son lux: weapons

spent most of the day after work on the couch listening

to greg laswell and reading A Very Private Gentleman by Martin Booth.

suffice it to say, the movie doesn't ruin the book for me at all.

...

i also made it a point to listen to no music released after 2006.

it was awesome.

tune-yards: little tiger

falling back to sleep

with your melody on repeat

if it wasn't what i did,

what was it

you needed?

...

clean dishes. clean car. clean room.

spend less time somewhere between 2005 and 2008.

...

whenever i feel detached or perforated or distant.

i play this song over and over until i feel better.

and it works every time.

joseph arthur: smile that explodes

day off today.

melted away the afternoon writing music

reading and listening to newer music given to me

by a good friend of mine, chaz.

...

wicked is the wondering wishes of a windswept reality.

gregory & the hawk: fin song 8

lookbook get.nu can really depressing.

positives: i have a cat now. his real name is jones, but brennan and i call hi jonsi. he doesnt seem to mind it. he says goodmorning and welcome back from work. i've always wanted a cat.

man, this is really boring.

negatives: i feel like im waiting for something to happen. maybe its next year. maybe next week. or maybe its just fall. fall is just the decaying space between summer and winter. the smell of rot is everywhere right now. i love it.

joel says it smells like feet. i think it smells like 12 years old walking through the woods with a rusted machete and a bbgun, slitted sunshine running like shooting stars across his face as he searches for the miniature movements of small rodents and listens to his pulse slowing to match that of the trees' stretching like tributary veins under his feet. chill reddening his cheeks to rosehip blush. the chill means you're alive. the cold in the lungs. the breaking of day and leaves. sight and sound and sensation. death decay and a displacement of rusted light by birch trunks.

the past is endlessly one thing and everything at once. 21 years is a single moment.

Gregory and the Hawk - Wild West from Bandstand Busking on Vimeo.

its not exactly true to scale, she said. nothing that can be said into solid. i mean.
oh. well. i suppose that can be taken into consideration. all things considered. i don't know. it being one of those all considered things. obviously.
he sets the mug down at an angle, causing a quick rapping against the table. one side of the circle rolling to the other. then still. imagines a mug rolling on the edge of an infinite circle. never resting itself flat to wood.
are there, i don't know, movements against these things?
no. i mean. yes. a happiness. of sorts. a maybe happiness. a small current. but, i mean. so it has little do with it. i mean. im not sure how to make it clearer than that, really. i mean. yeah.
hm. let's say. us, together, that. i don't know. we've become clear.

i mean. its not how i think. its in movements. tastes. really cliche neo-nuclear stories with sexing and gays and a protagonist with mysteriously infinite assets and perfect skin; i mean, these are the meanings behind desire and fear. a dead run, i mean. the imagination. i don't remember myself young. i mean. i don't image the softness. the round plumpness of youth. the stumpy curves of new organs and unfamiliar bones. unfamiliar to dying. how far can this go until it doesn't? i mean, until it doesn't? forget the wind. the weight of a hand on your stomach. that goes away, mean. when it happens.
when it happens? how it happens, i don't know, is not really in the question. oldness?
the sticking sound of barefeet on hardwoodfloor. across to the counter, then back again. leaves hit the windows, shattering it. spinning around the room, the leaves push against the cabinets. pressing their veins into the ceiling. the roof grows. then time slows. and however far we had come, moved itself into the corner of a locked room that caved and lost its corners.
touch me and i'll explode. saying things i already know.




we've got our faces made for smiling, but we are weeping.

you can lose what you can't touch.

you can kiss and never love.

...

asleep in the corners of my house

breathing in the spaces between my words.

it's the moon on the sill.

I Can Make A Mess Like Nobody's Business part 2

ICanMakeAMessLikeNobodysBusiness-album out NOW!!! | MySpace Music Videos

phoenix: rome

i've been writing a ton of music in garage band. like, 4 songs. which feels like a ton because each song has about 7 tracks. sooo, 7 times 4 is 28. which is 28 tracks recorded separately. anyway. watched 500 days of summer today after work. every time i finish watching that movie, i can't help but let out a huge sigh of satisfaction. i like watching good movies. movies that inspire you. to do something with yourself. hmm. anyway. i want to be creative now. more than usual.

i need to start sketching again. i need to start running again. saving money. etc. etc. etc. taking pictures. people watching. studying french. or anything.

moving forwards.

Brandon Flowers - Crossfire from Victor Rivine on Vimeo.

Greg Laswell : Comes and Goes (In Waves)

coldplay: see you soon

i hate it when people discredit coldplay by saying

they are a u2 knockoff; completely unoriginal.

fuck U2.

they've never written anything close to

this beautiful. im completely helpless when i

listen to this song. and i think thats what music

is about. feeling helpless to the point of letting

the song move you any which way it will.

Delta Spirit "White Table" from Yours Truly on Vimeo.

sososososososo
good.

explosions in the sky: your hand in mine

how i know i'm getting old:

i just finished trimming nose hairs.

bleh.

freelance whales: hannah

Vetiver & Fruit Bats from Yours Truly on Vimeo.

today and every day.

falling softly into the earth.

swimming among the leaves.

kissing every golden sound

of the dreams that wait beneath your cheek;

until moonlit breathing

tucks your diamond mind

into velvet sleep.

to wait awake in this moment to take

every hope and sew them together to make

the blanket that smoothes angles into waves.

explosions in the sky: slow dance

you're not alone.

you're now a part of me.

you feel the joy.

i'll feel the toil that brought you.

collie: gimmie love

i hope to be making these same google searching pretty soon.

say hi: maurine

The Making of Forming Game (2008) from Malcolm Sutherland on Vimeo.

Forming Game (HD - 2008) from Malcolm Sutherland on Vimeo.

i'm going to start sketching again.

aaron krause: singing forever

you are all.

everything.

the purpose and wonder of breathing.

it's june. summer halfway over.

and then the winter. and then the summer. and the winter. everything all over everything all over everything. the new burrying the old with itself. the old sleeping in itself. inversely. walking backwards. watching the faces get smaller. stumbling into the future blindly. sucking the old air to make room for the new lungs. folded in perfectly pink pairs. to grow gray with distance. with time. with all the beauty it consumes. day into night into day. shivering in evening and daybreak. lost in the disclarity of inbetween. the soft reminder of the silent turning of everything. over and over.

crippling me into ignorance of every why i've ever wondered.

broken social scene: texico bitches

fuck.

goddamnit don't you know i'm in love with you?

the sun came up with no conclusions

flowers sleeping in their beds

the city cemetery's humming

i'm wide awake, it's morning.

rogue wave: all that remains

movement.

forward. something. anything.

proceed. not secede. succeed.

how far is too far.

how long until i get there.

because i remember

remember you beautiful.

as beautiful as impossible things are.

broken social scene: market fresh

"Cemetery" live from MySpace Transmissions

MySpace Transmissions MySpace Video

i love life but life has a boyfriend.

circa survive: glass arrows

...

that's when you speak to me so softly. when i am most weak and my ways have lost me. "my love, my love, you are not alone. in the moments that you doubt me, i am by your side all around and underneath. my love. my love

you are not alone."

the decemberists: oceanside

i desire to make a music video so very badly.

so muchly.

so heartbreakingly. breathtakingly.

moving in eliptical patters towards the inside

without an outside. just a giant inside.

the universe? the forever inside?

or the forever outside?

Friends with my Sister- cover

lonely: the middle east

i am writing letters to beautiful strangers.

not in desperation. it's just the cheapest way to travel.

for my self to travel.

abroad. what i say and do. solidified. scribing myself out of thin air.

into something more solid. touched and breathed upon. held.

something 'organic', i guess.

...

Broken Yolk in Western Sky

the acorn: maplebees

tokyo police club concert = awesome.

dancing like mad to a lot of songs. mostly off of their Elephant Shell album. which is good, because that is the only one i really listen to. did nothing today. slept. homework. watched hockey. right now i am too awake to sleep and too inspired to do homework or read, so im trying to write music. it's going well, i suppose. hopefully i can get eric and joel to jam it out with me tomorrow. i've been in a creative lull lately. bleh. its gross.

...

i have discovered buying my favourite CD's off of ebay is

hella cheaper than ordering them from B&N. yeah!

5 bucks for a someone still loves you boris yeltsin album?

don't mind if i do.

...

the color fred: if i surrender

i don't know what i'm doing.

where i am going.

all i know, is that it is very fast.

very.

...

s=d/t

this keeps rolling through my mind. especially while i am driving.

speed is distance over time. the wonder of this standstill spin of the earth.

daylight and daybreak and nightlight and nightbreak.

even if i don't move, then the earth still does.

and even if the earth and i cease to move, i still age.

time isn't sunshine and nightdull.

time is a steady decaying in me.

my body is time. the speed by distance.

and everything around me. our bodies bore of working.

of movement. of healing. of sleeping and waking.

Haruki Murakami said in Norwegian Wood that we breathe in death

like a fine dust. it builds in our lungs. seeps to our blood stream.

hardens over our veins and muscles. settles in us to settle us.

stiffening us. preparing us for that long casket dream.

how kind it is, then. i suppose.

...

Wakey!Wakey! - Light Outside from VsTheBrain on Vimeo.

mewithoutYou: a glass can only spill what it contains.

when you start contemplating driving your car off a rural dirt road

into a dense array of birch trees and evergreens,

its about time to reevaluate your assets and priorities and breathe.

and maybe stop driving for a little while.

...

david bazan: curse your branches

"it's hard to be. it's hard to be. it's hard to be.

a decent human being."

...

woke up early today. took a shower. washed dishes.

all to david bazans voice. i bought his (former lead

singer of Pedro the Lion) album yesterday and i

can tell you i couldnt be more not dissapointed.

...

the windows bow against the biting

bitter cold chewing at the corners of the house

nibbling fences and exposed mouths.

speaking clouds into bloom to settle and prism the moon.

rainbow rays dancing light

upturned face and hands reflect the night

when it seems so sane

to bite the lip just for the red stain.

...

eisley: the valley

birthday. yesyes.

21 and older than i ever thought i would ever live to be.

...

1.) fender american jazz bass modified to passive

2.) socks that look like dinosaur feet

3.) boss dd20 digital delay

4.) boss bass driver

5.) bdg gray vneck and bdg purple crew neck

6.) really big oldtimelooking key/bottle opener

7.) paycheck for covering daniels shifts

8.) inebriation at the marlin, a chauffeur, and breakfast on jereds couch

9.) ticket to mewithoutYou

10.) chocolate skateboard deck (the wooden one you ride on)

11.) the love of those i love to love and be loved by

Sleeping in the Snow from MAMMOTH on Vimeo.

tv on the radio: love dog

the fire in the sky

bears witness to your light

the shining in your eyes

i won't crowd your heart

but this distance is to far

from where i am to where you are.

the submarines: vote

i brush your arm and i feel your warmth

your warmth.

traveling these seas just to hear your heart beat

your heart beat.

and this hope will be my doom

this hope in you.
...

discovery: swing tree

the most gentle nakedness, please.

...
speak to me through winters lace
quiet falling with feathers grace
all around
let it be known there is a movement here
a soft beating oh let me hear
your beautiful sounds
not the echos of all the evil things i've done
no crashing cars just the breaking of your love
on me.

...


may. fourth. yes! yes! yes!

the rocket summer: nothing matters

well,

its only good until it isn't.

is that comforting?

...

it would be so weird if jeremy was still alive.

yeah.

i just thought about that

he'd probably be married.

yeah. he'd probably be here now. married. alive.

yup.

i mean, like. a nice weird. like. just. like spicy foods.

or something. i don't know what im trying to say.

i know. i miss him too much too.

...

this is my suitcase: love

hope pulses soft against my shirt

like a summer bird under winters skirt.

oh, how alone are we now?

motion city soundtrack: the conversation

i recieved mail from my flickr friend s.toth.

she lives in brazil, and she didnt know what the abreviation AK meant,

so her letter to me started "i wonder what its like to live in Arkansas."

and i was like, whaaat?

...

it started snowing again, after everything almost melted completely. its a glorious dissapointment. the sky is the thickest shade of grey. the buildings and people have sharper edges and stand out almost as if they were cut and pasted afterthoughtedly. floating semi-aimlessly. every evening passing finds my body limplifeless.

"there is a movement in our stillness and however much

we move we're bound to stand completely still."

-aaron weiss

this is s. toth singing with conor. jeaaloussyyy.

j. tillman: when i light your darkened door

joel: she had me over for a movie, and it started getting awkward and then i realized she wanted the dick.

me: she wanted THE dick?

joel: yes. the dick.

me: oh. wow. umm. gross.

joel: exactly.

brand new: stole

im in love with this girls face.

...

theres a quaking in the distance.

shivering closer and closer.

echoes of bones in rows of teeth

gather around to join the sounds.

im the dancing grayflame.

naked against coldlight.

the moons moon, reflecting the shine

pretending the darkwarmth is mine.

...

im in love with this mans mind.

basement apartment: kicking the can

my mom used to lock my brother and i out of the house after we finished our schoolwork (we were homeschooled) so she could watch 'the young and the restless' in silence and solitude. one particularly hot day Brennan picked up a baseball bat and a Mcdonalds happy meal toy, walked down to the bottom of the driveway, threw the figure up in the air, and struck it with the bat, scattering simba into the middle of the culdisac. i grabbed my bat and followed suit. when one of us had sufficiently obliterated a plastic toy, we went scavenging for another. anything that we would never miss, and maybe some stuff we would, burst across our metal bats like tiny glass balls of confetti. eventually our hands grew blisters and our bare shoulders felt like our veins were pumping molasses. we set our bats down, skipping over shards of batman and barbie to the hose. we made mud puddles in the grass to cool our blazing feet and drank until our stomachs made sloshing noises then tried to punch each other to make one of us vomit. i laid down in the grass and stared into the heavens, and i remember wondering how a tree could be male or female like i had heard my mom talking about to our neighbors. i wanted to break more stuff. i wanted to light the trees on fire with a magnifying glass, male and female or whatever they were. i wanted to drive a motorcycle muchtoofast off of a building in a leather jacket. i wanted to be jonathan taylor thomas with a girlfriend i could call "babe". i wanted to live forever, spitting blood, clenching scabbed knuckles. i wanted to tell someone to shut up and not get in trouble. i wanted to be anything but twelve. whatever.

hellogoodbye: dear jamie...sincerely me

this hellogoodbye song was the shit.

like. forever ago.

i remember every single emo girl had this on

their myspace and/or xanga.

christixcore.

xstephanixmissmurder

dianadeathwish

alexxxxxxhardxcore.

or whatever.

slashed bangs super skinny screamo purple hairdye

hottopic bandt makeoutbracelets straightedge writing

your favourite song lyrics all over everything stupidstupidlove.

am i getting less and less cool every day of my life?

ferraby lionheart: the ballad of gus and sam

...

everytime i watch fight club

i want to break something.

punch and feel a shattering.

or maybe just do nothing;

push all the furniture to the walls of the living room

so everything is in orbit around me

suspended and suspending.

the core of the house.

me. lying in the center.

my veins pulsing gravity.

...

i think if i watched Donnie Darko, Stay, and Fight Club in one night,

something magical would happen.

radiohead: all i need

..

i have these raging impossibilities spinning around my skull.

weaving. teasing. pleasing. diseasing.

..

new favourite word: rubenesque
..

4:10 of this video is the reason i love this band so dearly, so. oh so, so.

so, so, so muchly.

clinic: the second line

joel, travis and i got coffee at denny's tonight.

it was good. yes. it was.

the waitress left the coffee pot on the table.

...

i miss when i'd nurse my tea

sipping endlessly at the rim, even

when i had run out.

all the while your lips and tongue would

dance awkward-endlessly across teeth and thoughts.

lamplight cut gold into your hair as

you shifted slightly from your knees

and i sifted quietly into dream.

...

stars:better be heaven

..

he sleeps in his clothes

so he smells of dreams.

he's in love,

so he brushes his teeth.

..

wesely jensen: solid gold

this is the moment

when it breaks

when the bones begin to shake

and cave

this is how the movement stops

and begins to spin the other way

damien rice: delicate

i literally am in love with Lisa Vito.

pompeii: sit & wait

my brother has been going through my old journals (secretly), scanning the drawings and saving them in this file labeled 'artist'. i found them accidentally while looking for a music file. this one is circa 2006. its from the:

'Ana Leialoha Kauanoe' journal. (my first real girlfriend).

she bought it for my birthday, which was a few weeks into our dating relationship. around the middle of the book, we started trading journals and writing in each others. so the rest of the book are some scattered scribbles from me and the remainder is wonderfully cliche 16 year old girl handwriting.

loopylovelycursive.

from that point on, you can literally watch her slowly decay into selfloathing, bitterness and hopelessness. by way of her words and poems and drawings. its rather impressive/depressive.

...

she broke up with me to go out with her ex boyfriend.

i retaliated by mailing a torn piece of paper with Bright Eyes

lyrics on it.

"so im just the medicine

you take when you're sick

get well and thats it

im put back on the shelf in your mirror

and isnt it exceptional

the course of our fate

so people love and they hate

i guess its our time turn to hate

you were just some song i wrote

a poem on a page

a sculpture i made out of clay

desire was the flame"

needless to say, we didnt stay friends.

...

the latest gossip is that she is getting married.

to the brother of the kid i gave her sisters number to.

oh well.

you strike the iron while its hot if you intend to strike at all.

right?

but, i still think she was beautiful.

a beautiful that tends to come with impossible things.

alexandra hope: whatever you want

being laid off from USPS had a lot of downsides.

the top 5 things i miss most besides a paycheck are as follows.

1.) reading postcards.

2.) borrowing Nylon magazines and UO catalogues.

3.) leaving and getting notes.

(most often in the spirit of argumentation.)

4.) purchasing gas and coffee from the same black woman

at the same time every day.

5.) watching the sun rise through the whisper of passing trees.

wheat: i met a girl

today i watched 'the book of eli' with joel.

(sorry Mila Kunis, but you will always be Jackie to me.)

i went to barnes and noble to look for the

new FADER and buy a Vampire Weekend

album and i found him reading by the magazines.

he said he was going to the movies alone. soo.

....

afterwards i bought some tea, creamer and

film by myself. i had left my phone at home, so

i basically drifted/sifted silently and undisturbed

through checkouts and people and places.

...

i've been spacing out into daydreams

while driving a lot recently.

i will wake up parked where i was headed,

with no recollection of turning into the parking lot.

maybe one day i'll wake up in canada.

or the ocean.

how exciting?

lykke li: dance dance dance

i'm fitting myself in daylight.

unwrapping sunshine.

encircling nightbreak.

is there a something rising?

to flutter my eyes full of wingfire?

you

all lipwarmth on armscars.

all eyebright in daylight.

greg laswell: i'm not out

"

"is it better to burn out than to fade away?"

-High Fidelity

Loch Lomond: Wax & Wire

man, i love these UO free mp3 downloads.

i've been spending an unpresedented amount

of time playing guitar/piano and perusing flickr today.

but i cleaned the downstairs, so some productivity.

i guess.

everything is in slow collapse.

a reverse universe condition.

(did i already blog this concept?)

galaxies creaking open.

astroid belts loosening.

all of all

sifting into nothing.

but, i suppose, nothing is something.

nowhere is somewhere.

and there is meaning in that.

oh,well.

i'll find out eventually.

like always.

for always.

third eye blind: semi charmed life

third eye blind
motorcycle drive by

crystallized in your eyes.
thickest sighs alive.