I'm listening to: Taking Back Sunday - Make Damn Sure

Tonight I said goodbye, but I should have said more.

Come home, 

I won't forget the times that we had
So please don't be a part of my past.

And we lay, we lay together just not
Too close, too close
How close is close enough?
We lay, we lay together just not
Too close, too close

I'M GONNA MAKE DAMN SURE
I JUST WANNA BREAK YOU DOWN SO BADLY
I JUST WANNA BREAK YOU DOWN SO BADLY
MAKE DAMN SURE
IN THE WORST WAY


I'm glad I came here with your pound of flesh. 

I'm listening to: Anberlin - Autobahn

A visitor at midday (before I forget anymore).

You weren't supposed to be here, and I had nothing to say to you. Whether it was how different you looked or that I recognized you nonetheless, I can't say which came as a greater shock. Your complexion, once alabaster, had become heavily freckled by some harsh climate, and your hair hung in matted locks. You don't belong here. You were once beautiful, but you'd been used up almost completely. The edges of your eyes were worn threadbare by the glaring sun, yet their color and depth mirrored that of the cloudless sky. That empty shell of a boy was filled with something else I couldn't define.

The residual force; that little bit of fight left in you, was compelling nonetheless. The urgency in your expression was so disturbingly intense and it shook me, yet I knew I shouldn't; couldn't, say anything despite the profound regret and inexplicable empathy I felt gnawing on my conscience. It's funny how you never said anything either. But two psyches overlapped, overturned, overwrote, like layer after layer of Russian dolls stacked into each other, and for a moment we understood each other perfectly: this meeting was contingent upon too many things that couldn't truly exist.

This understanding, on each other's behalf, bade us our farewells. And it all happened in a blink of the mind's eye, then everything was over before anything had begun, and there my memory fails me. I do know we parted in more ways than one, and not least because your parting gift was a question I can't stop asking myself - who are you?




I had a conversation with you at night
It's a little one sided but that's all right
I tell you in the kitchen about my day
You sit on the bed in the dark changing places
With the ghost that was there before you came
You've come to save my life again

I'm listening to: Midtown - Knew It All Along (Acoustic)

The scars inside have made you beautiful

Stop breathing for me.

Hello.

Hands down, this is the best day I can ever remember.

I'll always remember the sound of the stereo,
The dim of the soft lights,
The scent of your hair that you twirled in your fingers,
And the time on the clock when we realized it's so late,
And this walk that we shared together.

The streets were wet and the gate was locked, 

So I jumped it, and let you in.

And you stood at your door with your hands on my waist

And you kissed me like you meant it.

And I knew that you meant it,

That you meant it,
That you meant it,
And I knew,
That you meant it,
That you meant it.

I'm listening to: Buddy Holly - Maybe Baby

26TH AUGUST. IT'S YVONNE STRAHOVSKI (WHERE'S CHUCK??) AND IT'S SO FUNNY OMG I CAN'T WAIT!

I'm listening to: The New Pornographers - The Fake Headlines

'Cause I'm bored of hanging out, in your cold.



I wish there was an ultimate objective reality I could die to wake up to. I've said this about Descartes' dream argument, that the reason it's so difficult to tell you're dreaming when you're dreaming, is because the passage from wakefulness to sleep lacks a concrete demarcation as opposed to the jarring shock of awakening from a dream. I'm not trying to play blind skeptic here, but there is a rather pertinent point - that it's pretty damn near impossible to be sure what something is when you can only reasonably figure out (usually in retrospect) what it isn't/wasn't. Then they never make it home alive.

I'm listening to: Nerina Pallot - Halfway Home

I've got a quarter in my pocket of an apple left to eat:
It's a wonder that I'm standing on my own two feet.
In the shadow of a thousand veiled Victorian goodbyes
Jewels of litter come to greet me, and it stings my eyes.

I'm dying for episode 8 and the rest of the season to be out. It's not just the plot but the political and philosophical (especially existential) themes running through the seasons.

The last of True Blood from episode 7 finally enunciated quite patently a key issue at the heart of the season, if not the entire series. Russell Edgington, the 3000 year-old vampire king of Mississippi, declared that the only law to abide by is that of Nature's; of the survival of the fittest, and not some artificial social construct laid down by traditional authority (i.e. the Magister and his precedents). The reason for his belief is that conventional legal structures (governing vampiric conduct) were conceived to appease humans' fears, but these hold back the development of vampires as the master race, which is particularly irksome because he cannot understand how human beings are stupid enough to destroy their own living habitat and yet claim a natural right to the world. 

He's obviously over his head in arrogance, but it's hard to dismiss his opinions just like that. First off, it isn't very clear which race - human or vampiric - Nature favours in the first place, since vampires are after all human beings risen from the dead, though the other part of their origin is anything but human. But the fact that all vampires had to be human once, and that they also waited till lately to 'come out of the closet', favours human beings as having the natural right. Then again, vampires are physically, physiologically and psychologically superior to human beings, which counters that claim on a different level but also makes it hard to draw a reasonable comparison when both operate by different criteria (defining Nature). On the other hand, it's interesting to note how human standards are always the basis for comparison.

And then, there are also Weres, Shapeshifters, Fairies (to come), Maenads, and goodness knows what else. Each and every one of these have a human 'component' to their being, in the sense that they take on human forms at least some of the time. This does not indicate that human beings are therefore the master race; it could be a functionary and practical (plainly obvious how) evolutionary (?) adaptation, but it raises the question of why human beings have been left to believe, since the dawn of time till recently, that they are the only evolutionarily sophisticated species inhabiting the earth. That, however, for a contemporary science-fiction writer like Charlaine Harris, is only at her discretion. I guess we can just wait and see (since human beings' fear = being subjected to human standards = doesn't seem plausible as a real reason), and until more light has been thrown on the subject, the preceding questions and issues cannot be satisfactorily addressed, which is why 

I. need. more. True. Blood. And just the shows. I don't really want the books, sorry. 

And now, I'm halfway home, 

I'm at the corner of our street,
Would you like to come and meet me?

I'm listening to: Kate Bush - Running Up That Hill

You don't want to hurt me
But see how deep the bullet lies
Unaware I'm tearing you asunder
Oh, there is thunder in our hearts

Is there so much hate for the ones we love?
Tell me we both matter; don't we?
You, it's you and me
It's you and me, you won't be unhappy

And if I only could, I'd make a deal with God
And I'd get him to swap our places
Be running up that road
Be running up that hill
Be running up that building



You're crazy adorable, but only God knows how much I hate you sometimes.

I'm listening to: Blondie - Heart of Glass

Lost inside
Adorable illusion and I cannot hide
I'm the one you're using, please don't push me aside
We could've made it cruising, yeah.

Funny how the human psyche works. You can build defenses all around to protect some treasured object from every conceivable external threat, but its eventual destruction/losing its value is sometimes internally effected. Does that in any way really negate your loss (e.g. a change of heart => zero heartbreak)? In the greater scheme of things, it might not matter much, but it's troubling just the same. 

It's not like I'm not enjoying myself at all, but I'm so exhausted; I can hardly believe that I'm actually dying (more than as a figure of speech) for school to start. Bleargh. And here we go again. 

I feel so awfully human.