baby don't cry. baby don't cry.
+listening to: the weary kind by ryan bingham
Saturday, February 27
Friday, February 26
| i don't know |  |
went on another ride to nowhere. just endless pedal, pedal, pedal. little red bird in my ears, neon red and green streaking past my eyes. void. i tried to recall the good times. can't seem to remember any. maybe that's why i like riding my bike so much. so i don't have to think. and time just halts...
back to square one...
when the first drops hit your lips, it's insatiably saccharine, then after a few more rounds it starts to go south. and then you think, there's got to be something wrong when you're just sitting here sobbing... there's got to be something wrong. i'm tired of fighting it alone...
little red bird under a chair
waiting for the crumbs to fall
daddy said "get a job"
don't you see, daddy,
waiting for the crumbs to fall
daddy said "get a job"
don't you see, daddy,
how good i am at catching crumbs?
guns and gods and little red birds
guns and gods and little red birds
guns and gods and little red birds
guns and gods and little red birds
comfort to count the battles won after the war is lost
if there was a place hidden in the stars
reflected on heaven's graces
if god had an honest face
reflected on heaven's graces
if god had an honest face
a troubled expression would be watching the human race
can't you see? i'm the little red bird.
+listening to: nothing
| a man for every man | |
a man for every man. it's an expression i heard when i was watching a george hincapie documentary. that's the phrase they used to describe him. it resonated deeply within me. something just stirred inside that i can't quite describe. because i think a part of me wants to become a person like that. not every man for himself, but a man for every man.
+listening to: little red bird by dave matthews band
Thursday, February 25
| the absconded sessions | |
take a listen. but be warned: it's very raw.
you'll need flash player.
driving through the desert i met a man
who told me of his crazy plan
he’d been walking there for 20 days
he was gonna walk on for 20 more
i said, “how ‘bout a drink or a bite to eat”
he said, “no, my faith is all i need”
so then, save me, save me
mister walking man, if you can
you don’t need to prove a thing to me
just give me faith make me believe
c’mon save me, save me
mister walking man, if you can
c’mon save me, save me
i said, “stranger if you please”
save me, save me
stranger if you please
or am i too far gone?
i said, “to get back home”
+listening to: nothing
Wednesday, February 24
| the cycle | |
the cycle unfortunately always comes around on itself. what was meant to be a victory somewhat has turned into yet another mishap in a series of tragedies. catastrophe some might even say. i'm too tired to be angry at myself. i've been awake for the last 18 hours. i gave it my best shot. but my best shot came up short yet again.
it's just starting to sink in. the hurt. i remembered how it felt. that's why i did all i can not to feel it again. the initial excitement of completing it is all but gone. sigh.
but today was not a complete waste. i got a reply on facebook. i'm relieved that my words did what it was intended and lifted up a person's spirit. maybe i have a gift with words. but then again it's a double edged sword. more often than not those rationalities hurt myself even more.
i don't like being down. i try to be positive. but most of the time i'm a man of circumstances. nevertheless a very good friend once told me to "stay strong". just those two austere, unpretentious syllables. stay strong. and so i continue to struggle because i need to stay strong. and i smile in the face of uncertainty because i have to stay strong.
+listening to: nothing
| again | |
six numbers, one more to dial, before I'm before you. I tried to call, been busy all night, gave up waiting at daylight.
it's a familiar situation: i'm here. 4am. quiet. where's the break of dawn? am deeply disturbed about a friend in distress. seems like it's never been this bad and it's troubling me. i want to help but i don't know how, yet i feel indebted because the support and encouragement i got from this friend meant the world when i was in a pit.
what do i do. fuck.
+listening to: man on the side by john mayer
Monday, February 22
| flashback | |
on my way home from everitt lab today, i walked by the vivarium as usual, with nothing in particular on my mind. and then for an instant it just hit.
the flashback, of childhood memories from years gone by. i can't even tell for sure how old i was. i just remember the neon lit streets and the fading light on the way home from school. i guess it had something to do with the time of day and the street lightings.
it's not so much of the memory as it is the feeling; that distant yet strangely familiar state of mind. tranquility amidst turbulence: tranquil because of the sense of kinship, turbulent as a result of the realization of detachment from reality, even if it's just for a split second. i've been getting more of these things recently for reasons unknown. i'm puzzled.
+listening to: kundalini bonfire by dave matthews & tim reynolds
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