[fellow-earthling]

Window of Chance

Wilson Caicedo on bass

new song just in time for spring heartbreak

[i-never-knew-keats]

I was painfully anxious that all that all the words I uttered would be the sincerest possible equivalent of what I felt and had never yet attempted to formulate

In Search of Lost Time: Within a Budding Grove by Marcel Proust, 27 (via i-never-knew-keats)

[elizabethanism]

One can feel an attraction towards a particular person. But to release that fount of sorrow, that sense of the irreparable, those agonies which prepare the way for love, there must be -- and this is perhaps, more than a person, the actual object which our passion seeks so anxiously to embrace -- the risk of an impossibility.

Marcel Proust, Within a Budding Grove, Part 2

[metamorphesque]

— After the Quake, Murakami Haruki

[metamorphesque]

― Clarice Lispector

[quotefeeling]

I realize now that dying is easy. Living is hard.

Gayle Forman, If I Stay (via quotefeeling)

[weltenwellen]

Kahlil Gibran, The Treasured Writings of Kahlil Gibran

[fellow-earthling]

i love your sound!

Hey thank you! That means a lot, especially since I’m insecure about how my voice sounds. I hope you felt it~~~ gratitude for listening 🙏🏽

[fellow-earthling]

I wrote this song reflecting upon my own mortality. As the leaves that once grew in a blooming spring blanket the forest floor and decay, I am reminded of the continuous cycle of life....and that I too share that same fate of returning to source. Living in this grand cosmic memory, I wish to live a life that is worth remembering. To be present for every moment of the evolutionary journey of this soul experiencing what it’s like to be tangled in nerves entwined with flesh and bone. Where a vantage point of senses have emerged from the soil to witness this miracle that is Earth. We are all cut from the same cloth. Pieces of unique fabric in this miracle quilt of life. Shards of the same mirror. Rays of light from the same star. We are love manifested in this unique form. And within each of us lies infinite potential. We are limitless. Sending love to the collective and beyond. And if you’ve listened to this song, I sincerely thank you for giving it the time.

Lyrics: 

I won't wake in the body one day I'll return like the leaves fall to where they came these vessels are inherently ephemeral that we ever got to live in them is a miracle all things must pass the heart knows when to let go and when to grasp from the unknown we came to the unknown we go it's moving pretty fast I want to take it slow & when my time comes I don't want to regret & think about all the things I wish I said & all the things I wish I did if only I had the courage if only I wasn't so selfish if only I knew then what I've learned now well it's moving pretty fast I want to slow it down these vessels are inherently ephemeral that we ever got to live in them is beautiful the motion of the Earth is leaving me dizzy now it's moving pretty fast I want to slow it down the motion of the galaxy is leaving me dizzy now it's moving pretty fast I want to slow it down the universe is churning around it's moving pretty fast I want to slow it down all we have is now.

[fellow-earthling]

It’s the last day of July feeling dizzy and sleep deprived and the nights are growing longer like our shadows as we walk further from the fire and the days that seemed like they were so far away have passed and turned into yesterday and I wonder where you are has your soul found another body? as a baby in the Philippines or a sloth up in the Colombian trees? as an alien in another galaxy or a moth under the lamp on my street? wherever you may be I hope we get another chance to meet & if there’s a reason why I’m alive well I hope I fulfill that purpose before it’s my turn to die but you taught me instead of an ending it can be seen as another beginning and I’m still trying to see it that way and the days that seemed like they were so far away have passed and turned into yesterday have passed and turned into yesteryear and enduring revolving around a star I’m just grateful to still be herecredits

[fellow-earthling]

Stood there nervously as I heard your footsteps approaching for the longest time I thought of what I’d say to you when we finally met but the moment I saw your face my mind just went blank. do you even know how far your sound waves travel? rippling onto the shore of my mind you’re an agate on the riverbed I didn’t expect to find & maybe you can’t see the light you emit because it’s coming from you I wish you could see it the way that I do It shines so bright I’m a moth being drawn to your light walked on the railroad tracks like it was a balance beam and when you began to play I just sat there speechless listening saw a rainbow appear through the clouds saw a blue heron glide right over the sound saw a sea lion poke out its head and a bumblebee coated orange in pollen on the flowerbed & maybe you can’t see the light you emit because it’s coming from you I wish you could see it the way that I do & for the longest time I thought of what I’d say to you when we finally met but the moment I saw your face my mind just went blank I forgot how to even think.

[fellow-earthling]

I posted some demos of songs I wrote this summer. Recorded with a four track cassette. For the longest time I hesitated releasing music publicly but turning 26 changed that. I hope someone out there feels it. 

[artandchocolate]

Sappho - Translation from Anne Carson’s “If not, Winter”

[kitchen-light]

“In the end, a poet who makes something that I find memorable is someone who is a very private person but who happens to write well enough, beautifully enough, strangely enough – or, perhaps, finds a shape through to speak privately to many people at the same time. That is where craft joins emotion – where your craft opens up your emotion to another person. Poems might contain information, but they’re not about information. A poem is not about an event; it is an event.”

— Ilya Kaminsky, from “In Conversation Ruth Padel & Ilya Kaminsky” (published in Granta Magazine, 26th November, 2020)

[metamorphesque]

— Virginia Woolf, a diary entry

[mydarkenedeyes]

“What is hell? I maintain that it is the suffering of being unable to love.”

— Fyodor Dostoevsky, The Brothers Karamazov (1880)

[relatablepoetryandquotes]

“Some things are hard to write about. After something happens to you, you go to write it down, and either you over dramatize it, or underplay it, exaggerate the wrong parts or ignore the important ones. At any rate, you never write it quite the way you want to.” - Sylvia Plath