A Tribute to the Past.

Tuesday, November 3, 2009



The Taste of Sound
Elliot Smith - Needle in the Hay










...and the madness rambled on at 2:52 PM
|




Delirium and Written Words.

Monday, November 2, 2009



The Taste of Sound.
Ryan Adams - Fuck The Universe.
(highly recommended listening while reading this.)


My mind has an oddly British accent for narration. Oh, Silly me.

It thinks its from that country. That place you see. Don’t you wish you were more like me?

rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. Nine.


Delusions of grandeur.

Its funny.

Do you see everything like it was done for cinematics?

Will we ever know what would’ve happened if 6 was 9??

I saw the earth grow.

and soil move and crumble.

I saw waves in the sky.

I see blobs in a glass, held together securely in its shell, by comforting warm, odious liquid.

I wish my mind worked on windows.

There come those delusions again.

I watched blobs grow. Move. Spurt. Splurt. Connect. Create.

Lets pause for a cheap cost cinematic.



I wished my brain could remember as fast as it could think and dream.

I wished my body could move just twice as fast as it may seem.

Yet those persistent blobs they move and spill in seam.

Moving through glass, held tightly in place by hot liquid.

Warm comforting coloured liquid. Hot.

I lost the point of this all again.

Was it that things forgotten aren’t never like what they seem.

Or was it, just maybe,

Perhaps,

That we were living in a dream.

Maybe. I wish.

Perhaps.


Do your memories play in sephia too?

Like they were all captured through a bad photo lense.

Cracked and forgotten somewhere in between 1972.

Indeed.

We’d all live happier if we were all on shrooms.

It would be like the world in a bowl. Overflowing on smoke, lost between its ashes.

I wish my vision wasn’t as cloudy. Its been through a lot lately. Its seen its own depravity, its seen its own end. Its mistake.

I just reread the last line. Scratch that.

Lets just turn up the volume. And not question fate.

Oh fuck the universe.

And all its beautiful vigorous splendor. Will that make you love me?

Fuck it.



Does your mind read its own subtitles? Does it have an Irish lisp?

I wish my brain could remember just half as much as it forgets.

Somehow, that made complete sense.

Maybe.

I apologize for the silly little voice inside your head. Its not me. Its him. Which somehow, oddly connected, loosely resembles you.

Funny ain't it.

Speed.

Goob goob ga joob.


Its words touching chords.

Rhymes hitting flows.

Rhyming.

And all wittily smiling.

When vision has taste. And all the senses haste the feeling of waste.

My visions getting oddly frightening. Its bright. Its white. Its same. Its plain.

Its sane.

Theres no future, there’s no flavour, there’s no more words left to savour.

Am i making any sense to you?


Its like the written word before the sense you seek.

Its like trying to find what you have never seen.

Its like never seeing the words in your head before you speak.

Like the sound of a cheaply made amplifier. Set on low.

Its like the bright lights just before they blow.

I’m a fake. Fuck you.

A cheap imitation of the second edition.

A lost copy, without the carbon date.

Its like the sound a guitar makes.

Its like... silence, pause. Break.



Does your inner conscience sound smarter than you?

A wrong key, the wrong chord. Wait. Squiggly lines.



Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr



I have a little man inside my head.

He’s short, bald and ironically British.

He’s overweight.

He’s like the brother you hate.

The one you know you wished you were like. That everyone else hates .

I’ve seemed to have lost the point.

Oh wait. Oh. Nevermind.



Have you ever thought of how, water flows? No you didn’t. Shut up. Dont lie.

And if you’ve yet to find the joke in all this. Don’t ask me. Neither have i.




Its all a riddle, hidden between the sands of time.

Like drops on sand. Like waves.

Twists. In time.

We’ve all not found what we’ve all been looking for.

Don’t worry.

Its not your time. Neither is it mine.

Have you wondered since whence it all seemed to make sense?

Or since when did your letters and alphabets all seemed to listen and follow rule, like a crude joke, played on a dumb fool.

And the wealthy, will all spend their money, to send their filthy children to learn, to listen what was said once upon a time.

Hoping they would remember, something they had never forgotten.




Does your life play out like it was a cheaply done british skit cinematic?

We try to learn what we’ve never known.

The sense of it all.

Which a long time ago sailed away, upon a paper plane. A leaf through the intro.

The queen followed suit.

What would your famous last words be?

Would it matter?

Would you be famous enough for me to remember ?

How do you remember something thats not happened yet. In the future.

like words on a bridge. Jumping off the cliff of your mind.

Its all made sense, don’t lie. I really wished you wouldn’t mind. Oh never you mind.

I hate how words make me feel. I hate how i hate.


Im losing it all. Am i making any sense?


Do you remember the time, that no one else does? How’s it been?


Nevermind the grammar.

It minds itself.

Like a tale told upon deaf ears. No one hears. No one listens.

Nobody seems to wonder. What lies beyond the great wide yonder.

Im sorry. That was lame.

Deep in thought, i squirm, like a child. Like a school girl shrill in shame.


The statics from the other room. They fell asleep. They paid no heed to me.

To my delusions, on which it feeds.

Of grandeur.

Like an ocean, of which it falls. Did you see it all?

Im sorry, im crude. my self indulgences wont let me get away, its lost, somewhere. In the blue.

Somewhere in all this i hope it made your day.


Maybe, you’d need to be in the same memory.

Listening to the same symphony, which all this while, has been playing secretly to me.

My masterpiece. Just for me.



I’m famous. You see. In my head.



It knows me better, than you might’ve read.

Yet. Its you i’m concerned about.

Lost somewhere past that round about, inside that tunnel, darker than an owls heart.

Between the clouds.

Its like the world had been weaved through. And congested, inside a funnel.


Condensed, pressured.


Pushed and smashed upon itself, like jagged rocks, forgotten between the sands of time.


My visions tunnel. They streamline.

They read whats has been inbound, and spat out, and left behind.

In the gutter of the deep dark crevices of your mind. Long forgotten.

Do you remember? Oh, nevermind.

I hope your space is as comfortable as mine. The warmness to the touch, the crisp of the sound.

Like that girl you once saw, and you wished you did call. Did you see her?

Oh just wherever has she gone. Did you just miss her?




I am that nobody you wished you’d have known.


A superstar you see. Somewhere deep in my own head.

Oh, hold the applause.




Did you see what i just saw? It was the light fantastic. Like slow motion daydreams. Hidden behind, that last column you didn’t bother to look behind.


What was the point in this all? Didn’t you see? It’s my magnum opus. Played silently.


On a muted bass. Through broken speakers.

Did you miss me? I did. Look. Here i am. In these lines. Right here. Just me. And just like that i’ve passed you by.

And so did the rabbit.

Who long ago made of with the queen, the crumpet, and the entire plot at its seams.

Do you see whats in between?


Do you hear the same dirty, old, queasy, cheesy music as i do in my head ?

Its on loop.

Its whats been playing the whole week through.

Its Mexican.

Its my playlist, so i really do hope you wouldn’t mind.



Im that whore, you wished you were more like.




You remember that time, when the world ended? What happened?



Do you Remember when you read, and when i wrote that first line?




A conundrum, don’t you think?

No why wouldn’t you?




Im sorry, i’ve seemed to have let my mind run free. I really wonder where its has gone to be.



I stared myself in the mirror just to see who would win.

I smiled, he laughed. It was the light fantastic.

Now why am i still thinking of that silly old rabbit.

Its my reality he seems to be messing with.



Don’t you know who i think i am really?



I’m better than you, i’m me. Oh matter of factly.



Did you see how i just made that all rhyme?

And you wonder what i was doing with all my time.



i’ll stop now, because i don’t think you can stand any more of this.

And its also because i need another cigarette.



Remember, just do, even if you really wished you knew.

That time when the whole world, just stopped. Like ended.

In the darkness of night it gave birth. To a pause of time, like this word.

In its nothingness.


Its rubbish. Its dribble.


Oh, wait. Cant you see?

Oh, wait.

Oh well. Nevermind.

Smile. Exhale.


Stop looking for whats behind these lines. Like the point, its lost, eroded away like a cavity burnt away in memory.
Oh would you please just look at me.

I’m a superstar you see. Dont you just love me?


I’ve climbed that tree in the forest of your forgotten memory. I’m looking for that treasure you know you wished you could find.
Oh where oh where could it be??


Another star just blinked. It glittered. It shimmered.

It exploded beyond your wildest imagination.

Burning brighter than you could ever dream to see.


You remember that point in time, that week, that you breathed in, inhaled, and you wished you were here?

Was it any better?

Where’s that damned cigarette.....


Fuck the universe. No seriously.




Life is beautiful. Its magik. Its supposed to be spelt that way.



Nevermind me. Im hardly worth the pun.

Now where oh where is that thing you keep calling fun?

Never you mind, no matter. What is mind? Oh wait, please don’t bother.

What is bother?

Oh wait, nevermind. Am i boring you yet?




I’m my own greatest fan. Look who’s here.its me!!!!!

Am i going too fast, that you hardly remember?


Its just that time of year again. That shift. In November.



Do you hear me inside your head? Don’t you wish you could be me instead?


I seem to wish a lot, doesn’t it seem?


Do you remember where that road upon once you did go, and from where did it once came?

Or was it all, just like now.

Just the same.




Cant you hear it? Its my magnum opus god damned it!


Would you believe it. Inside here, in this weathered head. Everyones a critic.


Now i really think i should get some sleep. I’m beginning to sound quite eratic.


Do you hear me across all that static? nevermind whats in your head.

It does indeed seem like a conundrum doesn’t it?

And you wondered where it was all going to end.

And all this while i’ve been thinking of that called i wished i made.

But now its all flowed out . wasted. Like urine. On the floor.



I think i should go now. Its getting early. Im tired. And i think theres something better on tv.


Do you get good reception in your head? Maybe you should change the frequency.

Its like talkshows on mute. The perfect morning, slept through.



I was that guy you thought you knew.

That somebody, that never was.

And long forgotten, just like you.




I’m really wishing for that last cigarette. Its going to be epic, You see. An explosion all inside this brain of mine.


Here’s that ending you were looking for when you started reading at the beginning.


Does it really matter if it all made sense?

Did it rhyme?

Oh wait, oh well, OH. NEVERMIND.

Oh by the way, do make sure, oh wait, reverse.

Never mind the static, don’t panic. I cant stop myself, help. Can you hear those little birds chirp?


I’m a friggin genius you see. In my twisted silly universe.



Its morning outside. Oh wont you please come out and play.

Labels:



...and the madness rambled on at 9:26 PM
|




Nightmares and Premonitions

Thursday, October 8, 2009



The Taste of Sound.
Soundgarden - Black hole sun.


And a three limbed monkey, bouncing on a pogo stick with needles in its arms, horn-rimmed glasses and thick scraggly beard and all, prophesized "I'd die where i stand". i obviously believe him.

Labels:



...and the madness rambled on at 10:14 PM
|




The room without a view.



The Taste of Sound.
John Mayer - Gravity

woke up one morning, and all my stuff was gone. that's what you get for waking up in Jatinangor. I was robbed. a sneakishly deviant imp had entered my room through the window, and had made off with a whole bag full of loot.

Add to all he stole, the fact that I've now become increasingly neurotic and am not able to sleep at night even if i wanted to, and would probably wake up every 15 minutes or so just to check whet er the windows are not open, or if my phone and laptop are still intact. lack of sleep and insurmountable amounts of lab work is a stupendously bad cocktail just in case you're wondering.

Now on top of all of that, what irks me the most, is the fact, that of all the things he stole, he's stolen my view. I used to have an amazing view that overlooked gree paddy fields, blue cloudy skies on certain days and where fresh air just looms just beyond the windowsill. Now all i have are grills. Ugly brown, badly painted grills.

So while, you've made off with all my stuff Mr.robber, and while you're messing around with my old laptop and wondering why the battery doesn't work, or if you re spending all the monies you've made from all your ill gotten gains, i just hope you choke, just a little bit more. oh who am i kidding. i hope you suffocate.
thanks for not stealing kratos by the way.

Labels:



...and the madness rambled on at 9:09 PM
|




Of Yellow Moons and Dirty Rooms.

Friday, September 11, 2009



The Taste of Sound.
Ryan Adams - Nobody Girl


The randomness of thought through liners. first posting on a brand spanking new blog. been idle for the last two odd years or so. never got around to completing it. internet is finally somewhat functional. bored. has a lot to do, but, nevermind. cant seem to sleep. as usual. room's still a mess. haven't got around to cleaning it yet. the lava lamp is set up though. yes, thats whats important. cant seem to be able to do anything really. bored. probably will regret this by tomorrow. but the blog is finally up. heh.

watched thundercats today. felt very nostalgic. theres a small puppy hanging around the hostel. its brown with white spots on its paws. fed it milk and cookies. wonders if it will continue to be around in the morning. oh wells.

first post on a brand new blog site. wonders whatever happened to the old site. oh well.

nevermind.

Labels:



...and the madness rambled on at 1:56 AM
|