Monday, February 29, 2016
Sunday, February 28, 2016
Sunday Son #8: "This is a Man's World" by James Brown
This is a man's world, this is a man's world,
But it wouldn't be nothing, nothing without a woman or a girl.
But it wouldn't be nothing, nothing without a woman or a girl.
You see, man made the cars to take us over the road;
Man made the trains to carry heavy loads.
Man made electric light to take us out of the dark.
Man made the boat for the water, like Noah made the ark.
Man made the trains to carry heavy loads.
Man made electric light to take us out of the dark.
Man made the boat for the water, like Noah made the ark.
This is a man's, a man's, a man's world
But it wouldn't be nothing, nothing without a woman or a girl.
But it wouldn't be nothing, nothing without a woman or a girl.
Man thinks about a little baby girls and a baby boys,
Man makes then happy 'cause man makes them toys.
And after man has made everything, everything he can
You know that man makes money to buy from other man.
Man makes then happy 'cause man makes them toys.
And after man has made everything, everything he can
You know that man makes money to buy from other man.
This is a man's world
But it wouldn't be nothing, nothing without a woman or a girl
But it wouldn't be nothing, nothing without a woman or a girl
He's lost in the wilderness
He's lost in bitterness
He's lost in bitterness
Saturday, February 27, 2016
Loving Vincent, Trailer
Wednesday, February 24, 2016
Want
"Dave?"
I called out into my empty house, but the lamp glowed faintly and my cat looked up at me, her eyes half closed in boredom. The house stood still, silent.
I couldn't remember him leaving. I must have dozed off; I lay on the couch with my computer open and "I'm Gonna Lose you" playing, barely audible, from a list of songs Dave and I made together. Our tea cups still sat on the table with spoons in them and mine was still half full. I wrapped my hand around the cup, letting the warmth seep through my fingers, and sipped the look-warm tea as I sat alone.
Now I remembered. He had kissed me at the door on the nose, and I had called him a dork; "No," he replied as he always did, "I'm you're dork." He told me he loved me, and then I had opened the door and let him disappear into the dark damp night. He would be here in the morning to take me to work, even though I hadn't asked; he said he wanted the extra time together.
And the time has been short lately. I work in the mornings and he works at night, and when I get a day off I feel desperately like being by myself, away from this swarm of humanity I see every other day.
Soon my cup is empty. I place it back on the table and stretch my arm out to my cat, scratching her behind the ears as she likes it. Her neck stretches out and her body begins to vibrate softly, like a hum. I pull her onto my lap. Slowly I let my head sink to the arm chair and stare at the lamppost outside my window. The night is so dark tonight, so heavy with mist that the light from the lamppost only penetrates a little into the fog, A grey globe of mist surrounds the light and muffles its glow.
I let out a deep sigh.
Sleeping alone grows harder; saying goodnight grows lonelier. I like having his arms wrapped around me and his face nuzzled into my neck, more than I've ever enjoyed someone else being so close to me. When we cuddle we feel so comfortable, like we're puzzle pieces fit exactly right for each other. And when he falls asleep cuddling, he looks so very happy. I am addicted to that face.
A guilt-free conscience, a guilt-free love, I remind myself silently. My cat shoves her face under my hand for more pets, still purring contentedly.
"I want all of you, body, mind and spirit. One's gonna have to wait; let's focus on the other two." Dave says this to me gently whenever I feel like complaining. And I remind myself again, that only two of those things will last forever.
I think of the random things Dave taught me this week. He taught me politicians wear either red or blue ties; one to show power and the other creativity. He taught me that although Switzerland was a pacifist country, almost everyone has guns, and that nakedness is associated with innocence in Japanese culture.. He always leads off with, "here's one of the funny one's" whenever he pulls out a random fact no one besides him would ever learn about.
I think about the slips of poetry he has scattered around his room, in unkempt piles on the floor, on his music stand, in his notebooks. I think of all the odd faces he makes while playing guitar, too focused on his music to notice or care what he look like. I think about the way he throws his head back when he laughs alone, and how bashful he gets around people he's never met. When he's with his friends, he's the first to make a wisecrack that earned him the nickname Boomhower. I remember complaining to two of my friends about how I missed an ex, and both of them immediately jumped on me. "You have a man who worships the ground you walk on," my roommate reminded me, "It's disgusting, really. But most girls would want that." My other friend said, "He obviously respects you and loves you; that's what you deserve."
I wouldn't say I deserve it. I only want to be the woman he deserves.
These are just parts of his mind and spirit. There's so much more I want to learn about him, so much more I want to do with him. I still need to show him some of the woods near our college, and he has 4 more animes he wants to introduce me to. I think we'll stay busy.
After a while I gather my cat up and walk upstairs. I leave the door open a crack, in case the cats wants to get out, and let on a record of ELO; then I throw the duvet over me and let my cat purr under my arm.
I go to sleep thinking about those green eyes, the color of the sea and as deep as it too. I'm still learning what those eyes are saying when they look at me, but most of the time they're saying I love you.
And they'll be waiting for me tomorrow. Because I love him too, and neither of us are going anywhere..
I called out into my empty house, but the lamp glowed faintly and my cat looked up at me, her eyes half closed in boredom. The house stood still, silent.
I couldn't remember him leaving. I must have dozed off; I lay on the couch with my computer open and "I'm Gonna Lose you" playing, barely audible, from a list of songs Dave and I made together. Our tea cups still sat on the table with spoons in them and mine was still half full. I wrapped my hand around the cup, letting the warmth seep through my fingers, and sipped the look-warm tea as I sat alone.
Now I remembered. He had kissed me at the door on the nose, and I had called him a dork; "No," he replied as he always did, "I'm you're dork." He told me he loved me, and then I had opened the door and let him disappear into the dark damp night. He would be here in the morning to take me to work, even though I hadn't asked; he said he wanted the extra time together.
And the time has been short lately. I work in the mornings and he works at night, and when I get a day off I feel desperately like being by myself, away from this swarm of humanity I see every other day.
Soon my cup is empty. I place it back on the table and stretch my arm out to my cat, scratching her behind the ears as she likes it. Her neck stretches out and her body begins to vibrate softly, like a hum. I pull her onto my lap. Slowly I let my head sink to the arm chair and stare at the lamppost outside my window. The night is so dark tonight, so heavy with mist that the light from the lamppost only penetrates a little into the fog, A grey globe of mist surrounds the light and muffles its glow.
I let out a deep sigh.
Sleeping alone grows harder; saying goodnight grows lonelier. I like having his arms wrapped around me and his face nuzzled into my neck, more than I've ever enjoyed someone else being so close to me. When we cuddle we feel so comfortable, like we're puzzle pieces fit exactly right for each other. And when he falls asleep cuddling, he looks so very happy. I am addicted to that face.
A guilt-free conscience, a guilt-free love, I remind myself silently. My cat shoves her face under my hand for more pets, still purring contentedly.
"I want all of you, body, mind and spirit. One's gonna have to wait; let's focus on the other two." Dave says this to me gently whenever I feel like complaining. And I remind myself again, that only two of those things will last forever.
I think of the random things Dave taught me this week. He taught me politicians wear either red or blue ties; one to show power and the other creativity. He taught me that although Switzerland was a pacifist country, almost everyone has guns, and that nakedness is associated with innocence in Japanese culture.. He always leads off with, "here's one of the funny one's" whenever he pulls out a random fact no one besides him would ever learn about.
I think about the slips of poetry he has scattered around his room, in unkempt piles on the floor, on his music stand, in his notebooks. I think of all the odd faces he makes while playing guitar, too focused on his music to notice or care what he look like. I think about the way he throws his head back when he laughs alone, and how bashful he gets around people he's never met. When he's with his friends, he's the first to make a wisecrack that earned him the nickname Boomhower. I remember complaining to two of my friends about how I missed an ex, and both of them immediately jumped on me. "You have a man who worships the ground you walk on," my roommate reminded me, "It's disgusting, really. But most girls would want that." My other friend said, "He obviously respects you and loves you; that's what you deserve."
I wouldn't say I deserve it. I only want to be the woman he deserves.
These are just parts of his mind and spirit. There's so much more I want to learn about him, so much more I want to do with him. I still need to show him some of the woods near our college, and he has 4 more animes he wants to introduce me to. I think we'll stay busy.
After a while I gather my cat up and walk upstairs. I leave the door open a crack, in case the cats wants to get out, and let on a record of ELO; then I throw the duvet over me and let my cat purr under my arm.
I go to sleep thinking about those green eyes, the color of the sea and as deep as it too. I'm still learning what those eyes are saying when they look at me, but most of the time they're saying I love you.
And they'll be waiting for me tomorrow. Because I love him too, and neither of us are going anywhere..
Sunday, February 21, 2016
Sunday Song #7: "Ocean of Noise" by Arcade Fire
In an ocean of noise,
I first heard your voice.
Ringing like a bell
As if I had a choice.
Oh well!
Left in the morning
While you were fast asleep,
Into an ocean of violence
A world of empty streets;
You've got your reasons
And, me - I've got mine,
But all the reasons I gave
Were just lies to buy myself some time.
In an ocean of noise
I first heard your voice;
Now who here among us
Still believes in choice?
Not I!
No way of knowing
What any man will do;
An ocean of violence
Between me and you.
You've got your reasons
And, me - I've got mine,
But all the reasons I gave
Were just lies to buy myself some time.
I'm gonna work it out
'Cause time won't work it out
I'm gonna work it out
'Cause time won't work it our for you
I'm gonna work it on out
'Cause time won't work it our for you
I'm gonna work it on out
'Cause time won't work it our for you
I'm gonna work it on out
Tuesday, February 16, 2016
Millennials
We're the generation that can communicate with anyone, anywhere on the planet, at any time, speaking to them through little machines like they were right next to us.
We're the generation that can go to a different universe and live in it for days, killing dragons with magic and building houses with stone we've collected while making friends with aliens or humans or elves. We can do all of this by moving two of our fingers.
We're the generation that can access and process almost all of the information in the world, current and past, in our homes. We can instantly watch what is happening 300,000 miles away, like we were there. We can access free history, free opinions on history, free counter-theories on that history, free different perspectives on that history, at any moment. We can look up any word in any language for free. We can listen to the opinions, the blogs and the facebooks and the twitters, of most human beings on the planet, whenever we care to listen.
Most of us carry a little device in our pocket, five inches long and three inches wide, that gives us all of this at any time we want.
We're the generation where for a month's pay we can visit a different world in a day, where people look differently than we do and speak differently than we do and have differently shaped houses and clothes and think differently than we do. But when all of this is stripped away, we still all need to love and feel happy and eat and sleep and work, and the easier it is for us to visit one another, the smaller the world becomes, the more we realize that we are all neighbors, all needing one another to get by.
We're the generation that treats people like they're people, no matter what they look like or what they do. At least we're trying to be.
Yes, we're lazy. We get so caught up in our magic machinery, our alternate universes and our instantaneous communication that we put little emphasis on money and a 9-5 job and an education. I guess our little phones keep telling us that education doesn't get us a job. Our phones keep telling us 9-5 jobs don't make you happier or a better person. Our phones keep telling us that people of different races, different sexual orientations, different religions and different genders are people with just as many flaws and just as much goodness as anybody else.
So stop making fun of us. We're in our twenties and thirties, and our phones tell us how when you were kids, you were doing drugs, being racist and inventing the trends we're still following today. We're your children and your grandchildren. Give us some time, let's see what we can do.
We're the generation that can go to a different universe and live in it for days, killing dragons with magic and building houses with stone we've collected while making friends with aliens or humans or elves. We can do all of this by moving two of our fingers.
We're the generation that can access and process almost all of the information in the world, current and past, in our homes. We can instantly watch what is happening 300,000 miles away, like we were there. We can access free history, free opinions on history, free counter-theories on that history, free different perspectives on that history, at any moment. We can look up any word in any language for free. We can listen to the opinions, the blogs and the facebooks and the twitters, of most human beings on the planet, whenever we care to listen.
Most of us carry a little device in our pocket, five inches long and three inches wide, that gives us all of this at any time we want.
We're the generation where for a month's pay we can visit a different world in a day, where people look differently than we do and speak differently than we do and have differently shaped houses and clothes and think differently than we do. But when all of this is stripped away, we still all need to love and feel happy and eat and sleep and work, and the easier it is for us to visit one another, the smaller the world becomes, the more we realize that we are all neighbors, all needing one another to get by.
We're the generation that treats people like they're people, no matter what they look like or what they do. At least we're trying to be.
Yes, we're lazy. We get so caught up in our magic machinery, our alternate universes and our instantaneous communication that we put little emphasis on money and a 9-5 job and an education. I guess our little phones keep telling us that education doesn't get us a job. Our phones keep telling us 9-5 jobs don't make you happier or a better person. Our phones keep telling us that people of different races, different sexual orientations, different religions and different genders are people with just as many flaws and just as much goodness as anybody else.
So stop making fun of us. We're in our twenties and thirties, and our phones tell us how when you were kids, you were doing drugs, being racist and inventing the trends we're still following today. We're your children and your grandchildren. Give us some time, let's see what we can do.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)