Gennaio 2011
29 post
Concepts create idols; only wonder understands anything. - Gregory of Nyssa
Ascolta
Sweat pours down on me In the back seat sleeping She watches from her empty bed At the window weeping Ghost guns that motor To the land that he promised me Draw bridge abandoned And the motor leads no where
This is a song for the dislocated Who want to love but are doomed to be hated Because the lies of the spirit possess you Because the eyes of your lover resist you Listen up boy,...
and yet some days we are stones cold and stuck whether in time or place or head or heart
Ascolta
stepped out into the cold rain, sleepwalking to the metro station a ghost rider, no place for me to sit all the sad people passing by heads down and hearts drawn dry my stops coming up so i say goodbye sad people don’t you weep no more i hate to see things go this way
i tried so hard, to stand still but the wind, it crumbled me liquefied from blood to brine time stood still on me
“Our culture had evolved to the point where death is perceived more keenly than before. So we develop ever stronger and more subtle ways to deny death, to avoid both its imminence and its necessity. Existential philosophers have pointed out, in numerous ways, how this denial of death results in a less active life. Indeed, it’s a kind of denial of life since life and death go hand...
somewhere during the day i let my self go and became the witness
Ascolta
Ascolta
“I remember thinking, Oh great, it’s four in the morning and I’m having some sort of weird mystical experience right in the kitchen of one of my best friends, merely by touching a woman I’ve never met before. This is not going to be easy to explain.”
Ida - Radiator
