Category Archives: Weepy Saturdays

2017 for 2017, 194-200:

Cusp between days
Threshold of hours
meeting point of
yesterday and tomorrow

 

where today
can possibly
disappear


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Heaven Is One Badass Better Now: RIP Beastie Boys’ Adam Yauch aka MCA

The thing about childhood heroes is that because they’re made of such awesome badassery, one is led to believe they’d actually live forever.

Death can be such a bitch.

But I get that now. That it’s such a hoot to live, and to die even more so. It’s a good thing you Beasties have taught me that I should chase after all the sick fun and ill adventures available to mankind. You’ve taught me to delight in danger and revel in ridicule. And how to be cool with a cause. Especially you, Adam Yauch.

 

Farewell MCA, your voice lingers on. You’re a testament to the kind of  badass that the world can surely learn from. It’s time to shake things up at the pearly white gates, make some noise from above the clouds. We hear you. 

 

Pass me the scalpel / I’ll make an incision / I’ll cut off the part of your brain that does the bitchin’ / Put it in formaldehyde and put it in the shelf / And you can show it to your friends and say, ‘That’s my old self.'”

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365 for 2012: (39) Before Sunrise

There’s no certainty.

I’m waiting with my senses.

Breathing in the dark.

There’s always something about being the one at the waiting end. Oh these things we subject ourselves to. I did write about this before.

So, after all the waiting, what do you get in the end?

 

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365 for 2012: (38) Left Unsaid

Don’t say anything.

We’ll let the universe speak.

It knows our heartbeat.

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Paradox and Paradise

In a letter I wrote to a friend, I talk about how the concept of emptiness gives such a negative connotation to the actual beginning of things. The reason why  Nothing and Absence is often associated with an agonizing sense of lack is because too much emphasis is given on What Should Be There and Presence.  If only we learned to take things as they are, we would be able to overcome Loss painlessly precisely because Loss as a concept would cease to exist in itself.  

There was nothing to lose to begin with because there was only Nothing in the beginning. 

The song is an appendage to the thought. It is not the point of the post but maybe necessary to the mood and feeling. It could stand on its own, it can also be done without.

 

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Beam Me Up Major Tom

Last Saturday, I asked the universe for tickets to the moon.

Saturdays have become my “weepy days” these past few weeks. Aside from allowing myself to wake up any hour I pleased and spend doing stuff weekdays prohibit me from doing, my Saturdays have been bookmarked for giving in to sentimentality. But no weeping happened to me this last Saturday, just a fixation for the moon.

This was after I stumbled upon the new album Le Voyage Dans La Lune of  French electronica duo, Air (which is actually an acronym for Amour, Imagination, Rêve) .  The album was inspired by George Melies’s A Trip To The Moon (1902) the first science fiction film ever made. Because, basically, the duo was asked to make a score for the restored colour version of the film! And this happened 15 years after they came out with Moon Safari. Serendipitous, really.

I’ve always thought of Melies as true magician, being the inventor of film effects such as time-lapse, dissolves, and stop-tricks. Well, guess what? He did practice a little bit of magic. Fascinating.

And then I also went a little nostalgic because it all reminded me of  Smashing Pumpkin’s ‘Tonight, Tonight’.

I kind of grew fixated with the idea of travelling to outerspace then that day.

And now, it  is Monday. But I still can’t get over flying away.

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Charles Bukowski’s Blue Bird

Animation by Monika Umba

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jsc3ItAKSLc

Bluebird
Charles Bukowski

there’s a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I’m too tough for him,
I say, stay in there, I’m not going
to let anybody see
you.

there’s a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I pur whiskey on him and inhale
cigarette smoke
and the whores and the bartenders
and the grocery clerks
never know that
he’s
in there.

there’s a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I’m too tough for him,
I say,
stay down, do you want to mess
me up?
you want to screw up the
works?
you want to blow my book sales in
Europe?

there’s a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I’m too clever, I only let him out
at night sometimes
when everybody’s asleep.
I say, I know that you’re there,
so don’t be
sad.
then I put him back,
but he’s singing a little
in there, I haven’t quite let him
die
and we sleep together like
that
with our
secret pact
and it’s nice enough to
make a man
weep, but I don’t
weep, do
you?

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