Friday, January 04, 2008

My love for you is real

the story of my life >>

so you're never gonna leave
so i'm never gonna leave
but i'm proud to say
that i've got us beat

and i'm never gonna leave
and you're never gonna leave
but you're never gonna love me
like i need

thao nguyen - "beat (health, life and fire)"
[finally- a hip, asian, indie songstress!]

but. i refuse to languish definitely

Wednesday, January 02, 2008

I think your bruise was understated (pt. 2)

And so begins the stealthy act of blogging at work..

"So this is the new year
And I don't feel any different
The clanking of crystal
Explosions off in the distance

So this is the new year
And I have no resolutions
For self-assigned penance
For problems with easy solutions"

The moment I popped out of bed yesterday morning (and without a hint of hangover, mind you - yay for B12) I took out Transatlanticism and played this song to usher in 2008. My favorite part is when it gets jaunty, but when it did, it was disappointing this time, as the lyrics change tracks and plunges into relationship territory. That never gets old, does it? Anti-climactic, just like the actual new year. Due to a dry run of new songs I've downloaded (they aren't sticking), I've returned to the soundtrack of my high school existence. But what greets my ears is less than picture perfect. Speaking specifically of Death Cab for Cutie's first few albums, the ones before Ben Gibbard got a bit older and hopped on the pop train, I've realized that their lyrical matter is much more sexual, depressing, and violent than I never imagined. All that rolled into one. I can say the same about the world, and some of my friends. It's not really reassuring. So grow up already, right? Shock, demystification, acceptance. I hate acceptance.

How does one make an impression using art these days? In some ways, I hate our day and age, where technological advances have pushed consumption over the human speed limit. Today it is practice in discipline being still and focusing on one thing for more than a moment (for more than fifteen minutes?). We forget how to process and digest. Artists of the not quite genius variety have it hard these days, as talent is easy to come by. Living simply is obsolete. And you don't need a magazine to tell you how to do it. Ridiculous. Maybe it's just me; I'm always on the move, hunting for the next big thrill. I'll wait for it, but it had better come. All this makes me anxious.

And somebody should do something about all the world's problems!

Tuesday, January 01, 2008

The tattoo of a flower on a broken wrist

I am starting this thing up again in hopes of maintaining sanity and staving off boredom. Dusty old thing, this mind of mine. Get 'er done!

The dead. Why are they so horrifying? Bodies decay and look gross, get over it. It's natural. I just finished reading the novel The Lovely Bones, and because the narrator is a 14-year-old murdered girl (it's quite alright, she's sweet and in heaven), I feel that much at ease with the normalized idea of human spirits and ghosts. Can't say the same for the living. [B+]
Also watched The Sixth Sense tonight for the first time- yes, I'm waaay behind the times, but I lost the desire to see it after someone told me the ending years ago. It was okay. And precocious little children who see dead people? "The Shining" did it earlier and better. I think that the dead shouldn't haunting the poor living like that. But I guess it can get boring at times if you never cease to exist. It was a pleasant surprise to see Olivia Williams in it, although I'll always regard her as the lovely 1st grade teacher in "Rushmore" who charmed the socks off Max Fischer (immediately) and myself (after a repeated viewing). [B-]
Also saw Once, the (correction) Irish semi-musical with documentary-like camera shakes. The film music was moving, because there is something magical about writing and playing songs with someone you care about who loves music too, but there's no way that I would have looked up the songs and downloaded them off an mp3 blog if I didn't see this movie. Standing alone, they belong in the sappy folk-rock category. Not impressive. I also felt that the ending left something to be desired. Perhaps I am an escapist these days, but if I want reality, I'm not reaching for a dvd. [B-] And my heart is simultaneously pleased and creeped out that Glen Hansard and Marketa Inglova, the two stars, are a real life couple and are 37 and 17 years old. I wonder what's it like for him to be so close to having youth again. It's something special, for sure. But I think that the young should enjoy the young. It's a different sort of appreciation. Someone said, youth is wasted on the young .. but what are you supposed to do with it?

When is it absurd to continue on being patient? Because I want to kick someone/something with the way things are now. Please remember that alcohol is a depressant. You've gone off the rails

More interesting posts to come, soon. For important topics, read the paper. Because if you aren't interesting or important, what are you?