Oh, and my blog's getting kinda big... Almost two years running! Anyways, my brain is not a numbers brain when I'm not focused on math, making the archive format a visual horror to my eyes, and since my posts tend to be long the main page has been getting uber long as well. So I made a few little changes.
The archive format is now monthly, not weekly (good luck finding the post you want within that month, but the stupid weekly format kept confusing me with the way dates were posted). And the main page has the last five posts instead of the last seven days. And I'll probably end up fiddling with it some more.
Although really this is all a moot point, since nobody reads old entries but me anyways.
But thought I'd mention it.
Lah.
Saturday, July 22, 2006
A Cold and a Broken Hallelujah
Yeah, a joyful title, I know... But it refers to a song you've probably heard, unless you're one of the two people on Earth you haven't seen Shrek. Yeah, I'm lookin' at you.
But yes. It's called Hallelujah, by Rufus Wainwright. And ever since I first heard it many years ago, I've been in love with the song. It's one of those songs that makes you just close your eyes and sing from your heart with tears in your eyes. Remember Sixpence's Kiss Me? Yeah, one like that. But a little sadder.
I've heard there was a secret chord
That David played, and it pleased the Lord
But you don't really care for music, do you?
It goes like this
The fourth, the fifth
The minor fall, the major lift
The baffled king composing Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Your faith was strong but you needed proof
You saw her bathing on the roof
Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you
She tied you to a kitchen chair
She broke your throne, and she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah...
Maybe I've been here before
I know this room, I've walked this floor
I used to live alone before I knew you
I've seen your flag on the marble arch
Love is not a victory march
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah...
There was a time
You let me know
What's real and going on below
But now you never show it to me, do you?
And remember when I moved in you?
The holy dark was moving too
And every breath we drew was Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah...
Maybe there's a god above
And all I ever learned from love
Was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you
And it's not a cry you can hear at night,
It's not somebody who's seen the light
It's cold and it's a broken Hallelujah
Hallelujah...
--
Hallelujah, indeed. Isn't that just the perfect metaphor for Love? The colder, darker side, perhaps, but still amazing. And cold or broken, it's still a Hallelujah. A call to the highest vibration in your soul.
Do I repeat this ideal too much? I don't think so. It's still as gorgeous a thing, no matter how times you describe it.
Fine then. I'll stop expostulating the virtues of Love above all things and talk about imagery. That's another reason I love this song... I can see every word, including Rufus Wainwright's pain, his broken heart still beating. He starts off singing about a third person, then singing to himself as another... then finally bringing it home. It's him that got cut down.
And after the final chords of the song have died away, and you're lying there with almost nonexistant tears in your eyes... you can remember how it felt to Love, the reason why you loved, with Norah Jones' Come Away With Me. Come away with me where they can't taint us with their lies... Back to the place where only each other existed. Or back even further, to the wish and the hope that lay before, with Kiss Me. Or if you're not wanting to come back from that sad trip yet, maybe Lacuna Coil's Falling Again. And while that isn't a love song, it does a pretty good job of summing up my mood after that cold and broken Hallelujah. Just wanting to feel good? Bob Marley's I Can See Clearly Now, or maybe Shaggy's Keeping It Real. Or just anything by India.Arie.
Back to the real world? My life. If you're wondering what happened to the Frenchified Lost Entry, I chickened out a few days and hid it too, although it's much less further back than the original. Maybe I'll post it back eventually. Maybe not. So if you want to know about my own cold and broken Hallelujah, you'll have to work for it. And if you don't want to do that then I guess you don't really deserve to know, now do you?
Sound logic.
Mm. Talking to Davo, as usual. Was a tad irritated him at him for a few days after the Stampede, but it faded. What happened at the Stampede, you ask? Well, we went down a few days ago (wow, was it last Friday already?) and chilled, before going to see Our Lady Peace. Did I already talk about this? I'll check.
No, I didn't. Wait, I talked about it in the Lost Entry, I think. Not everything in that entry was a touchy subject.
So yes. The show was quite good, although we lost the people we were supposed to be meeting. One song in particular (not that I know what it was) was amazing... the lead dude climbed all the rigging and was at the top top of the stage. "I don't know how I'm going to get down," he stated. "But I have faith. My bandmembers'll help me. I'll get down somehow." And then, perched up there far above our heads, he started to sing. The sun's coming back up, or something similar. And after talking a little, and singing a little, he moved back towards the rigging, still singing. And as his voice and the crowd rose in energy (even the mosh paused a few moments), he climbed down. And that chorus came up again just as he was reaching the bottom.
Simple moments of beauty.
But yes. After that, there was le encore, since I think that was close to the last song. And for the encore, I manoeuvered forward with Becca and Davo holding on close behind. By the end, we were dead center and front. And when the final end came, and I turned to smile at Becs and Davo... Davo wasn't there. Becca had lost him, she explained. Since he was the main OLP fan, I was kinda disappointed he'd been lost.
Twenty minutes later, after Becs and I searched high and low and couldn't find him anywhere, both of us were a little more than disappointed. We were worried. The lead dude was out talking to people at the place where we assumed Dave'd been telling us about, but he wasn't there. An hour later, after many frantic cell phone calls and a shitload of worrying, Becca had no choice but to leave with her family. And I was left with no ride home, and no friends, period. And to make things worse, I was starting to get sick from being hungry (long story made short, if I don't eat often I get nauseous and headaches and other unpleasant stuff) but hadn't gotten a chance to eat. So I finally was giving up and heading towards the concessions when who do I see trailing behind the crowd of people we'd lost before the show, walking in the opposite direction?
And supremely unconcerned about the whole situation, he was. Hadn't checked his cell or even bothered to leave a message on Becs'. His 'group'? Just eaten. Didn't want to go on rides, so our horrendously overpriced rides-bracelets were wasted. And he claimed that we were leaving too soon for me to run and grab food for myself.
To be fair, I don't think he realized exactly how shitty a time Becs and I had looking for him. And I'm pretty sure he was buzzed over the show and the... er... 'smoky' air. But hey, whatever his reasons, he had a great day. He deserves it. Me? Well, call me a dweller, but personally my night was kinda ruined after that. Especially after my mother scummed me out on the ride home from his house.
So yes. Long story. The gist? I was irritated for a while. Why am I talking about it if I'm not bothered by it anymore? Doth the lady protest too much? Well, the whole thing still needed to be exorcised, lest the vague resentment resurface later. I'm not trying to overly protest; I'm just trying to make the point that it happened and it's done and whatever.
Random topic change.
I burned two arrows into my arm with arrow-shaped ice and salt. The original iceburn, back for more. The first one, on the upper arm facing down into me elbow, didn't come out much. It's just the three points and a bit of the stem that show. But I like it because it's abstract. The one facing up? I not only held it until my skin was frozen solid, I rubbed salt into it afterwards.
Why do I do these things? Why did I scratch myself until I bled over and over a few months back? Not just because of the Beauty in the Madness. That excuse can only be used once or twice, not over and over again.
Partly because I love scars, I know. And I love sores and cuts and burns and such while they're healing. But why? I'm not sure. Just like I'm not sure why I love piercings and pain so much. My mother asks me sarcastically if I really think it looks attractive, with the obvious answer being a dubious 'no'. But truly? Yes, I do. To me, at least. Will I regret it? Probably, although it's been four years or more since I started, and I don't regret it yet.
No regrets, my New Year's Resolution a year or two ago, remember?
Still.
And is it wrong to want a tattoo partly for the unique sensation of a needle flashing in and out of your body over and over?
But only partly for that reason.
Okay, this entry has obviously taken a turn for the darker.
So I shall end this entry, with India.Arie's "Strength, Courage and Wisdom" playing. Kind of a counterpoint, I suppose.
I was gonna only post a couple of lines from the song, but it's so great I'm forced to post the whole thing.
Inside my head there lives a dream
That I want to see in the sun
Behind my eyes there lives a me
That I've been hiding for much too long
'Cause I've been, too afraid to let it show
'Cause I'm scared of the judgment that may follow
Always putting off my living for tomorrow
It's time to step out on faith
I've gotta show my faith
It's been elusive for so long
But freedom is mine today
I've gotta step out on faith
It's time to show my faith
Procrastination had me down
But look what I have found, I found
Strength, courage, and wisdom
And it's been inside of me all along,
Strength, courage, and wisdom
Inside of me
Behind my pride there lives a me,
That knows humility
Inside my voice there is a soul
And in my soul there is a voice
But I've been, too afraid to make a choice
'Cause I'm scared of the things that I might be missing
Running too fast to stop and listen
It's time to step out on faith
I've gotta show my faith
It's been elusive for so long
But freedom is mine today
I've gotta step out on faith it's time to show my faith
Procrastination had me down
But look what I have found, I found
Strength, courage, and wisdom
And it's been inside of me all along,
Strength, courage, and wisdom
Inside of me
I close my eyes and I think of all the things
That I want to see
'Cause I know
Now that I've opened up my heart I know that
Anything I want can be
So let it be, so let it be:.
Strength, courage, and wisdom
It's been inside of me all along,
Strength, courage, wisdom
It's been inside of me all along,
Everyday I'm praying for:
Strength, courage, and wisdom
To find me, yeah,
Strength, courage, and wisdom
Inside of me
Vamp
I found it in me, I found it finally
I'm sure to keep it' cause I like it,
I say thank you.
Lah.
But yes. It's called Hallelujah, by Rufus Wainwright. And ever since I first heard it many years ago, I've been in love with the song. It's one of those songs that makes you just close your eyes and sing from your heart with tears in your eyes. Remember Sixpence's Kiss Me? Yeah, one like that. But a little sadder.
I've heard there was a secret chord
That David played, and it pleased the Lord
But you don't really care for music, do you?
It goes like this
The fourth, the fifth
The minor fall, the major lift
The baffled king composing Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Your faith was strong but you needed proof
You saw her bathing on the roof
Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you
She tied you to a kitchen chair
She broke your throne, and she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah...
Maybe I've been here before
I know this room, I've walked this floor
I used to live alone before I knew you
I've seen your flag on the marble arch
Love is not a victory march
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah...
There was a time
You let me know
What's real and going on below
But now you never show it to me, do you?
And remember when I moved in you?
The holy dark was moving too
And every breath we drew was Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah...
Maybe there's a god above
And all I ever learned from love
Was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you
And it's not a cry you can hear at night,
It's not somebody who's seen the light
It's cold and it's a broken Hallelujah
Hallelujah...
--
Hallelujah, indeed. Isn't that just the perfect metaphor for Love? The colder, darker side, perhaps, but still amazing. And cold or broken, it's still a Hallelujah. A call to the highest vibration in your soul.
Do I repeat this ideal too much? I don't think so. It's still as gorgeous a thing, no matter how times you describe it.
Fine then. I'll stop expostulating the virtues of Love above all things and talk about imagery. That's another reason I love this song... I can see every word, including Rufus Wainwright's pain, his broken heart still beating. He starts off singing about a third person, then singing to himself as another... then finally bringing it home. It's him that got cut down.
And after the final chords of the song have died away, and you're lying there with almost nonexistant tears in your eyes... you can remember how it felt to Love, the reason why you loved, with Norah Jones' Come Away With Me. Come away with me where they can't taint us with their lies... Back to the place where only each other existed. Or back even further, to the wish and the hope that lay before, with Kiss Me. Or if you're not wanting to come back from that sad trip yet, maybe Lacuna Coil's Falling Again. And while that isn't a love song, it does a pretty good job of summing up my mood after that cold and broken Hallelujah. Just wanting to feel good? Bob Marley's I Can See Clearly Now, or maybe Shaggy's Keeping It Real. Or just anything by India.Arie.
Back to the real world? My life. If you're wondering what happened to the Frenchified Lost Entry, I chickened out a few days and hid it too, although it's much less further back than the original. Maybe I'll post it back eventually. Maybe not. So if you want to know about my own cold and broken Hallelujah, you'll have to work for it. And if you don't want to do that then I guess you don't really deserve to know, now do you?
Sound logic.
Mm. Talking to Davo, as usual. Was a tad irritated him at him for a few days after the Stampede, but it faded. What happened at the Stampede, you ask? Well, we went down a few days ago (wow, was it last Friday already?) and chilled, before going to see Our Lady Peace. Did I already talk about this? I'll check.
No, I didn't. Wait, I talked about it in the Lost Entry, I think. Not everything in that entry was a touchy subject.
So yes. The show was quite good, although we lost the people we were supposed to be meeting. One song in particular (not that I know what it was) was amazing... the lead dude climbed all the rigging and was at the top top of the stage. "I don't know how I'm going to get down," he stated. "But I have faith. My bandmembers'll help me. I'll get down somehow." And then, perched up there far above our heads, he started to sing. The sun's coming back up, or something similar. And after talking a little, and singing a little, he moved back towards the rigging, still singing. And as his voice and the crowd rose in energy (even the mosh paused a few moments), he climbed down. And that chorus came up again just as he was reaching the bottom.
Simple moments of beauty.
But yes. After that, there was le encore, since I think that was close to the last song. And for the encore, I manoeuvered forward with Becca and Davo holding on close behind. By the end, we were dead center and front. And when the final end came, and I turned to smile at Becs and Davo... Davo wasn't there. Becca had lost him, she explained. Since he was the main OLP fan, I was kinda disappointed he'd been lost.
Twenty minutes later, after Becs and I searched high and low and couldn't find him anywhere, both of us were a little more than disappointed. We were worried. The lead dude was out talking to people at the place where we assumed Dave'd been telling us about, but he wasn't there. An hour later, after many frantic cell phone calls and a shitload of worrying, Becca had no choice but to leave with her family. And I was left with no ride home, and no friends, period. And to make things worse, I was starting to get sick from being hungry (long story made short, if I don't eat often I get nauseous and headaches and other unpleasant stuff) but hadn't gotten a chance to eat. So I finally was giving up and heading towards the concessions when who do I see trailing behind the crowd of people we'd lost before the show, walking in the opposite direction?
And supremely unconcerned about the whole situation, he was. Hadn't checked his cell or even bothered to leave a message on Becs'. His 'group'? Just eaten. Didn't want to go on rides, so our horrendously overpriced rides-bracelets were wasted. And he claimed that we were leaving too soon for me to run and grab food for myself.
To be fair, I don't think he realized exactly how shitty a time Becs and I had looking for him. And I'm pretty sure he was buzzed over the show and the... er... 'smoky' air. But hey, whatever his reasons, he had a great day. He deserves it. Me? Well, call me a dweller, but personally my night was kinda ruined after that. Especially after my mother scummed me out on the ride home from his house.
So yes. Long story. The gist? I was irritated for a while. Why am I talking about it if I'm not bothered by it anymore? Doth the lady protest too much? Well, the whole thing still needed to be exorcised, lest the vague resentment resurface later. I'm not trying to overly protest; I'm just trying to make the point that it happened and it's done and whatever.
Random topic change.
I burned two arrows into my arm with arrow-shaped ice and salt. The original iceburn, back for more. The first one, on the upper arm facing down into me elbow, didn't come out much. It's just the three points and a bit of the stem that show. But I like it because it's abstract. The one facing up? I not only held it until my skin was frozen solid, I rubbed salt into it afterwards.
Why do I do these things? Why did I scratch myself until I bled over and over a few months back? Not just because of the Beauty in the Madness. That excuse can only be used once or twice, not over and over again.
Partly because I love scars, I know. And I love sores and cuts and burns and such while they're healing. But why? I'm not sure. Just like I'm not sure why I love piercings and pain so much. My mother asks me sarcastically if I really think it looks attractive, with the obvious answer being a dubious 'no'. But truly? Yes, I do. To me, at least. Will I regret it? Probably, although it's been four years or more since I started, and I don't regret it yet.
No regrets, my New Year's Resolution a year or two ago, remember?
Still.
And is it wrong to want a tattoo partly for the unique sensation of a needle flashing in and out of your body over and over?
But only partly for that reason.
Okay, this entry has obviously taken a turn for the darker.
So I shall end this entry, with India.Arie's "Strength, Courage and Wisdom" playing. Kind of a counterpoint, I suppose.
I was gonna only post a couple of lines from the song, but it's so great I'm forced to post the whole thing.
Inside my head there lives a dream
That I want to see in the sun
Behind my eyes there lives a me
That I've been hiding for much too long
'Cause I've been, too afraid to let it show
'Cause I'm scared of the judgment that may follow
Always putting off my living for tomorrow
It's time to step out on faith
I've gotta show my faith
It's been elusive for so long
But freedom is mine today
I've gotta step out on faith
It's time to show my faith
Procrastination had me down
But look what I have found, I found
Strength, courage, and wisdom
And it's been inside of me all along,
Strength, courage, and wisdom
Inside of me
Behind my pride there lives a me,
That knows humility
Inside my voice there is a soul
And in my soul there is a voice
But I've been, too afraid to make a choice
'Cause I'm scared of the things that I might be missing
Running too fast to stop and listen
It's time to step out on faith
I've gotta show my faith
It's been elusive for so long
But freedom is mine today
I've gotta step out on faith it's time to show my faith
Procrastination had me down
But look what I have found, I found
Strength, courage, and wisdom
And it's been inside of me all along,
Strength, courage, and wisdom
Inside of me
I close my eyes and I think of all the things
That I want to see
'Cause I know
Now that I've opened up my heart I know that
Anything I want can be
So let it be, so let it be:.
Strength, courage, and wisdom
It's been inside of me all along,
Strength, courage, wisdom
It's been inside of me all along,
Everyday I'm praying for:
Strength, courage, and wisdom
To find me, yeah,
Strength, courage, and wisdom
Inside of me
Vamp
I found it in me, I found it finally
I'm sure to keep it' cause I like it,
I say thank you.
Lah.
Monday, July 17, 2006
A Note on the Lost Entry
Voice: What lost entry?
Weaver: If it were here, then it wouldn't be lost, now would it?
Voice: That's beside the point. Explain fully.
Weaver: Well, last night I was having a small upset, and felt the need to post. However, I didn't want anyone to READ said post, so I kinda misplaced it in the archives so that only those who want to read through every single old entry can find it.
Voice: And yet... you're telling us about it. Thus encouraging people to do so.
Weaver: You know how I am... I write to be heard. And I wasn't even talking to you on that one, so I feel like it'll never be heard.
Voice: So basically you're defeating yourself by being yourself.
Weaver: Something like that. But you see, I have a plan.
Voice: Uh oh.
Weaver: Hey! I have good plans sometimes!
Voice: *cough* Sometimes.
Weaver: Fine then, I won't tell you my plan.
Voice: Oh, please. Of course you will.
Weaver: Yeah... you're right... So... the plan. I shall post it, but I shall post it in FRENCH! Hence, only those who can read french will be able to understand it.
Voice: Need I point out the obvious holes in this plan? Such as online translators?
Weaver: Shush. I don't want to hear it. At the very least, this will keep me occupied for a little while, not to mention force me to brush up on my French skills. Oh, and Will? Shut up. I can hear your thoughts from all the way over here, before you even think them. Especially after you read this.
Lah.
Weaver: If it were here, then it wouldn't be lost, now would it?
Voice: That's beside the point. Explain fully.
Weaver: Well, last night I was having a small upset, and felt the need to post. However, I didn't want anyone to READ said post, so I kinda misplaced it in the archives so that only those who want to read through every single old entry can find it.
Voice: And yet... you're telling us about it. Thus encouraging people to do so.
Weaver: You know how I am... I write to be heard. And I wasn't even talking to you on that one, so I feel like it'll never be heard.
Voice: So basically you're defeating yourself by being yourself.
Weaver: Something like that. But you see, I have a plan.
Voice: Uh oh.
Weaver: Hey! I have good plans sometimes!
Voice: *cough* Sometimes.
Weaver: Fine then, I won't tell you my plan.
Voice: Oh, please. Of course you will.
Weaver: Yeah... you're right... So... the plan. I shall post it, but I shall post it in FRENCH! Hence, only those who can read french will be able to understand it.
Voice: Need I point out the obvious holes in this plan? Such as online translators?
Weaver: Shush. I don't want to hear it. At the very least, this will keep me occupied for a little while, not to mention force me to brush up on my French skills. Oh, and Will? Shut up. I can hear your thoughts from all the way over here, before you even think them. Especially after you read this.
Lah.
Monday, July 10, 2006
Grrrr.
Ach.
I can't even articulate words.
I am so fucking pissed off right now.
I-- It's just--
Fuck it.
I can't even articulate words.
I am so fucking pissed off right now.
I-- It's just--
Fuck it.
Saturday, July 08, 2006
Words of a Prophet.
I grew up listening to these songs of freedom.
Get up, stand up: stand up for your rights!
Get up, stand up: don't give up the fight!
Preacherman, don't tell me,
Heaven is under the earth.
I know you don't know
What life is really worth.
It's not all that glitters is gold;
'Alf the story has never been told:
So now you see the light, eh!
Stand up for your rights. Come on!
Get up, stand up: stand up for your rights!
Get up, stand up: don't give up the fight!
Most people think,
Great God will come from the skies,
Take away everything
And make everybody feel high.
But if you know what life is worth,
You will look for yours on earth:
And now you see the light,
You stand up for your rights. Jah!
Get up, stand up! (Jah, Jah!)
Stand up for your rights! (Oh-hoo!)
Get up, stand up! (Get up, stand up!)
Don't give up the fight! (Life is your right!)
Get up, stand up! (So we can't give up the fight!)
Stand up for your rights! (Lord, Lord!)
Get up, stand up! (Keep on struggling on!)
Don't give up the fight! (Yeah!)
We sick an' tired of-a your ism-skism game -
Dyin' 'n' goin' to heaven in-a Jesus' name, Lord.
We know when we understand:
Almighty God is a living man.
You can fool some people sometimes,
But you can't fool all the people all the time.
So now we see the light (What you gonna do?),
We gonna stand up for our rights! (Yeah, yeah, yeah!)
So you better:
Get up, stand up! (In the morning! Git it up!)
Stand up for your rights! (Stand up for our rights!)
Get up, stand up...
Hear the children cryin',
but I know they cry not in vain.
Now the times are changin';
love has come to bloom again.
Smelling the air when spring comes by raindrops
reminds us of youthful days.
But now it's not rain that water the cane crops,
but the sweat from man's brow;
the substance from our spine.
We gotta keep on living, living on borrowed time:
Hallelujah time!
Yes, you can hear the children singing: Hallelujah time!
As they go singing by and by: Hallelujah time!
Oh, "hallelujah" singing in the morning.
Hallelujah time! Let them sing; don't let them cry.
Over rocks and mountains
the sheep are scattered all around.
Over hills and valleys,
they are everywhere to be found.
But though we bear our burdens now,
All afflictions got to end somehow:
From swinging the hammer, pulling the plough.
Why won't you let us be, to live in harmony?
We like to be free like birds in a tree.
Hallelujah time! Yes, you can hear the children singing.
Hallelujah time! Yes, as they go singing by and by.
Hallelujah time! Oh "hallelujah" singing in the morning.
Let them sing; never let them cry.
Hallelujah time! "Hallelujah" singin' in the morning.
This last one is my favourite. The album it was on came out after they killed him; a final irony.
Old pirates, yes, they rob I;
Sold I to the merchant ships,
Minutes after they took I
From the bottomless pit.
But my hand was made strong
By the 'and of the Almighty.
We forward in this generation
Triumphantly.
Won't you help to sing
These songs of freedom? -
'Cause all I ever have:
Redemption songs;
Redemption songs.
Emancipate yourselves from mental slavery;
None but ourselves can free our minds.
Have no fear for atomic energy,
'Cause none of them can stop the time.
How long shall they kill our prophets,
While we stand aside and look? Ooh!
Some say it's just a part of it:
We've got to fulfil de book.
Won't you help to sing
These songs of freedom? -
'Cause all I ever have:
Redemption songs;
Redemption songs;
Redemption songs.
Emancipate yourselves from mental slavery;
None but ourselves can free our mind.
Wo! Have no fear for atomic energy,
'Cause none of them-a can-a stop-a the time.
How long shall they kill our prophets,
While we stand aside and look?
Yes, some say it's just a part of it:
We've got to fulfil de book.
Won't you help to sing
Dese songs of freedom? -
'Cause all I ever had:
Redemption songs -
All I ever had:
Redemption songs:
These songs of freedom,
Songs of freedom.
The more Man smoke Herb, the more Babylon fall.
Lah.
Get up, stand up: stand up for your rights!
Get up, stand up: don't give up the fight!
Preacherman, don't tell me,
Heaven is under the earth.
I know you don't know
What life is really worth.
It's not all that glitters is gold;
'Alf the story has never been told:
So now you see the light, eh!
Stand up for your rights. Come on!
Get up, stand up: stand up for your rights!
Get up, stand up: don't give up the fight!
Most people think,
Great God will come from the skies,
Take away everything
And make everybody feel high.
But if you know what life is worth,
You will look for yours on earth:
And now you see the light,
You stand up for your rights. Jah!
Get up, stand up! (Jah, Jah!)
Stand up for your rights! (Oh-hoo!)
Get up, stand up! (Get up, stand up!)
Don't give up the fight! (Life is your right!)
Get up, stand up! (So we can't give up the fight!)
Stand up for your rights! (Lord, Lord!)
Get up, stand up! (Keep on struggling on!)
Don't give up the fight! (Yeah!)
We sick an' tired of-a your ism-skism game -
Dyin' 'n' goin' to heaven in-a Jesus' name, Lord.
We know when we understand:
Almighty God is a living man.
You can fool some people sometimes,
But you can't fool all the people all the time.
So now we see the light (What you gonna do?),
We gonna stand up for our rights! (Yeah, yeah, yeah!)
So you better:
Get up, stand up! (In the morning! Git it up!)
Stand up for your rights! (Stand up for our rights!)
Get up, stand up...
Hear the children cryin',
but I know they cry not in vain.
Now the times are changin';
love has come to bloom again.
Smelling the air when spring comes by raindrops
reminds us of youthful days.
But now it's not rain that water the cane crops,
but the sweat from man's brow;
the substance from our spine.
We gotta keep on living, living on borrowed time:
Hallelujah time!
Yes, you can hear the children singing: Hallelujah time!
As they go singing by and by: Hallelujah time!
Oh, "hallelujah" singing in the morning.
Hallelujah time! Let them sing; don't let them cry.
Over rocks and mountains
the sheep are scattered all around.
Over hills and valleys,
they are everywhere to be found.
But though we bear our burdens now,
All afflictions got to end somehow:
From swinging the hammer, pulling the plough.
Why won't you let us be, to live in harmony?
We like to be free like birds in a tree.
Hallelujah time! Yes, you can hear the children singing.
Hallelujah time! Yes, as they go singing by and by.
Hallelujah time! Oh "hallelujah" singing in the morning.
Let them sing; never let them cry.
Hallelujah time! "Hallelujah" singin' in the morning.
This last one is my favourite. The album it was on came out after they killed him; a final irony.
Old pirates, yes, they rob I;
Sold I to the merchant ships,
Minutes after they took I
From the bottomless pit.
But my hand was made strong
By the 'and of the Almighty.
We forward in this generation
Triumphantly.
Won't you help to sing
These songs of freedom? -
'Cause all I ever have:
Redemption songs;
Redemption songs.
Emancipate yourselves from mental slavery;
None but ourselves can free our minds.
Have no fear for atomic energy,
'Cause none of them can stop the time.
How long shall they kill our prophets,
While we stand aside and look? Ooh!
Some say it's just a part of it:
We've got to fulfil de book.
Won't you help to sing
These songs of freedom? -
'Cause all I ever have:
Redemption songs;
Redemption songs;
Redemption songs.
Emancipate yourselves from mental slavery;
None but ourselves can free our mind.
Wo! Have no fear for atomic energy,
'Cause none of them-a can-a stop-a the time.
How long shall they kill our prophets,
While we stand aside and look?
Yes, some say it's just a part of it:
We've got to fulfil de book.
Won't you help to sing
Dese songs of freedom? -
'Cause all I ever had:
Redemption songs -
All I ever had:
Redemption songs:
These songs of freedom,
Songs of freedom.
The more Man smoke Herb, the more Babylon fall.
Lah.
"Let's Play Penis Hole-Digging!"
| (12:39 AM) Sayata - Who's c: | Have you ever had a penis fight? |
|---|---|
| (12:40 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | wahts that |
| (12:40 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | like a sword fight, but with penises? |
| (12:40 AM) | Sayata - Who's comin' to see Pirates II with me? has changed his/her name to "Sayata - PENIS FIGHT TIME!!!" |
| (12:41 AM) Sayata - PENIS F: | Yuppers |
| (12:43 AM) Sayata - PENIS F: | Man if I had a penis I'd have penis fights with everyone |
| (12:45 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | thats stupid |
| (12:45 AM) | Sayata - PENIS FIGHT TIME!!! has changed his/her name to "Sayata - PENIS FIGHT TIME!!! Just you, me, and a strap on." |
| (12:46 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | you'd need a boner, and you'd couldn't lose it |
| (12:46 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | fighting with a naked guy doesnt turn a guy on |
| (12:46 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | or at least half naked, fuck...thats gross |
| (12:46 AM) Sayata - PENIS F: | Yeah well that's what strap-ons are for. |
| (12:46 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | peh |
| (12:47 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | you think its all great and fun but whne you're a guy, the thought of a penis fight souds utterly retarded |
| (12:47 AM) Sayata - PENIS F: | Have a penis fight with a girl then |
| (12:47 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | maybe |
| (12:47 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | id rather play penis hole-digging though. if that were the case |
| (12:48 AM) Sayata - PENIS F: | Penis hole-digging? |
| (12:48 AM) Sayata - PENIS F: | Is that some kind of strange euphemism for sex? |
| (12:50 AM) Sayata - PENIS F: | Dig that hoeee!! |
| (12:50 AM) Sayata - PENIS F: | Errrr |
| (12:50 AM) Sayata - PENIS F: | Hole |
| (12:50 AM) Sayata - PENIS F: | Haha |
| (12:52 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | you have to see how quickly you can bob it in and out of the hole, and how deep you can go |
| (12:53 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | 10 points for hitting the g spot, 5 points for bobbing faster than the hole possessor can count aloud |
| (12:53 AM) | Sayata - PENIS FIGHT TIME!!! Just you, me, and a strap on. has changed his/her personal message to "PENIS FIGHT TIME!!! Just you, me, and a strap on." |
| (12:53 AM) | Sayata - PENIS FIGHT TIME!!! Just you, me, and a strap on. has changed his/her name to "Sayata - Let's play Penis Hole-Digging." |
| (12:53 AM) Sayata - Let's p: | Make that 25 points for hitting the g spot. |
| (12:54 AM) Sayata - Let's p: | Haha 5 points for quick insertion (it's harder than it looks, getting in the hole) |
| (12:54 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | k fine |
| (12:54 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | 25 |
| (12:54 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | hahaha |
| (12:54 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | "slam dunk" |
| (12:54 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | or as i say, slam dunk your junk |
| (12:54 AM) Sayata - Let's p: | Haha |
| (12:55 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | 20 points for keeping the hole dry for at least 2 minutes? |
| (12:55 AM) Sayata - Let's p: | 50. |
| (12:55 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | hahaha |
| (12:55 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | okay. |
| (12:55 AM) Sayata - Let's p: | Heh. |
| (12:56 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | heh heh |
| (12:56 AM) Sayata - Let's p: | And 100 points for... hm *searches for euphemism* |
| (12:56 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | thatd be my new fave sport by far. |
| (12:56 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | hmmmm |
| (12:58 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | bobbing multiple holes and hitting at least 2 g spots within a minute? |
| (12:58 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | along with clean, quick insertions. that would take skill. |
| (12:59 AM) Sayata - Let's p: | Multiple holes  |
| (12:59 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | indeed. |
| (12:59 AM) Sayata - Let's p: | Wait that's not the emoticon I was looking for |
| (12:59 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | what was, lol |
| (12:59 AM) Sayata - Let's p: |  |
| (12:59 AM) Sayata - Let's p: | There |
| (1:00 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | yes, insert, withdraw, pivot, insert, withdraw |
| (1:00 AM) Sayata - Let's p: | Ohhh THAT kind of multiple holes |
| (1:01 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | hit two jackpots in under a minute and kabam, 100 points. |
| (1:01 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | yes. |
| (1:01 AM) Sayata - Let's p: | Naw, that shouldn't be worth that much |
| (1:01 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | okay 50 again then. |
| (1:01 AM) Sayata - Let's p: | Now making the owner of the hole enjoy it, that should be worht 100 |
| (1:02 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | okay, so two thumbs up afterwards equals 100 pnts. |
| (1:03 AM) Sayata - Let's p: | Yessums. That's gonna be the one that shovellers get the least I bet |
| (1:03 AM) Sayata - Let's p: | Bitter? Me? Nooooo |
| (1:04 AM) Sayata - Let's p: | The trick is to prospect, then landscape... get the lay of the land. |
| (1:04 AM) Sayata - Let's p: | Pun definitely intended |
| (1:04 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | wow you lost me, but okay! |
| (1:04 AM) Sayata - Let's p: | Awww nevermind then |
| (1:05 AM) Sayata - Let's p: | I was getting too deep in the puns |
| (1:05 AM) Sayata - Let's p: | Heh it could become an Olympic sport |
| (1:06 AM) Sayata - Let's p: | We could call it Gold-digging  |
| (1:06 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | hahah |
| (1:06 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | i thought of that name |
| (1:06 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | 5 minutes ago |
| (1:06 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | but thought you might not agree |
| (1:06 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | but okay! |
| (1:06 AM) Sayata - Let's p: | Why wouldn't I agree? |
| (1:06 AM) Sayata - Let's p: | And haha you're way ahead of me |
| (1:07 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | mm i dont know. |
| (1:07 AM) | DaVo_.- .--->V.I. [[466-1107]] ... giving up is the easiest, yet hardest way out ... 17 in 5 days. has changed his/her name to "DaVo_.- .--->V.I. [[466-1107]] ... Okay everybody, its Gold-Diggin' time. ... 17 in 5 days." |
| (1:08 AM) | DaVo_.- .--->V.I. [[466-1107]] ... Okay everybody, its Gold-Diggin' time. ... 17 in 5 days. has changed his/her name to "DaVo_.- .--->V.I. [[466-1107]] ... Okay everybody, its Gold-Diggin' time. ... 17 in 4 days." |
| (1:08 AM) | Sayata - Let's play Penis Hole-Digging. has changed his/her name to "Sayata - Let's play Gold-digging!" |
| (1:09 AM) Sayata - Let's p: | Heh heh. |
| (1:09 AM) | Sayata - Let's play Gold-digging! has changed his/her name to "Sayata - Gold-Diggin' time!" |
| (1:09 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | "alright people, ready your shovels!" |
| (1:10 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | "hole-keepers, open up!" |
| (1:10 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | "remember to take a good, running start" |
| (1:11 AM) Sayata - Gold-Di: | Running start o.O |
| (1:11 AM) Sayata - Gold-Di: | Oh gods |
| (1:11 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | "grunting and yelling helps your muscles, therefore your shovel, be more effective" |
| (1:11 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | hahaha |
| (1:12 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | "a forceful dive into your holes is recommended" |
| (1:12 AM) Sayata - Gold-Di: | I'm still dying over the running start |
| (1:12 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | hahaha |
| (1:13 AM) Sayata - Gold-Di: | Woooooo caught my breath a little |
| (1:13 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | "if at any point your shovel breaks while madly being shoved into or out of a hole, you're fucked" |
| (1:14 AM) Sayata - Gold-Di: | No pun intended |
| (1:14 AM) Sayata - Gold-Di: | Oh sweet lord |
| (1:16 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | "but if so, please line up in front of the man holding the bloody axe with the line of chained prisoners behind him, to recieve a replacement." |
| (1:16 AM) Sayata - Gold-Di: | !!! |
| (1:16 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | "please refrain from watching the replacement process" |
| (1:17 AM) Sayata - Gold-Di: | Haha you'd need a seamstress |
| (1:17 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | ahaha |
| (1:18 AM) Sayata - Gold-Di: | Or a semenstress rather |
| (1:18 AM) Sayata - Gold-Di: | Ahhhh puns BAHAHAHA |
| (1:18 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | heh |
| (1:19 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | "if you wish to be upgraded to two or three shovels, an additional cost is required, and the upgrades should be delivered to you shortly" |
| (1:20 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | "remember to clean off well, green, brown, orange, black, and blue shovels are disfunctional and will not be helpful to competitors." |
| (1:21 AM) Sayata - Gold-Di: | ... |
| (1:21 AM) Sayata - Gold-Di: | ... |
| (1:21 AM) Sayata - Gold-Di: | ... |
| (1:21 AM) Sayata - Gold-Di: | *dies* |
| (1:22 AM) | Sayata - Gold-Diggin' time! has changed his/her personal message to "PENIS FIGHT!!! Just you, me, and a strap on." |
| (1:22 AM) | Sayata - Gold-Diggin' time! has changed his/her personal message to "PENIS FIGHT!!! Just you, me, and two strap-ons." |
| (1:23 AM) Sayata - Gold-Di: | I hurt from laughing too hard |
| (1:23 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | "holes must be properly cleaned, then inspected by the big fat bulging man over there, before play is begun!" |
| (1:23 AM) | Sayata - Gold-Diggin' time! has changed his/her name to "Sayata - Gold-Diggin' time! "if at any point your shovel breaks while madly being shoved into or out of a hole, you're fucked"" |
| (1:24 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | "and insertion of sharp objects into holes before play is forbidden" |
| (1:24 AM) Sayata - Gold-Di: | Sharp... ob...jects...? |
| (1:24 AM) Sayata - Gold-Di: | *squeezes eyes shut* |
| (1:24 AM) Sayata - Gold-Di: | OWWWW |
| (1:24 AM) Sayata - Gold-Di: | Then again, not as bad as your shovel breaking |
| (1:24 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | hahahaha |
| (1:24 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | hahahaha |
| (1:25 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | yes. |
| (1:25 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | "warming up on the holes is recommended, for maximum space and stretch during competition" |
| (1:26 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | "or the use of large objects on the holes before play" |
| (1:26 AM) Sayata - Gold-Di: | *image of small weight being attached to shovel and shovel moving up and down with it attached* |
| (1:26 AM) Sayata - Gold-Di: | Ohhh warming up the HOLES |
| (1:26 AM) Sayata - Gold-Di: | Heh heh heh... whoops... |
| (1:27 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | hahahah |
| (1:27 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | oh that too |
| (1:27 AM) | Sayata - Gold-Diggin' time! "if at any point your shovel breaks while madly being shoved into or out of a hole, you're fucked" is now Offline |
| (1:28 AM) | DaVo_.- .--->V.I. [[466-1107]] ... Okay everybody, its Gold-Diggin' time. ... 17 in 4 days. has signed-in (Busy) |
| (1:28 AM) | Sayata - Gold-Diggin' time! "if at any point your shovel breaks while madly being shoved into or out of a hole, you're fucked" is now Online |
| (1:28 AM) | DaVo_.- .--->V.I. [[466-1107]] ... Okay everybody, its Gold-Diggin' time. ... 17 in 4 days. has been added to the conversation. |
| (1:28 AM) | DaVo_.- .--->V.I. [[466-1107]] ... Okay everybody, its Gold-Diggin' time. ... 17 in 4 days. has left the conversation. |
| (1:28 AM) Sayata - Gold-Di: | Sorry net cut out |
| (1:28 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | "maximum shovel performance requires beforehand work outs, with weights, and using shovels to suspend one in the air while in a push-up position, helps to test its strength!" |
| (1:29 AM) Sayata - Gold-Di: | ... |
| (1:30 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | yup |
| (1:30 AM) Sayata - Gold-Di: | There's an image |
| (1:31 AM) Sayata - Gold-Di: | "Annnnnnd one more" |
| (1:31 AM) Sayata - Gold-Di: | *bends* |
| (1:31 AM) Sayata - Gold-Di: | *straightens* |
| (1:31 AM) Sayata - Gold-Di: | "YESSSS I AM KINGGG" |
| (1:31 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | hahaahah |
| (1:32 AM) Sayata - Gold-Di: | Kai says hi |
| (1:32 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | davo says eat cheese |
| (1:32 AM) Sayata - Gold-Di: | He's gone |
| (1:32 AM) Sayata - Gold-Di: | He came in, said to say hi, and left |
| (1:34 AM) | Sayata - Gold-Diggin' time! "if at any point your shovel breaks while madly being shoved into or out of a hole, you're fucked" has changed his/her name to "Sayata - I'd play Gold-Digging with you anytime!" |
| (1:34 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | "shovels should be sharpened before play" |
| (1:34 AM) Sayata - I'd pla: | Sharpened. |
| (1:34 AM) Sayata - I'd pla: | Sharpened? |
| (1:35 AM) Sayata - I'd pla: | SHARPENED??? |
| (1:35 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | yupz |
| (1:35 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | *shiiiinggg shhhiiinnngg puss puss...shiiiiinnng *blows*...mmmm" |
| (1:36 AM) Sayata - I'd pla: | 0.0 |
| (1:36 AM) Sayata - I'd pla: | *crosses legs* the holes would rebel |
| (1:37 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | oh, right, forgot that it would suck for the hole-possessor too. |
| (1:38 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | "shovels may be plunged forcefully once sharpened" |
| (1:38 AM) Sayata - I'd pla: | You're SICK |
| (1:38 AM) Sayata - I'd pla: | SICK SICK SICK |
| (1:38 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | yum yum yum |
| (1:38 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | jks. |
| (1:38 AM) Sayata - I'd pla: | Hahaha |
| (1:39 AM) Sayata - I'd pla: | Then again... "holes may be lined with teeth to heighten stakes" |
| (1:39 AM) Sayata - I'd pla: | And to keep the shovels inside |
| (1:39 AM) Sayata - I'd pla: | Like venus fly traps |
| (1:41 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | "shovellers may use a metal saw to further expand hole" |
| (1:42 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | ha |
| (1:43 AM) Sayata - I'd pla: | Now it's just getting cruel |
| (1:43 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | you started itt |
| (1:43 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | jokes. i did |
| (1:43 AM) Sayata - I'd pla: | At least you admit it! |
| (1:43 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | yup |
| (1:44 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | its been fun. till it got graphic and gruesome. |
| (1:44 AM) Sayata - I'd pla: | Yeah... |
| (1:44 AM) Sayata - I'd pla: | We have sick sick minds. And I don't mean dirty-like. |
| (1:45 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | pretty much. |
| (1:45 AM) | Sayata - I'd play Gold-Digging with you anytime! has changed his/her name to "Sayata - I'd play Gold-Digging with you anytime!" |
| (1:45 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | i told you i did haha. |
| (1:45 AM) | Sayata - I'd play Gold-Digging with you anytime! has changed his/her name to "Sayata - I'd play Gold-Digging with you anytime!" |
| (1:45 AM) Sayata - I'd pla: | You did? When? |
| (1:46 AM) Sayata - I'd pla: | And haha we rock |
| (1:46 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | chillin out. |
| (1:46 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | but yeah |
| (1:46 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | ima sleep so i can get over the burn ness faster...if possible |
| (1:46 AM) DaVo_.- .--->V.I: | night. |
| (1:46 AM) Sayata - I'd pla: | Gnight!! |
| (1:46 AM) Sayata - I'd pla: | Sleep tight... and don't let the bed bugs eat your shovel. |
Friday, July 07, 2006
On The Topic Of Lost Items.
Oh, and on a more mundane note.
I lost my bag today. Complete with cell phone and wallet. At work, no less. I don't know who in their right mind would steal it... it's dirty and has writing all over it and looks like it would never possibly contain anything of value. And usually it doesn't, either.
But yes.
Bah.
Grrr.
Ima look for it for a million hours tomorrow!
Lah.
I lost my bag today. Complete with cell phone and wallet. At work, no less. I don't know who in their right mind would steal it... it's dirty and has writing all over it and looks like it would never possibly contain anything of value. And usually it doesn't, either.
But yes.
Bah.
Grrr.
Ima look for it for a million hours tomorrow!
Lah.
Love As Thou Wilt.
Well, I don't know whether the book talk is this... but I certainly intend to talk about books. One in particular. And sadly, it will be without the input of the Voice.
I just finished reading a friend's blog. And ugh. I just want to hug him and beat up everyone who fucks him over, especially one specific someone. I mean, it's his birthday in a few days. And he deserves to have a great one, you know? But instead, it looks like he's gonna be swimming in shit. Upstream.
I don't know most of his friends. I only know them by reputation. But to me, it sounds like every one of them wants something from him. Except maybe his best friend. And especially that one special person he is besotted with. She likes his besottedness. She likes the attention. Does she actually give a flying fuck about him? I think not. Maybe a passing thought, but no more. I don't care what he says. I've known her a hell of a lot longer than he has.
Obsession, obsession. I could tell when she was online even before I had her on my MSN list because our conversations would suddenly go from rapid-fire responses to waiting a good 5-10 minutes for each response. Like right now, come to think of it. And I could almost smell the almost unconscious annoyance whenever I'd send a couple of messages one after the other, because he'd be having a convo with his belle and even that one little distraction (or several, depending how many other people were online) is an annoyance.
Why do twits have such power? To confuse and depress and tear apart relationships and friendships, to cause mood swings and irrational actions, all for supposed love? Not even of an amazing person, but for love of ... well... a twit.
Not that my friendships are beings destroyed by twits. The only way that the whole situation really bugs me is in how I can see it hurting my friend. And hey, I've been the one being hurt before. He really doesn't need the stress of friends' problems on top of his own.
The whole thing makes me think of the book I'm reading... Kushiel's Dart by Jacqueline Carey. I've read the entire series before, and I fell immediately in love. In fact, that's the premise of the entire world the book is built on: Love as thou wilt. The first and most important precept.
But what of this love? If indeed he truly loves her. I'm sorry... but I don't think so. It's an obsession, an infatu$ation... but love? Aside from the whole basic unlikelyhood of it all... I watch people. It's what I do, to enforce a cliche. And listening to him, talking to him... It's like a contradiction in motion. Except for his declarations (and obvious actions), it's like... I don't know how to explain. But patently obvious (to me at least) that's it not a deep emotion. An uber strong one, mayhap... but not a deep one. Even the fact that we can laugh and joke about twits and cows and such says a lot.
Love as thou wilt. But what of pain? Does it mean to love no matter what, to continue to love when there's no hope and the person hurts you as much as they bring you joy?
Of course, Phedre (the main character of Kushiel's Dart) is an anguissette... that means that she feels pleasure and pain as one. And man, does that make for a fucked up life, especially since she's a prostitute. And to make a long story short, that's not a bad thing in Terre d'Ange.
But yes. Back to the topic at hand. One thing I very much like about Phedre is that she sees herself clearly, with little dissembling. She also accepts herself, though she occasionally hates her nature. One thing that she admits and accepts, is love. Of course, her patrons hurt her. Literally, I mean. S &M cica, she is, because of the whole anguissette thing. Yet just as the pain is pleasure, she loves each of her patrons, at least a little bit.
I don't think that's just because she's an anguissette. I think that all of us love those who cause us pain, if only a little. Even if we don't admit it.
Which brings an even more disturbing question to light... mayhap part of the reason he loves her is because she hurts him? Now, before you all get on my case with the vehement objections, think about it. And I mean really thing about it, without automatically assuming the seemingly obvious response.
The opposite of Love isn't Hate. They're both such strong emotions, and they're really not all that different. They're both passion. Really, the opposite of both of them is indifference. It's easy to hurt someone who loves you, but nigh impossible to hurt someone who doesn't give a shit either way. But that's not the point I'm making here, since I already did that rant a year ago.
What I'm trying to say, in my own struggling way, is that since Love/Hate are so close, it's easy to confuse them. I hate everything about you... why do I love you? That song says it all. The heart holds no bounds. Love as thou wilt.
But then, I don't hate anyone. True, I have moments where I despise things, but I also have moments of absolute love. And the love moments outweight the hate ones.
Wandering away from the point again, sorry.
When you love someone or something, you give it power over you. Power to hurt you, power to manipulate you. You can hate it, a little, for that power. And hate? Well, to quote Angel, "hate feels good, doesn't it? Simple." Just feeling pure emotion is amazing, even if it's pure sorrow or hate. It's easy to become addicted to emotion. That's what depression is, I think. An addiction to negative emotion. Would anyone stay depressed if there wasn't some love it in? I don't think so. And yes, I've been there. I'm not crazy. I mean it.
Oh, and forget what I said before. I don't think there's going to be a Twit rant. She doesn't deserve it, really. This, and maybe a rant on what attracts guys to Twits in general, is about as close as I think it's going to come. Remember the whole opposite-of-love-is-indifference thing? It's a lot like the whole thing with my father. I don't hate him. I don't care enough about him to hate him. That's why I don't really speak of him on my blog. He's not that important. It's ditto for the twit. When I first knew her, I didn't hate her either. I didn't care enough about her to hate her. She wasn't important enough to care about. I pitied her a little for that, and for her insecurities. I think that upon reading this, Besotted Boy will too. Maybe even use it as justification for his feelings.
That reminds me of another misconception of love. People often mistake pity for love. Or they pride themselves on loving the outcast, or the underdog. I myself have been guilty of that more than once in my life. Not taking pride in it, but believing I loved someone when I actually felt sorry for them. A hint: you're not doing them a favour. Nor are you doing somebody a favour when you make excuses for their faults, whether consciously or unconsciously. Because in essence, by doing that you're vindicating their actions, like a parent rewarding a child for doing wrong. And for the love of the goddess, sometimes the outcast isn't 'misunderstood'. Sometimes nobody likes them for a good fucking reason *coughjaredcough*.
Again, off-topic.
Hm. Love as thou wilt. Okay, how's this. I still agree with this basic precept. But let's clarify things. First of all, try to know Love from infatuation, or obsession, or whatever. And don't think that you need only love one person at a time. I'm not saying that you should go and be unfaithful. But just as you can love life and love someone else, one love is not more important than another. You can love your best friend as much as your significant other. You can love more than one significant other at a time. You can love, truly love, your enemies, if only a little bit. You can love money. You can love material objects. And guess what? It's not a bad thing. Obsession is. But obsession isn't love. There can be a fine line... sometimes it's an invisible line... but there's still the line.
I wish some of my friends could see that line. Hell, I wish I could see that line, sometimes.
Love as thou wilt.
I just finished reading a friend's blog. And ugh. I just want to hug him and beat up everyone who fucks him over, especially one specific someone. I mean, it's his birthday in a few days. And he deserves to have a great one, you know? But instead, it looks like he's gonna be swimming in shit. Upstream.
I don't know most of his friends. I only know them by reputation. But to me, it sounds like every one of them wants something from him. Except maybe his best friend. And especially that one special person he is besotted with. She likes his besottedness. She likes the attention. Does she actually give a flying fuck about him? I think not. Maybe a passing thought, but no more. I don't care what he says. I've known her a hell of a lot longer than he has.
Obsession, obsession. I could tell when she was online even before I had her on my MSN list because our conversations would suddenly go from rapid-fire responses to waiting a good 5-10 minutes for each response. Like right now, come to think of it. And I could almost smell the almost unconscious annoyance whenever I'd send a couple of messages one after the other, because he'd be having a convo with his belle and even that one little distraction (or several, depending how many other people were online) is an annoyance.
Why do twits have such power? To confuse and depress and tear apart relationships and friendships, to cause mood swings and irrational actions, all for supposed love? Not even of an amazing person, but for love of ... well... a twit.
Not that my friendships are beings destroyed by twits. The only way that the whole situation really bugs me is in how I can see it hurting my friend. And hey, I've been the one being hurt before. He really doesn't need the stress of friends' problems on top of his own.
The whole thing makes me think of the book I'm reading... Kushiel's Dart by Jacqueline Carey. I've read the entire series before, and I fell immediately in love. In fact, that's the premise of the entire world the book is built on: Love as thou wilt. The first and most important precept.
But what of this love? If indeed he truly loves her. I'm sorry... but I don't think so. It's an obsession, an infatu$ation... but love? Aside from the whole basic unlikelyhood of it all... I watch people. It's what I do, to enforce a cliche. And listening to him, talking to him... It's like a contradiction in motion. Except for his declarations (and obvious actions), it's like... I don't know how to explain. But patently obvious (to me at least) that's it not a deep emotion. An uber strong one, mayhap... but not a deep one. Even the fact that we can laugh and joke about twits and cows and such says a lot.
Love as thou wilt. But what of pain? Does it mean to love no matter what, to continue to love when there's no hope and the person hurts you as much as they bring you joy?
Of course, Phedre (the main character of Kushiel's Dart) is an anguissette... that means that she feels pleasure and pain as one. And man, does that make for a fucked up life, especially since she's a prostitute. And to make a long story short, that's not a bad thing in Terre d'Ange.
But yes. Back to the topic at hand. One thing I very much like about Phedre is that she sees herself clearly, with little dissembling. She also accepts herself, though she occasionally hates her nature. One thing that she admits and accepts, is love. Of course, her patrons hurt her. Literally, I mean. S &M cica, she is, because of the whole anguissette thing. Yet just as the pain is pleasure, she loves each of her patrons, at least a little bit.
I don't think that's just because she's an anguissette. I think that all of us love those who cause us pain, if only a little. Even if we don't admit it.
Which brings an even more disturbing question to light... mayhap part of the reason he loves her is because she hurts him? Now, before you all get on my case with the vehement objections, think about it. And I mean really thing about it, without automatically assuming the seemingly obvious response.
The opposite of Love isn't Hate. They're both such strong emotions, and they're really not all that different. They're both passion. Really, the opposite of both of them is indifference. It's easy to hurt someone who loves you, but nigh impossible to hurt someone who doesn't give a shit either way. But that's not the point I'm making here, since I already did that rant a year ago.
What I'm trying to say, in my own struggling way, is that since Love/Hate are so close, it's easy to confuse them. I hate everything about you... why do I love you? That song says it all. The heart holds no bounds. Love as thou wilt.
But then, I don't hate anyone. True, I have moments where I despise things, but I also have moments of absolute love. And the love moments outweight the hate ones.
Wandering away from the point again, sorry.
When you love someone or something, you give it power over you. Power to hurt you, power to manipulate you. You can hate it, a little, for that power. And hate? Well, to quote Angel, "hate feels good, doesn't it? Simple." Just feeling pure emotion is amazing, even if it's pure sorrow or hate. It's easy to become addicted to emotion. That's what depression is, I think. An addiction to negative emotion. Would anyone stay depressed if there wasn't some love it in? I don't think so. And yes, I've been there. I'm not crazy. I mean it.
Oh, and forget what I said before. I don't think there's going to be a Twit rant. She doesn't deserve it, really. This, and maybe a rant on what attracts guys to Twits in general, is about as close as I think it's going to come. Remember the whole opposite-of-love-is-indifference thing? It's a lot like the whole thing with my father. I don't hate him. I don't care enough about him to hate him. That's why I don't really speak of him on my blog. He's not that important. It's ditto for the twit. When I first knew her, I didn't hate her either. I didn't care enough about her to hate her. She wasn't important enough to care about. I pitied her a little for that, and for her insecurities. I think that upon reading this, Besotted Boy will too. Maybe even use it as justification for his feelings.
That reminds me of another misconception of love. People often mistake pity for love. Or they pride themselves on loving the outcast, or the underdog. I myself have been guilty of that more than once in my life. Not taking pride in it, but believing I loved someone when I actually felt sorry for them. A hint: you're not doing them a favour. Nor are you doing somebody a favour when you make excuses for their faults, whether consciously or unconsciously. Because in essence, by doing that you're vindicating their actions, like a parent rewarding a child for doing wrong. And for the love of the goddess, sometimes the outcast isn't 'misunderstood'. Sometimes nobody likes them for a good fucking reason *coughjaredcough*.
Again, off-topic.
Hm. Love as thou wilt. Okay, how's this. I still agree with this basic precept. But let's clarify things. First of all, try to know Love from infatuation, or obsession, or whatever. And don't think that you need only love one person at a time. I'm not saying that you should go and be unfaithful. But just as you can love life and love someone else, one love is not more important than another. You can love your best friend as much as your significant other. You can love more than one significant other at a time. You can love, truly love, your enemies, if only a little bit. You can love money. You can love material objects. And guess what? It's not a bad thing. Obsession is. But obsession isn't love. There can be a fine line... sometimes it's an invisible line... but there's still the line.
I wish some of my friends could see that line. Hell, I wish I could see that line, sometimes.
Love as thou wilt.
Time doesn't slow down for those who Dream...
Voice: It's been a while since you called for me.
Weaver: Yeah, I just wasn't needin' ya.
Voice: Now that sure makes me feel special.
Weaver: Oh, you know what I mean...
Voice: Yes, I do. So to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?
Weaver settles comfortably onto a bed of mist. She also happens to be naked. The mist cushions her and wraps tendrils around her arms and legs, with wisps settling around her face, feet and breasts. She collapses bonelessly, the mist tickling her feet. A comfortable sigh escapes her.
Weaver: Now that's better. Man, it's hot. You know, although the whole climate-changing concept is a scary one, I could definitely get used to this kind of Calgary weather.
Voice: You're not technically in Calgary anymore.
Weaver: Nope, but even while I'm in my own personal Oz mentally, my body is still bloody sweating. But yes. Anyways. I wish to talk about books.
Voice: Books, eh? More Suzanne Forster?
Weaver: Yes, books. And no. And Mama's kickin' me off her computer. So I have to go. We shall have the book-talk latah.
Voice: Okay, then. Until next time.
Lah.
Weaver: Yeah, I just wasn't needin' ya.
Voice: Now that sure makes me feel special.
Weaver: Oh, you know what I mean...
Voice: Yes, I do. So to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?
Weaver settles comfortably onto a bed of mist. She also happens to be naked. The mist cushions her and wraps tendrils around her arms and legs, with wisps settling around her face, feet and breasts. She collapses bonelessly, the mist tickling her feet. A comfortable sigh escapes her.
Weaver: Now that's better. Man, it's hot. You know, although the whole climate-changing concept is a scary one, I could definitely get used to this kind of Calgary weather.
Voice: You're not technically in Calgary anymore.
Weaver: Nope, but even while I'm in my own personal Oz mentally, my body is still bloody sweating. But yes. Anyways. I wish to talk about books.
Voice: Books, eh? More Suzanne Forster?
Weaver: Yes, books. And no. And Mama's kickin' me off her computer. So I have to go. We shall have the book-talk latah.
Voice: Okay, then. Until next time.
Lah.
Tuesday, July 04, 2006
Gorgeousness!
Ahhhh!
I'm feeling exceedingly happy.
Beautiful and amazing and me!
See this picture?
Ignore the 'Nexopia' tag at the bottom. I was too lazy to email it to myself, so I just pulled a copy off of the net.
Anyways. So this picture, is me. Two years ago, but still me. And it looks remarkably the way I do now... of course my hair's a little longer and my skin's a little lighter... and I probably don't glow the way I do there... but still.
This picture is the cause of a deep and abiding happiness for myself. Let me explain. Let me go back to April 2004, right after I shaved my head for cancer (and lost the hair I hadn't cut in 8(!!) years). We were there to spread my grandfather's ashes, but his death was a few months before and I'd had time to heal a little.
First thing to know: every black man within a ten-mile radius was on my ass. Or at least wanted to be. Couldn't even walk down the street, and especially not in a bathing suit.
-grins-
But see, then I'd look in a mirror. And all that good feeling that amassed from the looks and the propositions would disappear. Cuz I'd look, and I'd be like, "Wait a second. I don't look that great."
Oh whoops must run. Hopefully will finish this some other time.
LATER
Hookay.
So back to Barbados. Loss of self-confidence and all that.
So one day (and I can't remember where) I found this huge gorgeous flower. I couldn't put it in my hair proper, of course (not having any), but I loved it and Kai and I spent a whole bunch of time taking pictures.
But see... while I felt really pretty while the pictures were being taken... once I saw them (including this one) I thought "Oh... but I look fat..."
And so it was for two years.
Up until a few days (I think... no sense of time...) ago.
See, I don't remember how or when it happened, exactly... but I was talking to Mama a while back (about Becca, no less) and Mama said something that stuck in my head. She said that Becca was the perfect specimen of womanhood. Of course, by North American standards she's not, but see, that's only by North American standards. In anywhere else (like... oh, say... BARBADOS...) she's absolutely gorgeous. And while I've always felt that Becca's gorgeous (YEAH, THATS RIGHT BITCH YOURE BEAUTIFUL), I realized that the same thing applied to me. That's why everyone was gaga over me even though I looked shitty. Because see, I didn't look shitty. Only shitty for this day and age. So what if I'm not uberskinny? So what if I jiggle when I walk? I mean, it's not like I have fat just swishing everywhere. I'm just... squishy.
And so when I happened to come back across this picture a while ago, instead of depressing me, it made me happy. Because I could finally see the beauty in myself, without doubts.
And just in case I wasn't sure... yesterday or the day before, when I decided to change my pic on Nex to it, the minute I switched I started getting a million creepy messages from random people all over Canada propositioning me and saying how beautiful I was. From guys and girls alike.
Hey, it's still flattering!
But yes. And since then... well, you know how I was completely at peace with the universe a while back? Well, now I'm completely at peace with myself. Hell, not even 'at peace'. That implies neutrality. I'm just plain loving myself and the world. Accepting and loving.
So there you go. I hope you find the same beauty in yourself that I did. And, of course, in the world.
There's Beauty in the Madness!
La Vie Est Belle.
Harmony, and above all...
Love.
Broken Wingsness
I've been re-reading Broken Wings, for the first time since I finished it last September.
That was a quote from it. Beautiful, eh? Reading stuff like that always makes me wonder, 'who wrote that?', but yet I don't doubt tha tit was me because I remember the exact moment those words came to me, in a moment of sleep-deprivation and word lust.
Not to mention the fact that I'm always thinking about that eternal hope that keeps us going, in everything. It's why Davo's still chasing the twit. It's why everyone doesn't just commit suicide. It's why abused people don't leave their spouses.
It bloody sucks.
But it's still like the Energizer Bunny. It keeps going and going and going.
Now back to reading.
As Lunai watched the tears wet her companion’s face, she felt the same urge; the same irresistible need to help in some way that had led her to Sarah. Suddenly the term ‘defend and protect’, the words Sentinels supposedly lived by, held an entirely new meaning. She tentatively put her arm around Darcy’s shoulders and was amazed when Darcy threw her arms around Lunai and started to cry in earnest. The feeling that she was aiding Darcy in her grief was not an altogether unpleasant one. She would not grieve for Sarah Harper, because she knew that there was nothing better that Sarah could have done. Her parents would not be changed, nor would they be swayed by reason. She was a little bewildered at why Darcy would grieve, as well: she and Sarah had not been particularly close, nor had they shared a special bond the way they seemed to now that she was dead.But gradually, with the help of Sarah’s memories and the way she was slowly coming to comprehend human nature, she realized that it did not matter. Family was something that transcended simple relations and took a deeper meaning, one that had to do with blood. It was love, pure and simple, unconditional. That was why Darcy was crying. Because Sarah had loved her parents, regardless of how they had controlled her life, and had ultimately been the cause for its end. And because Darcy still loved her parents, and her sister. Though she knew that they would never accept her, she still loved them, and always would.
As these conclusions came into her mind, she was astonished to find that tears had come to her eyes as well. She wept into Darcy’s shoulder, and her tears were silent ones. She understood why humans continued to live on, in spite of war, disease, and the slow destruction of the Earth that was their home. Because there was that eternal love and that eternal hope that one day, things would change.
That was a quote from it. Beautiful, eh? Reading stuff like that always makes me wonder, 'who wrote that?', but yet I don't doubt tha tit was me because I remember the exact moment those words came to me, in a moment of sleep-deprivation and word lust.
Not to mention the fact that I'm always thinking about that eternal hope that keeps us going, in everything. It's why Davo's still chasing the twit. It's why everyone doesn't just commit suicide. It's why abused people don't leave their spouses.
It bloody sucks.
But it's still like the Energizer Bunny. It keeps going and going and going.
Now back to reading.
Sunday, July 02, 2006
Movie Time
Goddamnit, this is so uncool.
So weird shindig last night. Jolyn, Blair, and Davo all left early this morning. I, alone and bored, decided that since it was rainy outside and I was alone, I might as well watch movies. And I've been having a Star Wars craving, so I decided to watch all of the Star Wars movies in order (minus Episode II, since somebody borrowed it and I never got it back).
It's exactly the topic of borrowing that's been pissing me off. People in my household are hell on CDs. Be them DVDs or music disks, they end up scratched to hell, dirty... They're never put back in their covers, or worse yet they're put back into the wrong covers.
Out of all my pet peeves, this is the absolute most biggest one. Especially since they don't bother to take better care of it even if it doesn't belong to them. In the past few years, I've been amassing a private movie collection, separate from the family's. I try as hard as I can to keep them in my room, separate from the others and from the evil clutches of my family, but they're also very proprietary about movies... unfortunately not their own.
Example. Underworld and Underworld Evolution. Two of my favourite movies of all time. Becca go tme Underworld Evolution for my birthday, and we immediately watched it. I haven't seen it since then, because Brian loves it too. And the first thing he did was take it to watch over and over again in his pit. The original Underworld? Ha! I saw the disc for the first time in months the other day. Not that it was watchable, because of all the scratches in it.
But back to Star Wars. I was in the kitchen earlier, after searching--
Okay. The anger has randomly faded. I don't really want to dwell on this... but I dont' want to erase it because I know something'll happen again that'll set me off on this topic.
So until another time.
So weird shindig last night. Jolyn, Blair, and Davo all left early this morning. I, alone and bored, decided that since it was rainy outside and I was alone, I might as well watch movies. And I've been having a Star Wars craving, so I decided to watch all of the Star Wars movies in order (minus Episode II, since somebody borrowed it and I never got it back).
It's exactly the topic of borrowing that's been pissing me off. People in my household are hell on CDs. Be them DVDs or music disks, they end up scratched to hell, dirty... They're never put back in their covers, or worse yet they're put back into the wrong covers.
Out of all my pet peeves, this is the absolute most biggest one. Especially since they don't bother to take better care of it even if it doesn't belong to them. In the past few years, I've been amassing a private movie collection, separate from the family's. I try as hard as I can to keep them in my room, separate from the others and from the evil clutches of my family, but they're also very proprietary about movies... unfortunately not their own.
Example. Underworld and Underworld Evolution. Two of my favourite movies of all time. Becca go tme Underworld Evolution for my birthday, and we immediately watched it. I haven't seen it since then, because Brian loves it too. And the first thing he did was take it to watch over and over again in his pit. The original Underworld? Ha! I saw the disc for the first time in months the other day. Not that it was watchable, because of all the scratches in it.
But back to Star Wars. I was in the kitchen earlier, after searching--
Okay. The anger has randomly faded. I don't really want to dwell on this... but I dont' want to erase it because I know something'll happen again that'll set me off on this topic.
So until another time.
Saturday, July 01, 2006
Floating More..
Just laying here next to my bed... listening to Davo play guitar while I talk to Dallis about the meaning of life. How beautiful...
Ah, Davo really is amazing at guitar. He's playing Death Cab For Cutie Songs and he strums so... delicately I can almost see his fingers plucking at the strings. I shall make CD and fall asleep to it.
Oooh... is that Sweet Dreams (are Made Of this)?
Ahh Becca just kicked me and whimpered. She's asleep behind me.
I don't recognize this one but I like it. Hm. You can really tell he loves to play...
Man, what better way to spend a 2 AM?
It was a lovely day. We laughed and chilled and talked, us three ladies. Then I talked to Davo. Now, I am talking to him again. Or rather, listening to him. It doesn't matter if I know the song or not... It's still relaxing and funky. I'm not even falling asleep (and believe me, I've fallen asleep on the phone before).
Hm. I just realized that we've been talking for like an hour and a half. Fancy that, a male who enjoys talking on the phone.
*thinks*
Now that I mention it... I've talked to both Kurt and Will for long hours until late at night. As a matter of fact, I believe I've fallen asleep on both at one point or another. And males, both of them. Who else have I talked to until late late late? Inga, most certainly. Rebecca, at least once. Even Nick, maybe. Or no. That was just online.
Sigh... nevermind... I'm just goin to lay here and enjoy this some more...
A While Later
Sorry. My phone just ran out of battery... it gives you exactly one mili-second's warning of a beep before it turns off. And I don't want to call him back because I don't have another phone handy and besides... he shouldn't be useless tomorrow morn' either. Especially since he's going to pack quickly and clean and such and get his mother to let him sleep over.
AREN'T YOU, DAVO?
Pity, though. We'd moved back into talking.
I shoudl probably go to bed if I don't want to be useless tomorrow. Especially with Miz Early Morning sleeping for the past four hours and ready to wake up uber early this morning.
And a mosquito bit my ass. Again.
Joy.
Lah.
Ah, Davo really is amazing at guitar. He's playing Death Cab For Cutie Songs and he strums so... delicately I can almost see his fingers plucking at the strings. I shall make CD and fall asleep to it.
Oooh... is that Sweet Dreams (are Made Of this)?
Ahh Becca just kicked me and whimpered. She's asleep behind me.
I don't recognize this one but I like it. Hm. You can really tell he loves to play...
Man, what better way to spend a 2 AM?
It was a lovely day. We laughed and chilled and talked, us three ladies. Then I talked to Davo. Now, I am talking to him again. Or rather, listening to him. It doesn't matter if I know the song or not... It's still relaxing and funky. I'm not even falling asleep (and believe me, I've fallen asleep on the phone before).
Hm. I just realized that we've been talking for like an hour and a half. Fancy that, a male who enjoys talking on the phone.
*thinks*
Now that I mention it... I've talked to both Kurt and Will for long hours until late at night. As a matter of fact, I believe I've fallen asleep on both at one point or another. And males, both of them. Who else have I talked to until late late late? Inga, most certainly. Rebecca, at least once. Even Nick, maybe. Or no. That was just online.
Sigh... nevermind... I'm just goin to lay here and enjoy this some more...
A While Later
Sorry. My phone just ran out of battery... it gives you exactly one mili-second's warning of a beep before it turns off. And I don't want to call him back because I don't have another phone handy and besides... he shouldn't be useless tomorrow morn' either. Especially since he's going to pack quickly and clean and such and get his mother to let him sleep over.
AREN'T YOU, DAVO?
Pity, though. We'd moved back into talking.
I shoudl probably go to bed if I don't want to be useless tomorrow. Especially with Miz Early Morning sleeping for the past four hours and ready to wake up uber early this morning.
And a mosquito bit my ass. Again.
Joy.
Lah.
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