I'm listening to: Camera Obscura - Let's Get Out of This Country

I'm just a shell, because I misplaced my insides. I don't know where I left them, or if I'm supposed/going to ever find them. Nobody knows this, and I'm alone.

I feel so dead, empty, and uninspired. What would it mean, getting used to being this incomplete?

I could be a real person, I think.

I'm listening to: Black Sabbath - Changes

I have trouble getting out of bed in the morning. It's not because I'm still sleepy.

I'm listening to: Modest Mouse - Ocean Breathes Salty

Well that is that and this is this

You tell me what you want and I'll tell you what you get:
You get away from me, you get away from me.
Collected my belongings and I left the jail
Well thanks for the time, I needed to think a spell
I had to think awhile, I had to think awhile.

The ocean breathes salty, won't you carry it in?
In your head, in your mouth, in your soul.
And maybe we'll get lucky and we'll both grow old
Well, I don't know, I don't know, I don't know; I hope so.

Well, that is that and this is this
Will you tell me what you saw, and I'll tell you what you missed,
When the ocean met the sky.
You missed when time and life shook hands and said goodbye;
When the earth folded in on itself, and said, 

"Good luck, for your sake I hope heaven and hell
Are really there, but I wouldn't hold my breath."
You wasted life, why wouldn't you waste death?
You wasted life, why wouldn't you waste death?

The ocean breathes salty, won't you carry it in?
In your head, in your mouth, in your soul.
The more we move ahead, the more we're stuck in rewind
Well, I don't mind, I don't mind; how the hell could I mind? 



When states of mind behave as measures of time.

I'm listening to: Train - Drops of Jupiter

The last time I went back there was about a year ago, but today's visit was exceptionally different, for certain obvious reasons and other less apparent ones. It was so ridiculously surreal; I felt a mixture of dread, shock, and a strange urge to laugh in reaction to all that absurdity - it was hopelessly infectious and practically seeping into my skin; I'm not even exaggerating, that's exactly how uncomfortable it felt. Is it possible to revisit the past and relive old memories? Persons, things, and places rarely if ever stay constant, so what you think you remember can never quite match current reality. 

I don't think it's as trivial as it sounds, because human emotion (I think) inevitably draws for us associations between past and present states of the same entity. The combined effect is jarring and so painfully disconcerting. How can something feel so familiar and yet so alien at the same time? How do we reconcile memories (the familiar) with current reality (the unfamiliar); and how do each/both of these relate to the past? I'm completely baffled, though I know it doesn't help that I'm not expressing myself as clearly as I'd like, and I also feel slightly embarrassed because I'm also wondering who would give him/herself such a hard time over something like this. 

It was a striking feeling - the result of something my mind and my heart couldn't work out between themselves - how much of our personal experience is based on our environment vs. our thoughts, or, in what proportions do internal and external influences affect the human experience? And why haven't I been troubled by these questions earlier? Are the answers too glaringly obvious or does all this really mean something? This is also why I was so shaken hearing that cover of this song; an odd combination of joy, sadness, regret, nostalgia, thankfulness, fear, deja vu, and a whole bunch of other things. 

How much has changed, and how much more will change?

Tell me, did the wind sweep you off your feet?
Did you finally get the chance to dance along the light of day
And head back to the milky way?
And tell me, did Venus blow your mind?
Was it everything you wanted to find
And did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there?

I'm listening to: Sleeping Beauty - Once Upon A Dream

I know you, 
I walked with you once upon a dream.
I know you,
The gleam in your eyes is so familiar a gleam.
Yes, I know it's true
That visions are seldom all they seem.
But if I know you, I know what you'll do -
You'll love me at once,
The way you did once upon a dream.

I'm listening to: Tears for Fears - Head Over Heels

I wanted to be with you alone and talk about the weather,
But traditions I can trace against the child in your face won't escape my attention.


It's hard to be a man when there's a gun in your hand.

I'm listening to: U2 - Stuck in a Moment

And you can never get enough
Of what you don't really need now
My, oh my

You've got to get yourself together
You've got stuck in a moment and you can't get out of it
Oh love, look at you now
You've got yourself stuck in a moment and you can't get out of it
Oh lord, look at you now
You've got yourself stuck in a moment and you cant get out of it

And if the night runs over
And if the day won't last
And if your way should falter, along this stony pass

It's just a moment
This time will pass



Yeah; well, why's that easier to say than to believe? I've thought about saying goodbye because I get so tired, and it's alarming. It always is, though I'd like to think I have more substance than that and I've long outgrown this childishness, but exhaustion lapses into hopelessness, which gives way to a desperate re-examination of previously discarded options, and finally, a sombre recognition of this excruciatingly tortuous stasis - born of a ridiculous (self-imposed?) incapacity to induce decisive change. Fuck it. So I'll just continue to stand and wait, while praying that whatever it is I'm anticipating is in fact heading my way. Yes, it's all in my head. 

Bless us
You're swimming, and I'm running
You're driving, and I'm cycling
Even when you're flying, and I'm sailing
We're always moving together in parallel 
Though we don't always see it

And... I'm back on Blogger. I feel retarded trying (in vain) to blog properly on Tumblr - there's too much cool stuff there I can hardly think on my own. Ha.

I'm listening to: Human League - Together in Electric Dreams

We part at the Tom Hansen complex; the endless and exhausting rehearsal of Expectation vs. Reality. 

I bid a very fond farewell to Blogger; I'll be moving to Tumblr (eventually - though I won't be posting here anymore) just because connectivity is so much easier there. In a sense, Across the Universe will survive since there is some kind of psychological continuity (haha), but it won't be the same, and just as well; because it ends along with the chapter it documents.

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.

I'm listening to: Keane - We Might As Well Be Strangers

Hello Mister,
You set my eyes on fire. 

I'm listening to: Plain White T's - Anything (Acoustic)

Swirling shades of glue - grey, blue
The Rottweiler vanishes along the corner
Bringing, leaving,
A meandering stench of iron that stretches
Its long trail across millenia of groveling and writhing in
The Dirt dyed colors of strange languages -
Those lost to la mer, that take its hand to spin and dance in frozen breezes.
Petty charms in a dollar-store snowglobe, which
Sparkle is caught and mirrored only in the light of an
Unopened eye.

I think I'm addicted to Salad Fingers.

"Do you not like my mouth-words?"

Help.

I'm listening to: A Rocket From the Moon - Forever and Always

I feel bad. I don't think it constitutes a failure to recognize one's own imperfections but, on the contrary, represents a veiled assertion of some compounded form thereof. Honestly. I thought about it and that's the furthest I got, but hell, it doesn't make it any less nauseating.

What it is to be up against the wall.

The observer has a tough job. Both desire and its antithetic manifestation, born of the same pernicious spawn; - how do they not fight each other to death and kill their bearer in the process?

Hello, I haven't seen you in awhile. I'm sorry I ever decided to throw you away! You looked much better in real life too. I miss you!

I'm listening to: Lucie Silvas - Breathe In

"Please get out. I'm sorry, I'm sick of your face, even more than the stupid things we do and talk about all the time." 






Say hi to Frank Bunny. The Manipulated Dead are space-time-travelers we want never to meet. They don't even make logical sense; the possibility of their existence is scary enough on its own account. Frank Bunny (not Frank) symbolizes the engendering of a fusion between fragmented universes and the anomalous, almost paradoxical nature of such an event, yet his Purpose for being is never veritably unmasked. He's also real even if he isn't. We don't know exactly what he is, but he is creepy - for more reasons than we'd care to uncover.



Don't analyse, don't analyse
Don't go that way
Don't lead that way
That would paralyse your evolution.

I'm listening to: The Temper Trap - Sweet Disposition

Is it the archetype? 

Or the distinct manifestation?



It huddles in the littlest corners and thinks nobody knows, just because it doesn't look anyone else in the eye. But it turns up all over the place anyway, taking on the strangest forms. How do you stop staring? 






So stay there
Because I'll be coming over

And while our blood's still young
It's so young; it runs

And we won't stop until it's over
Won't stop to surrender

I'm listening to: The Format - The First Single (You Know Me)

What's the point in going 'round when it's a straight line, baby, a straight, straight line?





IT'S BEEN SIX YEARS SINCE I LAST HEARD THIS AND I'M IN LOVE ALL OVER AGAIN!

It's the kind of genius indie music births once in awhile (quite a long while ago to be exact); the infectious beat and melody against old-school emo lyrics are a killer combination, and the form/structure of the song is perfect (like having a double-scoop ice cream cone with toppings, not a measly naked single scoop or a nausea-inducing swimming pool of a giant mutant sundae). The energy sends your head spinning before it winds down to a lovely end - and your head's still spinning and you can't stop listening to it over and over again for the same sugar rush. This is really good stuff worth the rediscovery, no thanks to those apocalyptic software crashes. 

I'm listening to: The Rescues - My Heart With You

Deathcab's 'I Will Follow You Into the Dark' has been so overplayed it's hard sometimes to remember ever liking it much, but I happened to chance upon it again today and the song took on an unexpected new meaning. 

But I'll be close behind
I'll follow you into the dark

Just our hands clasped so tight
Waiting for the hint of a spark

These bits especially. Oddly enough, it brought to mind a dream/nightmare from a few days back. It was about zombies and literally playing to survive. There, I've said it. It's really kinda stupid and I'm not going into specifics, but associating the dream with the song made something strikingly clear and suddenly everything fell into place. The associations are scarily apparent - in a big way. It's a semi-repressed thought half-deliberately (it seems) come to light, and although I still don't know exactly what I want, I sure as hell know what I don't want. That said, it's not uncomplicated, either. But this acute clarity, albeit on a very, very small scale, is enough to put my mind at ease, even when it doesn't do squat for suggesting any further/future course of action. It's nice to know what you didn't know you knew, never mind how troublesome that could become. Almost. 

Waited a hundred years to see your face,
And I would wait a hundred more
If only to be near you,
To have you and to hear you.

Isn't that what time is for?

Should our fire turn to dark,
Take my heart with you.

I'm listening to: Simon and Garfunkel - Bookends

"What always happens - life." - Summer Finn, (500) Days of Summer

It's hard to properly relish the present without feeling some bittersweet tinge to it, knowing times both good and bad will eventually pass us by. The traces they leave behind aren't always pleasant either, but all the same we cling to these for dear life, and we hate with a vengeance what we can't let go of. What lies ahead is never as bloody scary (think Frank Bunny) as the prospect, because we have no choice but to constantly approach the future at some mysterious speed beyond our comprehension, much less control. That said, we haven't got a choice, and that's all we need to keep going. The past needs to be buried before it turns putrid. I can't do anything about what happened, but I can help you do that - if you'll let me. 

Standing on the edge of morning, 

Scent of sex and New Found Glory 

Playing as she's pulling back her hair. 

(Evening twilight on Hipstamatic: John Smith lens and Pistil film)

I'm listening to: Regina Spektor - Us

Rummaging for answers in the pages

We're living in a den of thieves

And it's contagious

And it's contag - uh - uh - us.

God, it's so fucking depressing. 

I'm listening to: Black Lips - Bad Kids

It might be interesting to note that Ralph Wiggum wrote and submitted a paper on the Block Universe Conception of Time for a metaphysics class, just yesterday.

I'm listening to: Carla Bruni - Quelqu'un M'a Dit

I love these toy camera photos.  

On me dit que nos vies ne valent pas grand chose
Elles passent en un instant comme fanent les roses
On me dit que le temps qui glisse est un salaud
Que de nos chagrins il s'en fait des manteaux
Pourtant quelqu'un m'a dit




Que tu m'aimais encore

C'est quelqu'un qui m'a dit que tu m'aimais encore
Serais ce possible alors?

On me dit que le destin se moque bien de nous
Qu'il ne nous donne rien et qu'il nous promet tout
Parais qu'le bonheur est à portée de main,
Alors on tend la main et on se retrouve fou
Pourtant quelqu'un m'a dit

Que tu m'aimais encore

C'est quelqu'un qui m'a dit que tu m'aimais encore
Serais ce possible alors?

 

Mais qui est ce qui m'a dit que toujours tu m'aimais?
Je ne me souviens plus c'était tard dans la nuit,
J'entend encore la voix, mais je ne vois plus les traits
"Il vous aime, c'est secret, lui dites pas que j'vous l'ai dit"
Tu vois quelqu'un m'a dit

Que tu m'aimais encore, me l'a t'on vraiment dit
Que tu m'aimais encore, serais ce possible alors?

I'm listening to: Meaghan Smith - Here Comes Your Man

"I thought I'd be okay on my own."





Outside there's a box car waiting
Outside the family store
Out by the fire breathing
Outside we wait 'til face turns blue

I know the nervous walking
I know the dirty beard hangs
Out by the box car waiting
Take me away to nowhere plains

There is a wait so long (so long, so long)
You'll never wait so long

Here comes your man
Here comes your man
Here comes your man

Here comes your man