dreams aren't easily disposable.

do i stay and break the hearts of some
or do i go back and break my own.

trust me.

it may be absurd
or unrealistic
but this is a dream i have to pursue
because it's the very essense of my life
i hope that maybe, one day
we'll see eye to eye
because i love you all so much
and i wish you were a part of it too.

this.

music.
music.
music.
music.
music.

how much longer?

how many more ties will i break
what am i not seeing.

(exploding)

Existentialism is often discussed as if it's a philosophy of despair.
But I think the truth is just the opposite.
Sartre once interviewed said he never really felt a day of despair in his life.
But one thing that comes out from reading these guys...is not a sense of anguish about life so much as...
a real kind of exuberance of feeling on top of it.
It's like your life is yours to create.
I've read the post modernists with some interest, even admiration.
But when I read them, I always have this awful nagging feeling..that something absolutely essential is getting left out.
The more that you talk about a person as a social construction... or as a confluence of forces...
or as fragmented or marginalized,
what you do is you open up a whole new world of excuses.
And when Sartre talks about responsibility,
he's not talking about something abstract.
He's not talking about the kind of self or soul that theologians would argue about.
It's something very concrete. It's you and me talking.
Making decisions. Doing things and taking the consequences.
It might be true that there are six billion people in the world and counting.
Nevertheless, what you do makes a difference.
It makes a difference, first of all, in material terms.
Makes a difference to other people and it sets an example.
In short, I think the message here is...
that we should never simply write ourselves off...
and see ourselves as the victim of various forces.
It's always our decision who we are.
Creation seems to come out of imperfection.
It seems to come out of a striving and a frustration.
And this is where I think language came from.
I mean, it came from our desire to transcend our isolation...
and have some sort of connection with one another.
And it had to be easy when it was just simple survival.
Like, you know, "water." We came up with a sound for that.
Or, "Saber-toothed tiger right behind you." We came up with a sound for that.
But when it gets really interesting, I think,
is when we use that same system of symbols to communicate...
all the abstract and intangible things that we're experiencing.
What is, like, frustration? Or what is anger or love?
When I say "love,"
the sound comes out of my mouth...
and it hits the other person's ear,
travels through this Byzantine conduit in their brain,
you know, through their memories of love or lack of love,
and they register what I'm saying and say yes, they understand.
But how do I know they understand? Because words are inert.
They're just symbols. They're dead, you know?
And so much of our experience is intangible.
So much of what we perceive cannot be expressed. It's unspeakable.
And yet, you know, when we communicate with one another,
and we--
we feel that we have connected,
and we think that we're understood,
I think we have a feeling of almost spiritual communion.
And that feeling might be transient, but I think it's what we live for.

from a friend.

the sky is grey, the sand is grey, and the ocean is grey. i feel right at
home in this stunning monochrome, alone in my way. i smoke and i drink and
every time i blink i have a tiny dream. but as bad as i am i'm proud of the
fact that i'm worse than i seem. what kind of paradise am i looking for? i've
got everything i want and still i want more. maybe some tiny shiny thing will
wash up on the shore. you walk through my walls like a ghost on tv. you
penetrate me and my little pink heart is on its little brown raft floating out
to sea. and what can i say but i'm wired this way and you're wired to me, and
what can i do but wallow in you unintentionally? what kind of paradise am i
looking for? i've got everything i want and still i want more. maybe some tiny
shiny key will wash up on the shore. regretfully, i guess i've got three
simple things to say. why me? why this now? why this way? overtone's ringing,
undertow's pulling away under a sky that is grey on sand that is grey by an
ocean that's grey. what kind of paradise am i looking for? i've got everything
i want and still i want more. maybe some tiny shiny key will wash up on the
shore.

ani difranco - grey

translucent.

no more holds
and i won't sit stationary
because you thought i was blind
but now i can see
right through you.

"you sell your soul for minimum wage, but now they get your dreams for free."

lately, all my dreams have been of my worst fears.
maybe I should be a bit more optimistic and stop this "what if" crap?
it's only if I want to start living!

passive.

i know its lame
but it would be nice
to have someone
to curl up with
and go to sleep next to
without saying a word.

dug it.

are you moving much too fast?
and the good times that just don't last
if you're always on the go
make an angel in the snow
and freeze

do you feel like you're stuck in time?
forever waiting on that line
if nothing ever moves
put that needle to the groove
and sing

is it a dream keeping you awake?
is it the stillness that makes you shake?
if you need to know for sure
what's on the ocean floor
just sink

do you like things the way they seem?
or are you looking behind the scenes?
well, if you gotta know
what it takes to make it so
just believe

are there dark parts to your mind?
hidden secrets left behind
where no one ever goes
but everybody knows
it's alright

do you get dizzy on the ground?
it must be something going around
what blows us here today
will blow us all away
the breeze.

dr. dog - the breeze - fate