year-old protagonist gets an opportunity to go back in time to a pivotal moment in her history when with a knife in her hand, she has to make a decision regarding her friend's yakshini-possessed baby. What she initially did was decide not to kill him, triggering the birth of the vampiric race (since he was the first vampire) which left a long trail of blood across the centuries to follow. This time, she does otherwise, so her life technically ends where it began - in a desert in Rajastan at the dawn of human civilization within a comparatively short span of time. On the other hand, it is later revealed that the entire narrative has been documented by her friend of the modern day whom she met in Oregon and shares a unique psychic connection with.

So, does her 5000 year-old (hi)story really exist or not? More broadly, what does it mean to qualify the existence of an entity with regard to time and against what other measures can this be done? I think I've found my answer, and it's a pretty one.

Bon soir, mon chéri.



There's a place that ends here, I know
When they close the gates I'll cry.

I'm listening to: Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist

This is what it comes down to. The human mind possesses the freedom to conceive of and make choices, or conversely, is imprisoned under such an illusion which is powered by a combination of ignorance and indignance. When you are caught somewhere in the middle, you curse your luck for being in a position where the imperfection of semi-realness is incandescently illuminated. You can't stand knowing you're not holding the real controls.

What does this mean? What it doesn't mean is we can just kick back and relax. What it does mean is: things are a lot simpler and a lot more complicated at the same time. The context is intricately complex, but despite the mess we do have room to breathe, by virtue of the fact that in view of the bigger picture, our choices carry very little weight in and of themselves. Each window is born of our monadic microcosms and that's all the context we can/should take into account. Yet, a decision made is symbolic of a contract made with regard to the subsequent chain of events that unfold, that we commit well and truly to participating.

This is my new favourite movie. I'm not saving up for a Nick and Norah type magical happily-ever-after, but I'm not throwing my heart out like meat to dogs either.


Where's Fluffy?

Are you sad that we missed it?
We didn't miss it. This is it. C'mon. You wanna go home?

I'm listening to: Rufio - Over It

Anti-gravity
Empty cavity

We are all monads!

The entities that are each of us, possess all properties true to every single chronological point, where the linear progression of time (its metric segmentation can, however, be granted) as well as mutual interaction (the impression of which is merely another sort of encrypted property) is but an illusion. Therefore, each of us is utterly self-contained  despite seeming correlations, and simple by virtue of the underlying unity characteristic of our form.

Within this metaphysical dimension of our being, we are simple substances.



Anything but the blatant proof,
Was your lips touching mine in the photobooth.

I'm listening to: Metric - Soft Rock Star

There are certain things I really can't stand sharing, and this (oh I couldn't tell you) happens to be one of them, so just GTFO KEEP YOUR PAWS TO YOURSELF AND PISS OFF THANK YOU VERY MUCH!




Climb the wall to make the sun rise in time,
But the night had already begun.

Travel through time
Who were you after you were mine?

I'm listening to: Jolie Holland - Sascha

He's going outside in the middle of the night with you
Tell me what I'm supposed to do
No I'm fine, I can go another time with you
But tell me: why would I want to?

 
 
I don't know who you are.
Or maybe I've just forgotten, momentarily.
But I do know you reside on the edge of this spinning universe as we know it.

Half-formed monsters?
These tear at the corners of your mind.
They're always struggling in vain against the confines of their iron-barred cell.

We feed them candy.
Sometimes they get really fat and lazy.
In slumber they're like dead things, but we can hear their steady breathing.

Don't try to tiptoe past them.
Do close your eyes so they don't see you.
You open Pandora's box by shaking letters and words out of unwritten books.

I think I remember you.
Not your name though, but that isn't important.

You live between the lines.

I'm listening to: Cursive - The Recluse

Oh please don't barrage me
with the questions
to all those ugly answers.



Felly showed me this today:



WHEN IS IT COMING TO THEATERS HERE??

I'm plain as paper.



"You're in my web now,
I've come to wrap you up tight
'til it's time to bite down."

I'm listening to: Deathcab For Cutie - Transatlanticism

12-7-90-56-67-34-45  90-90-78-23-67  34-12-67.

89'8  23-90  23-89-4-89  90-45  56-67-34-23-34.

23-67-67  56-67-34  67-34-90-90  12-8  89  23-56-89-90-90  78-23-89-7-56  56-67-89-23  0-89-34-4-34  90-45  23-67-89-56  23-34-4-45-34-56  4-90-34-34  45-45-90-8  56-67-12-56  0-89-34-4-34 90-45  23-67-89-56  0-34-45-23-90-7?

23-89-90-90  12-7-67-90-7-34  34-5-34-7  6-90-56-67-34-45  34-34-4-89-0-67-34-45-89-7-56  56-67-89-23?

89'8  12-45-45-12-89-34  7-90  90-7-34  34-5-34-7  56-89-5-34-23  12  34-12-8-7.

12-7-34  34-5-34-7  89-45  12-7-67-90-7-34  34-89-34,  89  56-67-89-7-89  89-56'23  4-90-90-23-34  56-90 89-8-0-90-23-23-89-6-90-34.

89'8  23-34-90-90  89-7-23-78-45-34-34,  67-34-56  89  23-89-23-67  89  4-90-78-90-34  6-34  0-45-90-5-34-7  23-45-90-7-56.

89  7-34-34-34  67-90-78  23-90  6-12-34-90-67  45-89-56-67-56  7-90-23.

23-90-7'56  67-90-87  56-34-90-90  8-34  67-90-78  78-7-34-34-45-23-56-12-7-34  34-5-34-45-67  0-89-34-4-34  90-45  4-45-12-0  56-67-12-56  90-34-12-5-34-23  8-67  8-90-78-56-67?



89  7-34-34-34  67-90-78  23-90  8-78-4-67  4-90-90-23-34-45.

I'm listening to: Beck - Lost Cause

Baby you're lost,
Baby you're lost,
Baby you're a lost cause.

 
 
It's a circle broken yet again.

For everything we've left behind and everything else we continue to share, only one thing is certain - that the passage of time is utterly impersonal. The moon and stars which look so stunningly pretty tonight seem to taunt us for the brevity and impermanence of human experience, for they are but onlookers of this cruel spectacle. The form is eternal blah blah blah; it hardly provides any comfort at this point.

~ (reason > emotion)

If anyone even tries, I swear I'll rip your throat out.