"I'm gone, you're still there so
I will head out alone,
hope for the best
and we'll pat ourselves on the back and say that we tried.
But you and I--
Well you're the reason why I'm gone."
-Rachel Yamagata

I NEED A BAND AND I NEED ONE NOW.
COME ON, WHO WANTS TO BE OBSCURE WITH ME?
COME ON, COME ON!

I feel as though posting that video before gave me bad karma, so here goes.

You said, "I will go to another land, I will go to another sea.
Another city will be found, a better one than this.
Every effort of mine is a condemnation of fate;
and my heart is -- like a corpse -- buried.
How long will my mind remain in this wasteland.
Wherever I turn my eyes, wherever I may look
I see black ruins of my life here,
where I spent so many years destroying and wasting."

You will find no new lands, you will find no other seas.
The city will follow you. You will roam the same
streets. And you will age in the same neighborhoods;
and you will grow gray in these same houses.
Always you will arrive in this city. Do not hope for any other --
There is no ship for you, there is no road.
As you have destroyed your life here
in this little corner, you have ruined it in the entire world.

-Constatine P. Cavafy

"And so they come back, those girls who painted
the watch dials luminous and died.

They come back and their hands glow and their lips
and hair and their footprints gleam in the past like alien snow.

It was as if what shone in them once had broken free
and burned through the cotton of their lives.

And I want to know this: how they came to believe
that something so beautiful could ever have turned out right,

but though they open their mouths to answer me,
all I can hear is light."

-John Glenday

What do you see in the blink of an eye
What can you find when your heart can decide
Not knowing how to describe what's inside
Oh, show what you got, let it out as you feel

Scared to go on, afraid of what people say
No time for that, just step out towards your way
How would you say, you're reborn on this day?
It's much more so easy than you think inside your head

Released passion flows where it's destined to go
No matter the hurdle, it jumps to the goal
Feel how the energy takes over you?
No time to waste, now a new day begins

Dreams are for ones that believe in the soul
Who has the courage to carry it all
Make it come true, what's the point of being scared
Now is the time, won't you let it out?

You'll make it in the end, yes, that's for sure
The power is in your heart

I'm too bored for this.

For Carl Morse

When the call comes, be calm.
Say to your wife, "My brother is dying. I have to fly
to California."
try not to be shocked that he already looks like
a cadaver.
Say to the young man sitting by your brother's side,
"I'm his brother."
Try not to be shocked when the young man says,
"I'm his lover. Thanks for coming."

Listen to the doctor with a steel face on.
Sign the necessary forms.
Tell the doctor you will take care of everything.
Wonder why doctors are so remote.

Watch the lover's eyes as they stare into
your brother's eyes as they stare into
space.
Wonder what they see there.
Remember the time he was jealous and
opened your eyebrow with a sharp stick.
Forgive him out loud
even if he can't
understand you.
Realize the scar will be
all that's left of him.

Over coffee in the hospital cafeteria
say to the lover, "You're an extremely good-looking
young man."
Hear him say,
"I never thought I was good enough looking to
deserve your brother."

Watch the tears well up in his eyes. Say,
"I'm sorry. I don't know what it means to be
the lover of another man."
Hear him say,
"Its just like a wife, only the commitment is
deeper because the odds against you are so much
greater."
Say nothing, but
take his hand like a brother's.

Drive to Mexico for unproven drugs that might
help him live longer.
Explain what they are to the border guard.
Fill with rage when he informs you,
"You can't bring those across."
Begin to grow loud.
Feel the lover's hand on your arm
restraining you. See in the guard's eye
how much a man can hate another man.
Say to the lover, "How can you stand it?"
Hear him say, "You get used to it."
Think of one of your children getting used to
another man's hatred.

Call your wife on the telephone. Tell her,
"He hasn't much time.
I'll be home soon." Before you hang up say,
"How could anyone's commitment be deeper than
a husband and a wife?" Hear her say,
"Please. I don't want to know all the details."

When he slips into an irrevocable coma,
hold his lover in your arms while he sobs,
no longer strong. Wonder how much longer
you will be able to be strong.
Feel how it feels to hold a man in your arms
whose arms are used to holding men.
Offer God anything to bring your brother back.
Know you have nothing God could possible want.
Curse God, but do not
abandon Him.

Stare at the face of the funeral director
when he tells you he will not
embalm the body for fear of
contamination. Let him see in your eyes
how much a man can hate another man.

Stand beside a casket covered in flowers,
white flowers. Say,
"thank you for coming," to each of seven hundred men
who file past in tears, some of them
holding hands. Know that your brother's life
was not what you imagined. Overhear two
mourners say, "I wonder who'll be next?" and
"I don't care anymore,
as long as it isn't you."

Arrange to take an early flight home.
His lover will drive you to the airport.
When your flight is announced say,
awkwardly, "If I can do anything, please
let me know." Do not flinch when he says,
"Forgive yourself for not wanting to know him
after he told you. He did."
Stop and let it soak in. Say,
"He forgave me, or he knew himself?"
"Both," the lover will say, not knowing what else
to do. Hold him like a brother while he
kisses you on the cheek. Think that
you haven't been kissed by a man since
your father died. Think,
"This is no moment to be strong."

Fly first class and drink Scotch. Stroke
your split eyebrow with a finger and
think of your brother alive. Smile
at the memory and think
how your children will feel in your arms
warm and friendly and without challenge.

-Michael Lassel

http://www.cosmosmagazine.com/node/1277

This stuff is crazy!

"If I speak in the tongues of men and angels, but have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge, and if I have faith, so as to remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing, If I give away all I have, and if I deliver my body to be burned, but have not love, I gain nothing.

Love is patient and kind; love is not jealous or boastful; it is not arrogant or rude. Love does not insist on its own way; it is not arrogant or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrong, but rejoices in the right. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends.

So faith, hope, love abide, these three; but greatest of these is love."

In case you missed it, President Obama's Victory Speech:

"If there is anyone out there who still doubts that America is a place where all things are possible; who still wonders if the dream of our founders is alive in our time; who still questions the power of our democracy, tonight is your ( answer. )"

Come on, California. With all the awesome that just skyrocketed into the sparkling cavern of history, did you have to fuck up on this?

http://www.sfgate.com/election/races/2008/11/04/CA/c/i_proposition/i_1_8_same_sex_marriage_ban/g_ballot_issue/c/california.shtml?tsp=1

*Headdesk*

THE INCIDENTS AND CHARACTERS
PORTRAYED IN THIS MOTION PICTURE
ARE PURELY FICTIONAL AND ANY
SIMILARITY TO ACTUAL OCCURRENCES
AND LIVING OR DECEASED PERSONS IS
COINCIDENTAL.

FORWARD: The motion picture you are
about to witness may startle you .
It would not have been possible
otherwise, to sufficiently
emphasize the frightful toll of the
new drug menace which is destroying
the youth of America in alarmingly
increasing numbers. Marihuana is
that drug -- a violent narcotic --
an unspeakable scourge -- The Real
Public Enemy Number One !

Its first effect is sudden violent,
uncontrollable laughter, then come
dangerous hallucinations -- space
expands -- time slows down, almost
stands still.... fixed ideas come
next, conjuring up monstrous
extravagances


-- followed by emotional
disturbances, the total inability
to direct thoughts, the loss of all
power to resist physical emotions
leading finally to acts of shocking
violence ... ending often in
incurable insanity.

In picturing its soul- destroying
effects no attempt was made to
equivocate. The scenes and
incidents, while fictionized for
the purposes of this story, are
based upon actual research into the
results of Marihuana addiction. If
their stark reality will make you
think, will make you aware that
something must be done to wipe out
this ghastly menace, then the
picture will not have failed in its
purpose.

Because the dread Marihuana may be
reaching forth next for your son or
daughter ...or yours ... or YOURS!

"Hello you long shots, you dark horse runners, hairbrush singers, dashboard drummers. Hello you wild magnolias just waiting to bloom. There's a little bit of all that inside of me and you thank God even crazy dreams come true.

I stood at the bottom of some walls I thought I couldn't climb, I felt like Cinderella at the ball just running out of time. So I know how it feels to be afraid. Think that it's all gonna slip away. Hold on, hold on

Here's to you free souls, you firefly chasers, tree climbers, porch swingers, air guitar players. Here's to you fearless dancers, shaking walls in your bedrooms. There's a lot of wonder left inside of me and you. Thank God even crazy dreams come true. Never let a bad day be enough to go and talk you in to giving up. Sometimes everybody feels like you. I've met some go-getters, some difference makers, small town heroes, and big chance takers. I've met some young hearts with something to prove."

-Carrie Underwood

The first gesture is despair
because the snowdrops
have fled and the cold
came back anyway. You
are far from your love
and you will be nothing
but the space between
the hand and what it is
accustomed to grasping.
The first gesture is cold
but the rain still comes
down and like the rain
you lean your head down
on someone's shoulder
because it is too heavy for
you to carry by yourself.
Outside the boys are like
flowers and the flowers
are like boys because they
don't give what they say.
All the evening flowers
are coffins bursting with
possibility. Why not pick
one, why not let your
sorrow sink into the dirt
where it will die? The first
gesture is the hope that it
will die before you will
or that you will learn to
read it like a book. Come
read, come to the flower
beds and the mowed-down
fields where the heads of
yellow soldiers burst in
the grass. If anyone ever
gave you something, that
gesture of fading beauty
was the first sign that
the price of generosity
is the flower that would
rather not be ripped from
its heart. Come read all
the flowers: they were
printed here just for you.
Come read your heart
which has shriveled
into a flower receding
before night. If the sun
ever will come back here
the first thing you'll do is
reach right out to touch it
-Joseph Campana

I genuinely feel this has changed me.