Saturday, June 27, 2009
Looking For Love.
Hi. I'm a 24 year old Uni student. I like double entendre's, dimly lit pubs and fancy dress parties. I spent most of my time thinking up creative ways to speak about myself. I am looking for someone who is definitely not stuck in limbo and can similarly morph to suit social situations.If this sounds like you please email me at: wakeup@idontknowwhere.com.fu
Sunday, June 21, 2009
This ain't no fucking Disco.
So. Journeyed to West End last night to see British India: AMAAAAAZING. There were some definite sound issues, not sure Hi Fi has that part down pat yet, but otherwise it rocked my socks off. I love bands that still have the energy to throw themselves around the stage in the name of music, as well as not giving a fuck about what their hair is doing or how sweaty they are getting, as long as they play the shit out of each song. I swear the lead guitarist was shooting sex eyes in our direction as he played his guitar with his teeth. I am really digging on the variety, lyrically, that british India have. I like every one of their songs, even though they range from fuck the man to love. Amaaaazing.
Monday, June 8, 2009
Limitless colour in a colourless world.
I sometimes wonder about the price people pay for seeing the world in a different light. Van Gough was such an amazing artist, painting pictures so vivid and of beautiful landscapes and yet he could not see them with his eyes as he was being kept in an asylum in Saint Remy, they were purely from his mind. I guess through art and song and dance and poems, its becomes easier to express an altered world view because you have the freedom to express it in an alternative way. Starry
starry night
paint your palette blue and grey
look out on a summer's day
with eyes that know the
darkness in my soul.
Shadows on the hills
sketch the trees and the daffodils
catch the breeze and the winter chills
in colors on the snowy linen land.
And now I understand what you tried to say to me
how you suffered for your sanity
how you tried to set them free.
They would not listen
they did not know how
perhaps they'll listen now.
Starry
starry night
flaming flo'rs that brightly blaze
swirling clouds in violet haze reflect in
Vincent's eyes of China blue.
Colors changing hue
morning fields of amber grain
weathered faces lined in pain
are soothed beneath the artist's
loving hand.
And now I understand what you tried to say to me
how you suffered for your sanity
how you tried to set them free.
perhaps they'll listen now.
For they could not love you
but still your love was true
and when no hope was left in sight on that starry
starry night.
You took your life
as lovers often do;
But I could have told you
Vincent
this world was never
meant for one
as beautiful as you.
Starry
starry night
portraits hung in empty halls
frameless heads on nameless walls
with eyes
that watch the world and can't forget.
Like the stranger that you've met
the ragged men in ragged clothes
the silver thorn of bloddy rose
lie crushed and broken
on the virgin snow.
And now I think I know what you tried to say to me
how you suffered for your sanity
how you tried to set them free.
They would not listen
they're not
list'ning still
perhaps they never will.
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