keep coming up with love

i couldn't really get into that end of the year mood this year--could be of the lingering warmth of the weather, or the craziness of the scholarly work over the last month. it's been a bit hazy and all, but i woke up real peaceful and slightly rested today so i thought i'd give it a go.

last night a friend of mine said my desire of moving on with everything came from a stream of positivity. which in itself partly true, but i realized it had more to do with not planning ahead. me being a time-obsessive person dividing my hours and days according to tasks if i had to and all--i am the least furutre-driven person in the world. i tend to do things without considering the bad consequences. i told him "i don't want thinking about what's to come to limit how i behave--if bad things turn up then you deal with them afterwards"--so this is kinda pointless sitting here talking about an upcoming year for me.

so i'll skip all the gooey may you have a lovely year and whatnot. life doesn't move by days or years it moves by love--and i don't mean to say that in a cheesy way--i mean love at what you do at who you're with at what you believe in--which is rarely found--so don't mind the numbers on the calender flowing fast--they don't really mean that much. strive to make a life for yourself in beauty and inspiration and joyfullness. there's a glow to the people who do what they want to do with their lives--be one of those people. find things love them and love them blindly make them flow through your veins and lose yourself in them--feel that very string within your stomach tremble and waves within rise--i don't know--i see all these lovely people worried about a future--doing all these things that when they were kids they spoke of never doing--which you should pay attention to by the way--when you're a kid you're as free as a streetpainter you dream all you want--and they all lose focus of themselves--they don't think of finding something they love but rather something they're good at.

don't be one of those people. i beg you, do not be one of those people.

love art. love music. love creation. there is nothing like the sound of an instrument right in front of your eyes. or better yet--you already either love those things or you don't. if you do--then find as many as you can, consume them, burn them, swallow them. i don't know--just if your heart beats that way, then do not let it skip a beat. songs and words and poems and stories. do not waste them, do not hurry them into your life. take their time. think of them. cherish them.

do not yield to others. do not become a liar. do not assume you're loved--you are not as often loved as you think. be honest to yourself, don't expect affections of people you no longer have affections for. understand your desolation and cherish it. try not to hurt your parents for as much as you can. learn to love your roots, but grow tall towards the sky.

listen to good songs. they'll do things to you you've never dreamed of. hear good stories. you'll find yourself in each one.

don't laugh when someone speaks to you of love.

i don't know, there are things that pop into my head. truth is no two people are similar. consider this me talking to me. and before i take off--here's a lovely song. it's in fact a queen/bowie masterpiece but i though this cover was pretty decent. chaplin has a tone very similar to mercury's. but you definetly do miss the wonderful bowie in it. still, it's a beautiful song and very appropriate to the general theme of an upcoming year.



happy new year, everyone.

cheers.

ps: i just checked out the stat section of my blog and i saw overwievs by people in all these amazing countries like tunisia and luxemburg and russia and everywhere else. if you do see this, please do leave a comment.

carey

you say waiting on a bus stop for an hour and a half is a waste of time i say it's just enough time to brush off your entire beatles archive. the cold was unfortunate, though.

long long day tomorrow.

...

ah my dear ezra, you do me no good.

coloring

"Ideas are colored by what they are dipped in."

E.P

anyway you look at this

my obsessive dependency on music is troubling, i do have to say.

anywho--i do apologize that this is like the 789th keane video i put on here. but when a band/a man/a woman steals my heart through music i get obsessed with them, i listen to them day and night, i 'suck out all the marrow of life' and i truly fall in love. now that sounds funny, i know, but i do. and i love dearly all my lovers. and keane--i think this keane thing will last a little longer--so bear with me.

...

i don't get it--if you tell someone you're frightened, why do they assume you're lying?

so many sinking

there's a twitching pain down at my elbow. i've been carrying stuff and all, and lack of any free time, strutting down on the streets, i'm beat up physically and aching for some sleep.

probably cause i'm tired, i have this tendency right now to see things on the down side. but truth is it's been all right. last night was a bit of a hassle. but it gave me a few laughs, and more importantly a wise few minutes of conversation with a dear friend about a man's 'win set' and other stuff.

another old friend told me last night of other things that got me to think about confidence and real turthfullness. i made it a mission to ban myself from using the word 'honesty' in the upcoming days. i think the more you say it the less real it becomes.

i have a weary headache.

and a lot of weird thoughts about endings and misery and dylan.

just listten to this. it gives one peace.

high on the bell tower

i have to soon get up and get ready to go out this very greyish saturday night. truth is i would have prefered joyca and coffee but i think i can go through a few hours of good conversation. if it'll be good, that is. dynamics are getting all dizzy.

if nothing else, i'll see a few friendly faces. and that's all we should ask of people--just to be a friendly face. everything else gets tangled up in insincerity and human-ness.

through this beautiful scene

there is an old zeppelin masterpiece that speaks of the best thing being smiling to someone's who's blue--sad how easily inflicting anger becomes--or lack of anger, or anything else for that matter. all i hear (and witness) these days is tension tension and more tension. i'm not saying let's all go peace love and music--for contradictions and confrontations are poetic if honesty is involved--but no need to get boring now.

the other day i thought to myself how sad it must be that such little thoughts of indifference or hate can limit one's behaviour. i never let mine get trumped by it. i either went head down in flames or just offered that smile--because sometimes you don't have to be friends with people, you don't have to necessary like them or love them, but you can offer a smile. if not, that must be a sad word to live in.

overemphasizing never helps. look down upon your confusion your repulsion. truth is, very little that people care about what you think of them. live you affections in roars of oceans--the rest--speck of sand.

hopes and fears

the only way you get along with people is if you love the same. i don't mean the amounr or the method or the expression--i mean the way you love--the act in itself--if you wanna share anything valuable in this life with anyone, you should do the act of loving similarly.

sad when you notice that people you spent years with will never be people you'll spend years with because you don't love the same

but i'm actually relatively happy these days. besides life's real-life shitholes,emotionally i'm in a happy place. for the rest, i just ignore.

...

i don't know why i waste my time
getting hung up about the things you said
when i open my eyes it's a lovely day

and it's a lovely day

this sparked a story last night. i'm waiting for another to spark an ending.

...

i just got this link to this beautiful set of pictures that were taken in russia over a hundred years ago--there are many lovely ones--but this one i think truly captures the spirit of that dostoyevskian valya...

...

"Like him was I, these sloping shoulders, this gracelessness. My childhood bends beside me. Too far for me to lay a hand there once or lightly. Mine is far and his secret as our eyes. Secrets, silent, stony sit in the dark places of both our hearts: secrets weary of their tyranny: tyrants willing to be dethroned."

J.J.

but you haven't told me anything

now i've seen some great shows but i do have to say the last time i watched so many great performances in one single show was the 87 (i think) roxy show of guns'n roses.

love the lyrics to this one.

chimes of freedom

"forget your underwear we're free"

hang in there the last original spirit on earth.

if it eases you know

"O how unlike
To that first naked glory."

John Milton - Paradise Lost

oh yes it has happened--after much dragging (school makes it harder to enjoy all these lovely things about life)--i am done with the very beautiful yet intense Paradise Lost. Which is kinda artful in itself--because i always get this bitter sweet feeling at the end of every book--after dragging it all around god's green earth--after ditching classses and smiling at the rain under busstops with my lovely companions its always sad to finally put them up on a bookshelf after taking one last peak at their worn out pages (and boy do i wear those pages out). even sadder is when i have to place them on a pile on unrelated mysteries in the library so that some guy can push it away on a cart and place it back from when i had first taken it out of

but this time it wasn't entirely devastating and heartbreaking--for i met up with another friend--whose weary, stone like face met me on a faded green irish morning by the stairs holding out a hand not encouragingly but more accepting saying if you must... and i ran down defying his perfectness and began trailing around him like a child let loose for a day trapped indoors--dedalus and i have found that we both have changed and now we both have stories to tell. i started to listen to his this morning and have i missed him--you have no idea.

besides that--upon discovering the settlement of an old attachment within--a goodbye long given without me noticing--i realized everything's doomed for death and destruction anyhow--but we should be gentle with people--and honest--for where honesty reigns unfairness rarely comes up and hearts remain intact (even when they are not so they still accept the truth and learn to move on)--anger and hatret is unnerving and such a shame--so i realized today that you should all put it out there to ensure a peaceful ending from the get go--for no matter how you love someone you will one day realize you are no longer that dependent you are no longer attached--and that will only be peaceful if you can actually understand that you have outgrown it and it has outgrown itself--and that requires honesty in itself anyhow

and that i figured out today having silently waited for the youthful blush to leave me face only to know that all has been done and settled. and i have outdone the feeling itself. it was a beautiful ending. a brave one. a friendly one. a gentle one only for i do not lie to people. only for i know myself. and myself knows within time only what within time you can know

so tomorrow comes and the sun shines and i wear out stephen with my childish manners and my incapacity to hold back my affections. and he so does to me with the poetic beauty that joyce had placed in him

vale!

born sneerer

i should study tomorrow morning but i have plans to meet up with an old friend--stephen dedalus, that is.

such a nice time

i have this gigantic amount of love within and it feels so good--after such a long time of misconceptions--that i can just let it fly free.

it's like waking up to a brand new day.

justice for julian.

"I'm with you in Rockland
where your condition has become serious and is reported on the radio

I'm with you in Rockland
where the faculties of the skull no longer admit the worms of the senses..."

(A.G. -- Howl)

who was the one that robbed my time

oh dear--there is no spontaneity left in this world. you can not do anything by heart. you have to plan and program and slowly but surely it kills the spark. nobody arranged summer of love--where is the feeling driving all these causes and goals? there is none. there are men in suits counting up members and doing updates regularly on websites.

close the door lightly when you go

So last thursday I stumbled upon something rather lovely—after some much needed one on one with the girl with curls, some munching on sushi and shrimpy stuff—we wondered into that lovely store of books/magazines/dvds/music and every other crap you need (including a freakish notebook that cost about 30 bucks, which seriously made me doubt some people’s sanity). i fell in love instantly with the time cover of assange—my recent fascination and possibly the last remaining unique spirit and certainly the other exciting persona of my day and age—but soon I got sidetracked from my supposed future of politics to my actual love of life. there he was a 20 some year old dylan with “baby fat” and two piercing “robin’s eggs” staring right at me I pretended to be not willing to pay so much to read about a man whom I already know too well (hypothetically, at least) but my coolness lasted less than 5 seconds. grabbed that magazine like a mad person and paid within two seconds.

then we strolled down for some coffee with my lovely companion and spent some more time together. i soon parted for the bus stop. then swallowed down a few pages while waiting for the bus to take off—intentionally avoiding the dylan piece until my best of terms were prepared—coffee, that is, and good appropriate music. we stared at each other with the picture dylan all the way. he had a snarly yet affectionate attitude. do not ask me how that works—it just does.

not the magazine has this lovely addition—a mixed cd of some great late 50s and early 60s tunes—with the likes of Baez, Van Ronk, John Lee Hooker, Seeger and such—even a poem by ginsberg. dylan’s scene—it aims to recreate the hipster, folksy, inspirational era that shaped dylan in the early days. anywho so i did come home made the coffee and put it on and finally indulged myself in the dylan piece—written by notorious wilentz.

the article’s fun—not entirely groundbreaking, you know, after some time you just kinda guess everything that can be said about dylan being the awkward goofy newcomer blooming into first the poet prophet then the rock star phenomenon. it has a few good comments from izzy young-he writes about the famous folkcenter that he ran back then. he talks about the overexcited dylan and the van ronk godliness.

but the album—now that’s a gem. there is nothing more beautiful than sipping your coffee while joan baez sings heavenly by your side—or looking up instinctively when dave van ronk comes up and your excitement and love is just too obvious to hide that you end up smiling to yourself. or listening to the Clancy Brothers thinking about the sweet liam—and wrapping all that up with a 9 minute ginsberg rant. and there are a few unfamiliar beauties that i am now very happy to be acquainted with—one that i believe is too perfect to not be posted here—or familiar names under unfamiliar tunes—though i have heard and read and loved much about the legendary pete seeger i actually never had listened to we shall overcome.

anywho—it’s been all greenwich over here at my end of the corner for the last two days. even revisited my dylans only to find out how much i missed them—then my van ronk’s—and some others. i feel the dusty basement poetry readings and baskets being passed around while young crazy new fresh flows through the stage under different shapes—i got to think of the old titans of my heard—kerouac, ginsberg, cassady—the road, the vanity, the pathway, the angelness and the hellish crazy—then of the lovely dylan and making peace with his loveliness despite your and his resistance—and towards the newer influences—it’s been a lovely couple of days—

it’s way way past midnight. i should wrap this up. and this is perfect for wrapping ups:

http://www.divshare.com/download/13466720-896

ps: sadly, this is the only way i can put it up. i searched like a maniac ravaged through youtube and various sides but could not find anything else. please do go through the trouble--it will be worth it. such a lovely tune. let it in.

hang your head

i actually have so much to tell--with my dylan's scene cd on and my hot tea all steamin'--but some work first. then i'll have loads to talk about.

his back pages

i know, i know. it is long. but so... so, you know.

Advice For Geraldine On Her Miscellaneous Birthday
Poem by Bob Dylan

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Stay in line. stay in step. people
are afraid of someone who is not
in step with them. it makes them
look foolish t' themselves for
being in step. it might even
cross their minds that they themselves
are in the wrong step. do not run
nor cross the red line. if you go
too far out in any direction, they
will lose sight of you. they'll feel
threatened. thinking that they are
not a part of something that they
saw go past them, they'll feel
something's going on up there that
they don't know about. revenge
will set in. they will start thinking
of how t' get rid of you. act
mannerly towards them. if you don't,
they will take it personal. as you
come directly in contact face t' face
do not make it a secret of how
much you need them. if they sense
that you have no need for them,
the first thing they will do is
try t' make you need them. if
this doesn't work, they will tell
you of how much they don't need
you. if you do not show any sadness
at a remark such as this, they
will immediately tell other people
of how much they don't need you.
your name will begin t' come up
in circles where people gather
to tell about all the people they
don't need. you will begin t' get
famous this way. this, though, will
only get the people who you don't need
in the first place
all the more madder.
you will become
a whole topic of conversation.
needless t' say, these people
who don't need you will start
hating themselves for needing t' talk
about you. then you yourself will
start hating yourself for causing so
much hate. as you can see, it will
all end in one great gunburst.
never trust a cop in a raincoat.
when asked t' define yourself exactly,
say you are an exact mathematician.
do not say or do anything that
he who standing in front of you
watching cannot understand, he will
feel you know something he
doesn't. he will react with blinding
speed and write your name down.
talk on his terms. if his terms
are old-fashioned an' you've
passed that stage all the more easier
t' get back there. say what he
can understand clearly. say it simple
t' keep your tongue out of your
cheek. after he hears you, he can
label you good or bad. anyone will
do. t' some people, there is only
good an' bad. in any case, it will
make him feel somewhat important.
it is better t' stay away from
these people. be careful of
enthusiasm...it is all temporary
an' don't let it sway you. when asked
if you go t' church, always answer
yes, never look at your shoes. when
asked you you think of gene autrey
singing of hard rains gonna fall say
that nobody can sing it as good as
peter, paul and mary. at the mention
of the president's name, eat a pint of
yogurt an' go t' sleep early...when
asked if you're a communist, sing
america the beautiful in an
italian accent. beat up nearest
street cleaner. if by any
chance you're caught naked in a
parked car, quick turn the radio on
full blast an' pretend
that you're driving. never leave
the house without a jar of peanut
butter. do not wear
matched socks. when asked to do 100
pushups always smoke a pound
of deodorant beforehand.
when asked if you're a capitalist, rip
open your shirt, sing buddy can
you spare a dime with your
right foot forward an' proceed t'
chew up a dollar bill.
do not sign any dotted line. do not
fall in trap of criticizing people
who do nothing else but criticize.
do Not create anything. it will be
misinterpreted. it will not change.
it will follow you the
rest of your life. when asked what you
do for a living say you laugh for
a living. be suspicious of people
who say that if you are not nice
t' them, they will commit suicide.
when asked if you care about
the world's problems, look deeply
into the eyes of he that asks
you, he will not ask you again. when
asked if you've spent time in jail,
announce proudly that some of your
best friends've asked you that.
beware of bathroom walls that've not
been written on. when told t' look at
yourself...never look. when asked
t' give your real name...never give it.

my back pages

"Dilara, you must become a writer. I'm just so impressed with how good you are at writing dialogue and being creative."

i spent almost 2 hours looking for a worn out piece of paper--my crusade back then--a short story assignment about a guy and ants--a 7th grade moment--and the first time i thought this is it. this will be my life. and the first time i was actually encouraged for it--by those few words in the beginning written on little purple pieces of paper by my then mentor and english teacher--two little pieces of paper that made me cry my heart out tonight. i don't know why. they just did.

justice for julian.

Arthur Dexter Bradley said, “I’m really not sure”
Cops said, “A poor boy like you could use a break
We got you for the motel job and we’re talkin’ to your friend Bello
Now you don’t wanta have to go back to jail, be a nice fellow
You’ll be doin’ society a favor
That sonofabitch is brave and gettin’ braver
We want to put his ass in stir
We want to pin this triple murder on him
He ain’t no Gentleman Jim”

(Hurricane-Bob Dylan,Desire)

more on 8th of December

today is a mysterious one--half life, half death. i celebrate the life and shall deny the death. you too, john--in my mind, and in my heart.

8th of December

happy birthday, my angel.

no way out

i sincerely wanted to find a live performance for this but failed! still, i could not have let it go unnoticed (not that jack white ever could)

...

i'm tellin you man, this whole town is f****d up.

...

i just read that somebody described tom chaplin as an "overgrown cherub". the greatest description ever.

...

i just read that somebody described tom chapling as an "overgrown cherub". the greatest description ever.

monday morning

oh my, these wikileaks documents are quite poetic in nature, I must say. Some lovely uses of words turn up once in a while. Quite impressive.

i promise to go under it

ah my loving and patient zimmerman, who would have calmed me down if it wasn't for you.

little words are heavy

ah and it finally happened. all that crash and crash and crash finally sparked the flame to burn.

my downward spiral began giving unpleasant fruits of which i never though was possible--so much for believing in my invincibility--and tonight i faced the cold hard fact of failure. a grave that you dig yourself--there is a beautiful saying in turkish that comes down to "you don't cry if you fall on your own" and that i knew today storming from a classroom worrying about where i was bleeding and more importantly why i was bleeding and i saw then--end of the tunnel--it all goes helldown from here and it makes you smile to think so--for you don't believe that evil and misgiving and bad consequences are ever true you always think you'll dodge the bullet when push comes to shove--so actually taking a hit on the side makes you feel as if you exist on some unreal russian novel full of fire and flames

the odd thing comes a second after. you think you're flashing red you think your arms are swinging all over the place you think you're literally burning up and the people around you don't even notice. you think you're going down so fast that it is impossible to not see 'here i am' you say 'look i'm drowning' but it's amazing how little can be noticed and even littler believed in. not that others are evil or ignoring it's just we happen to see ourselves in such large shapes and stories where the truth is that we're all bleak spots of pain spattered all over the place

so what do you do? you seek comfort in the places you're least likely to get it. i think it's just a way of making everything worse just to be denied you ask just so that another scratch and another one it's such a cliche to say it but you do feel alive. for when good is gained you fear of losing it you fear of being mistaken you fear of being lied to but bad bad just comes down and strikes fast and you can not doubt it and more importantly deep down you don't really believe it. it all feels like a massive play. like a game. scorn and frown and drown.

you kinda wish it all gets worse. i don't know why. you do. it's insane and immature and childish but once you lose your balance you just wanna plunge down head over no hesitation.

doesn't mean you're unafraid. sad part is i have in time i guess i made people believe there was something insincere about me. for if you have to try to make someone believe you're frigthtened there is no real friendship no real love there. it's like we all try to prove someone else's troubles wrong. whethere it is because we believe ours are greater or because ours are worth crap--i do not know. and i got back home today to this sweet loving hole in the world that will swallow me down sooner or later--but all seemed insignificant. then had a long chat with my bestie.

then watched beautiful keane performances. now i finally figured out what it was about that specific band that just hooked me on so passionetely and it's the honesty in chaplin's voice then just grabs you. it's beautiful--not extraordinary but extraordinarily beautiful--but more importantly it's the most honest thing i've heard in my life. you can't argue against it. it just says what it should and you know that's how it is. it pulls out all these misconceptions and mistakes and tells you about them. it won't throw'em at you but it tells you simply and straightforward and one by one. slowly. realistically. not to mention that there are some great lyrics in between the lines. the lovers are losing is one of the best things i've heard in a while.

anywho plans for tomorrow--sleep, for starters. wikileaks should be a part of it--darn midterm. have to go buy boots (speaking of-a friend of mine upon seeing me today declared "sobered up yet?"). then who knows--who knows anything--

i have this image in my head all the time--this image of diving into the water. a bath tub a pool a lake a friggin ocean. doesn't matter. i just see myself floating with the water cool and easy and everything further down the line.

enjoy--



i know i've put this song before. it's an amazing song anyhow but this performance is so poetic that i had to put it up.



this one i put 1)that lead is adorable 2)the lyrics are worthy of mentioning

enough rambling already--oh there is nothing like the midnight to unravel my tongue

easy lies

"Only the mask!
The mask of worn scarlet,
there is only the mask!"

F.G.L.

is it only me or am i the only one willing to accept?

clinging to the wreckage...

...till i got the message.