Fucking kids care more about each other than we do
This…. This is my favorite thing.
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@shanester21
Fucking kids care more about each other than we do
This…. This is my favorite thing.
everyone so bland and boring
Clever tweet
I need a clever tweet.
I need something that's going to show the wit. I hope Jessica sees it and thinks I'm (kind of) funny.
I need to instagram this dinner. Cause this is the kind of place everyone would expect me to find myself at. I need to show this rooftop view. Everyone should know it's better than the rest. [but what filter?]
I need a good profile picture. I need to show that this trip was worth it. I need for all to think I'm deep. Full of experience. Travel. I need to get as many likes as possible.
I need a song lyric that people will get - can connect to. I need to make him jealous now that's he's gone.
I need to continue constructing. Constructing some image. This idea of who I want to be to others. I need it now or what will they think? Will I be relevant?
I need a clever tweet.
I have never seen an expression as full of wonder as Lou’s as he died. His hands were doing the water-flowing 21-form of tai chi. His eyes were wide open. I was holding in my arms the person I loved the most in the world, and talking to him as he died. His heart stopped. He wasn’t afraid. I had gotten to walk with him to the end of the world. Life—so beautiful, painful and dazzling—does not get better than that. And death? I believe that the purpose of death is the release of love.
Laurie Anderson on Lou Reed in Rolling Stone. (via pitchfork)
why don't we write letters?
People were once poured into scribbled papers and inked letters, but gone are the days where time and emotion met in the characters we produce. Bodies that etched every drop of ourselves into the scrapped canvases before us. The time spent in waiting symbolic of a trying journey, only adding merit to the final arrival and successive devouring of another's being.
In some Midwestern university my uncle, who spoke on English, always said so much could be told from a person's written hand. Eager rising, stretching out morning's aches in-line towards the mail with hopes of an envelope that carries the weights of a far-off land. The heart's connection to another, separated only by space, felt through curve changes and line breaks.
I wish the world was as black-and-white as it once was, throwing stones from atop jungle gym platforms.Those days when the edge of the world showed itself from your favorite tree branch. When a bike could bring you to any end you desired to see.
It seems so much more a synthesis now. Every choice pivotal. Every crossing of the railroad tracks a gateway into a new, complicated disarray. Would anyone pick me out as a face in the crowd? I don't like the idea that they wouldn't. I don't want to be just sand. Dust.
And how come the world isn't as beautiful as they taught in the history books? Where went the compassion and brilliance they promised shined out from humanity? At the very least that's how the words used to read. I'm searching in every channel change and page turn but I can't seem to uncover it.
I'll never understand our loss of self to technology portals. How a witty tweet or season finale ever immobilized us to the world's ills. Why aren't our legs itching and hearts yearning to never let society be defined as the status quo. To be shaped by urgency and not routine, passion and not profit.
They made us like this. They locked us up eight hours a day, years on end, just for us to return home with too little time to help change the grim images flashing before us on the screen. They promised these toys would fill us up, so why do I feel so hallow now? They urged, "push for a lifetime to only turn the dial a notch," and we consented. If there were a God would he fix it? Is he as lazy, as greedy a being as we?
It's been said you can find yourself in nature, the place where it all began. There are parts unpaved, where the hearts of pristine lands still seem elegant and awe-inspiring. I hope I find more than just an uncivilized ape in me. Maybe in some nook of the earth I'll find comfort. Solace. By day I'll wander and dream and make peace with every soul I pass, and by nightfall I'll seek shelter in whatever comes along, fearful of passed bear-prints and coyote yelps that haunt a bitter winter dusk. It's human nature, after all, to fear the wild beast, yet ignore it within ourselves, never minding the harm left in our boot-tracks.
we watched a lot of sun sets change to nearly risen up on that rooftop. that endless culdasac at the edge of tomorrow longing. we passed time lacking presence, always hoping the craving for some better future would outweigh a dull yesterday. never realizing ourselves that the nights spent in hopeful discontent were those that would mean the most. final specks of wine lining the base of the bottle. half-lit cigarette. faces and hearts that didn't contain but gave comfort. lost souls. alive.
New Urbanism is not just an architectural movement. It is a complete and total rejection of space and society without meaning.
http://thenewurbanist.tumblr.com/themanifestoofthenewurbanist (via thenewurbanist)
we were two souls scarred by life's fragility, that tomorrow might not bring the same sun as today.
craving light still we left as kids, swore to never grow old, not planning on forever.
what do you escape from when you plan on earth's plentiful years? nothing, but life itself. the greatest of adventures stem from the unknown.
if tomorrow never comes at least we were rich, never seeing views from behind desk reviews but from border crosses cobble stones rock cliffs and full moons.
children with promises and dreams still to fill, for if life is what you make it, let's never make it less
than an endless sun
You count the years with tally marks save markers and ink for fallen trees
You fall from branches and leaves and curse the gods of arithmetic for fucking up all the angles
You remember your childhood in slices, birthday cake and bandages
You remember the hospital, your mother’s tears, your shame in shades of stainless steel
You plea for a few moments more, a proper goodbye
Study nature, love nature, stay close to nature. It will never fail you.
- Frank Lloyd Wright (via natural-magics)
Swept.
And if they say love can take you away well maybe I can see it. Never believed in sap exaggerations but I've never felt very grounded with you. I say our own world. You call it home.
I remember you best under city lights and sweeping sidewalk talks. Blaming the drinks for how we felt young and invincible. Thinking to ourselves maybe this was really something, but too shy to let the words hit the chill of the night, so we hid them under traded smiles and passes up at soaring buildings whose infinity brought us back down to reality.
Or maybe under evening lit rooms where ease fought the heavy motion of the day away. How you looked under the in-and-out of tv light at the edge of the room - the sole reminder of a world out there apart from ours. That week we got swept away.
Fuck the clock that's always ticking, you say. I can't say I like it either but in those eight days we had the hand on the wall didn't seem to move until it ticked off our 11 o'clock check out. And all I really felt were city strolls and cafe laughter inviting in evening's gleam, taking the days away. Trance of you.
The breaks that interrupt us are long and hard like you say, but falling in love over again each time never seems to tire. Nervous bodies those first days, fidgeting to figure out how exactly these things work together, trying to hold back just how much they've been calling for the other. Timid talks like we're new at this soon turn back to sides no one knows. Put it all out there, I'm urging, cause I'm dying to hear the things you've only played over in your head for you to hear. Finally comes back to me where my hands fall on yours, the path they take down.
Remember you mad those nights no urge to leave our room done up for us. Well turn that music up just a touch, I'd say, cause it hits good, and poor me out a bit more wine cause it does too, and you look good with your denim pulled over as if you dressed up for me alone. Now tell me why I'd ever go anywhere if I have all that I need right here?
And how about the sun setting past you on the river. Lying on me telling how you felt about the world when you were young and years didn't matter cause you had a hundred more. Felt nice there with innocent ways, watching clouds dissolve to stars.
You came quick but strong those earliest days. You were a hurricane and I wasn't much of a man, reluctantly washed away, shook around, just enough to stand back on my feet rid of debris the past had left.
But now I see you full and best here, where you should be beside me. Still wet from the after pool shower. You say you can't decide which was richer, the merlot or the sky line view from the rooftop. I'll tell you. The water was hot but not like the warmth you fill me with. And the glasses went down smooth but they didn't beat the it doesn't get any better than this feeling that almost came screaming out of me from that high place. Whole city at our fingertips and no worries but what we could take on next. That this was just the start. The world we've still got left to see is the richness in my book.
The smooth burn of downed whiskey. The midnight pavement chasing a coming sun. The icy water of mountain falls stealing all breath right up from inside, summer day. The this cliff is high but I'm jumping. Now. Exhilaration. With no end in sight. That's how I see you now. That week I got swept away.
Me encuentro a Dios en la naturaleza
Yo nunca he tenido confianza en las palabras de "los buenos libros”
Que las iglesias usan para estructura
Soy realista
Pero cuando estoy solo en el bosque
Y los arboles no parecen reales
Cuando miro el poder de una cascada
Ve la vista desde una montaña alta
O el sol en sus minutos finales
Yo siento algo más
Que la ciencia puede formular
The city feels great but I needed out. So I took a bus long through the night just to feel the country change. I climbed mountain peaks and met full moons. Felt rocks slide right off the cliff from under my feet. Watched ripples form in the lake from that perch we claimed for the day. I thought that maybe if everyone felt these things and saw these sights the world wouldn't be so bad. So destructive.
I saw warming hospitality of the people treating all as neighbors. Who didn't have much but knew that didn't matter. That giving what they could is what did.
And I faced the same questions everywhere I went. The light skin seemed to warrant an explanation. Like I could somehow justify the history between our respective homes.
I wanted to express things to them. How I'm sorry my government helped bring in to power disappearance of so many of their people. How I don't think it's fair either my next meal is provided. How I wish I could give more than warn blue eyes and an empathy smile. Can you boil lives down to just words?
I kicked a soccer ball back across the dirt to a little girl. Her laugh gave me hope that she hadn't yet let go of childhood dreams. I wondered which one us felt more human. Why was I the one behind the iPhone camera and not in front of it? Why did it seem that worlds and not just borders divided us?
Toured places that brought the words in school books to life. Recovered factories. Landless movement settlements. Quilombos. Each place crossed a threshold into their world as a foreign tourist. Stepped into their life for three hours just to pull away waving from a tour bus like interactive museum visits. They have no escape bus. What did it mean that these were supposed to be success stories?
It's hard to put it all together and make sense of it all. I stood at the edge of Iguazo falls soon aware of how insignificant I was. The water flowed off and powerfully past the edge of the world, spraying me with those water droplets not quite ready to make the leap.
It sort of hit me then, picking up Spanish from my left and Portuguese on my right. Languages separated us but still one in the same in how we all felt pretty small up there. Felt the rush of being human. There really is a beautiful world beyond the California tide. The Atlantic expanse. The Texas fence. I promise it's even prettier than the national geographic pages. The hearts hurt and thrive in love and hide from war in much the same as ours. We're all not so different. So why do we act like it?
And we call it globalization.
First your told to embrace the global community. Everyone's coming together. Cultures are closer and discovering is easier. Go learn a language even, you never know where you'll end up. We're all one. It's progressive. We call it globalization.
It was just like the magazines promised.
Big names take the land from the rural farmers so they can use the cheap, unregulated expansive plots. And so families who've only known that place there move to the cities in hope for better, but find shacks in the outskirts where neither water nor police nor opportunity come in. And maybe the factory down the way will hire for half a living wage if you're lucky enough to be an undocumented immigrant. Maybe you can get a job in construction, constructing resorts and conference centers for those same people that put you here to come pass the time. It's not easy honey but find your niche in the system. And don't hope for the government to change anything with all their friends high up who need their resources sound and plentiful. Your country's developing but at least you can walk down the way to the McDonald's every now and then and feel a part of the social class. Find some way of service here cause the only thing hard to export to the lands of hopes and dreams is yourself.
And what's the need for indigenous languages and tribal rituals when we could all speak English. This land here is devoted to the dam so the city people can quench their thirst and the factories can move toys, so I'm glad your ancestors didn't plan on too long. Get out before the water moves in and hope that one day your country isn't just a producer for those in the Central cause right now you and it both are having trouble staying afloat.
Cause' they need their food cheap and it's fun to play with recipes at dinner parties and say this spice is exclusive to this rugged area 'here.' And this wine comes from the sweeping mountains of this far off 'there.' How cultured they seem.
And their clothes aren't going to make themselves. Jenny needs a new dress for sadie-hawkins and Jake needs nikes because tryouts are coming soon and their mom is worried about the church's tithe so she's stress shopping. Because they need big stores and enough options to waste time on that triviality can be buried.
Don't forget how rich your land is. To you it means fall harvests which bring dances and festivals in the village center. It means a cool breeze on a summer afternoon and the nightly insects telling all to lie down now. To us it means oil. Cause how is dad going to drive the four-runner first to the private schools for the kids and then to his banking job in the city? How embarrassing it'd be to not be the ones scoffing at those using public transportation.
Hope you have quick hands cause Jake's iPhone just broke and Jenny's heading to college and without a Mac she wouldn't be trendy and grandma should get an iPad to play solitaire and hearts. There's no app for that. So take a break and eat your apple but get back to the assembly line soon.
And dad does feel bad that his bank financed the same dictator that brought the dark decade to your country. The one you don't even want to speak of. Sometimes between the finance reports, crunching numbers, he thinks of the 30,000 disappeared. He thinks about how people like your mom were hero's who really fought for something. How the story's the same for your neighbors and many others -- do the stripes on the flag just show the blood on our hands? But then Tim calls him for lunch break. There's a great sushi restaurant in town ran by fresh off the boat Japanese.
And at lunch when the normal folk are hidden away the chiefs take their bonuses and place them in the pockets of their next puppet running for office. Cause' don't you know a 'Republic' is just a system for the normal class to 'elect' which elite they want to govern their lives most. It is disguised well, though, encouraging things like civil involvement and through highlighting democracy in the history textbooks.
But don't you worry that puppet is mainly interested in protecting his own stake in businesses. And fortunately for you he's mostly involved in Mid East energy and weapon trade so your land is spared for once, while he puts votes to sell more arms to blow off their arms and deny the begging hands to put wealth in his hands.
The people who do care give up sometimes. Resolving themselves to the same story and a side involvement in some non-profit which looks good mostly just on paper and in donor recruitment pamphlets. Cause' I don't know if you've heard but taxes are high and the kid's college is expensive and the government takes away more of our liberties everyday so we must protect ourselves.
Sure the government could do more. But spending more over there would mean a smaller military here and the thought of threat to any of these luxuries is just too much to bear. What an infringement on our security and stability. It's hard when things aren't easy.
I want you to know there are people out there that give it more than just a passing thought.
I hope you find water tomorrow.
That the truck doesn't run out too early.
I'll send ten dollars this month in hopes that it doesn't.
We're all one. It's progressive. And we call it globalization.