Mumford & Sons - The Banjolin Song / Awake my soul - A Take Away Show #105 from La Blogotheque on Vimeo.
The boys translating their music into French, beyond cool. Merci!
Saturday, May 21, 2011
Stars - A Takeaway Show
Stars | A Take Away Show from La Blogotheque on Vimeo.
I might as well call G's Wishing Well blogotheque#2. Just so many amazing artists in unique settings, I can't help but keep posting more vids. Stars melt my heart.
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Vindiction
As the lampshade hits the floor, it’s over. The final scream is that of the bulb. There will be no going back. No Sunday drives, no trip in December, no more of this shit.
The road is slick. Hurrying home, because that will make a difference? The car slides. It’s hard to hear the squeal over the radio. Money well spent.
The blemish on my neck should be gone by morning. No one will notice.
Confess? It won’t help. Not sure how much longer this can go on.
It hasn’t ended yet. Who is to say that it is wrong?
Conversation is fine. Sex is dull. Effort is abundant, but my passion has gone. Going through the motions seems the only way there is to live. Sometimes I don’t even know I am faking it.
Why is it that now I feel? So many nights, so many lies, and now is when it all becomes real. The decisions I have made, the truths twisted. Manipulation is my love. Why? I am not vindictive.
I have forgiven the past, or least I say I have. This garbage is full. Someone else will empty it. Fuck, waiting is the worst part. Sitting here I re-read old emails. Again?! Here?! I can’t let anyone see. I should delete it, but then it will be gone. Lost.
I feel it moving, across my body. Where will it stop? When will it end? Something so familiar, from a stranger, how can it be? Will you set me free? Rescue me.
Running helps, I guess. If I can’t feel good, at least I can try and look it.
I remember the first time we kissed in public. I was being unreasonable and realized it. If I made it better then, how do I now?
It must be too late. Do I turn around? Sleep in the car. That won’t help. I have to pretend, for him. I have to. Too much effort has been put in. He won’t understand but doesn’t have to. I am the one who has to live with it.
I was right, he doesn’t understand. If he did this would be easy. I shouldn’t care, but I do. I do so much that it becomes obvious to me, if not to everyone else. Maybe I can make him angry? Make him hate me. If I am this good at making him love me, it should be no problem.
I know it hurts. I am sorry. You do not deserve this. You deserve so much better than me. I know you don’t care that I think this. But believe me when I say, its one of the very few things I am sure of. You can do better than me.
He begs me to stay. I can’t its late. I need to leave if I truly believe what I say. Now is the time.
Each step I take my mind races. This isn’t supposed to hurt like this. Why is it when I make the right decision, it feels so wrong?
I hear him, he doesn’t understand. He is angry. I didn’t close the door as I left. I couldn’t. He was standing right there.
I can’t end this. I turn around to come back as the door slams. It frightens me, I try to scream, but the noise of glass over powers it.
I miss him already.
-Graham Balon
Elements
On and on and on and on again. We lose each other again. Breathe soft, tread fast. Remember, even the gentlest tide…
Do you do you do you need me? Come on, please me. Remove stains, tumble dry. No one ever listens.
Safe inside your head. Grotto themed, scented oils steam. As the story goes, history repeats.
Break free, shackled by freedom, still you roam. Homeward bound? Is the bastard alone?
If knowledge is the key, I must be the lock. Treasures inside? Forever, will be lost.
Struggle I know you. I can taste your smell. Defeat I love you, sound thy bell.
Balance you’ve deceived me. Ground, don’t fail me now.
Soon we fade. Our colours will change. I embrace the day, when beautiful is strange.
Romance the sheets, fold the love. Burn the flowers, scatter the candles.
Emotionally nude, physically caked. Torch the church, but not the steeple. Create potential, not more little people.
Take it all away. With out it there is no life, just as it is without you.
Give it freely, before you turn blue. Give it freely, as was given to you.
Extinguish, empower. Snuff out, Eiffel's tower.
-Graham Balon
Monday, May 2, 2011
500 or so thoughts
Don’t look down. It’s an impossible view. Scale the peaks. It’s the only way through. Tattered we roam. Tethered to truth. Lost on an island, with the fountain of youth.
Progress is squandered, when abandoned, its true. But answer me this, “What is progress to you?”
Is it adventure, or love?
Can’t it be both? Or neither?
It already is. Destiny is you.
Well then, if honesty is Heaven, by reason lies must be Hell.
Does that make purgatory humility? The choice to do? Beyond temptation, beyond pride, somewhere, where, we have the choice to choose.
A life well lived, what is this to you?
I’ve got the world in my hands, the master plan. Why is it that my time is through?
The looking glass is clouded, my priorities, they’ve gone askew.
I beg you lord, please forgive me, as I have forgiven you.
The price is steep, the toll is due, you know what you’ve done, all I’ve given you.
Forgiveness, there’s no option. Forgiveness? Have you no clue?
The choice you made, you made true. The choice you made, you made, you.
The time was measured justly, to that measure, I’ve been astute.
Your compassion is not measurable. It is beyond me.
Forgiveness, my son, forgiveness, Is what I ask of you.
Each step must be thought through thoroughly, as quickly as possible. Time is against us. The wind and the sun have teamed up.
“Kick us while we are down will you!” the echo boomed, following his yell, each reverb mocking the last one.
Composure is key. Thinking and acting at such a pace is not with out risk. Remember her directions. Remember the reason to her rhyme.
“I tell my love to wreck it all, Cut out all the ropes and let me fall
My, my, my, my, my, my, my, my, Right in the moment this order's tall” as the silence of his words filled his eyes with tears.
Faith is what brought you hear. In all aspects this is fact. With this kept close to heart, my fire grows.
Sweat is pouring, from pores and saplings alike. The only thing dry is the rock, but don’t let that fool you. Proceed.
Drive, not down the highways, but through the ditches, over the hills, drive until you are home.
Darkness creeps in, the silent army in the trees, approached through the flickers of the flame, whipping in the wind.
Faith is found, in the last thoughts. Can’t shake the feeling that I was a dick as a kid, that I will be forgotten in the peaks, over the hills, strong and alone.
Together we love, together we grow. Apart I am weak, apart is where I go.
Apart, together, into parts unknown.
Looking inwards. Finding things I had locked away. Fear is the cell that contained once forgotten passions. Discovering feelings, new and old has been what I want out of life. I want to be able to feel how I want to feel. For so long it has not been that way. I have been feeling the way I think I should feel for that situation. Thus stunting true experience. There is no such thing as almost integrity, although I would convince you otherwise. Persuasive he is, the one that feeds of controlling me. But he is a creation, and I love him for he has contributed to me. He is how I will learn. How I will live. The struggles, the success, the experience of me, and my little sloth friend inside. I like to call him a Demon, but maybe I am being a little too hard.
-Graham Balon
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)