| locking up: |
[14 Jul 2007|07:45pm] |
900 miles an hour is how fast the earth turns.
- may 4 2007 photo of the day by wayne levin
this feels like returning to an apartment of a lover
who left you a long time ago
because you lent her a book
& you need it to write a report.
& when you walk in using the key you still haven't returned
she's cooking a dinner for two.
anyway, maybe you missed the post where i said i'd see you on the other side,
but here, since you're here, hear this: ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/community.gif?v=92.1) warmest_corner
stay gold.
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| saving every little thing: |
[04 May 2007|12:15pm] |
i guess i went & turned 18.
please, un-add this jrnal.
there's a clean break. ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif?v=92.1) gh0stmeat
but only if you incredibly terribly interested.
thanks, it's been a ride.
tullycraft - th last song
so bye bye, love
exchange yr demons for love,
demons about familiar stories & predictable names
a few last notes, th songs they sing
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| because it already is. |
[04 May 2007|12:00am] |
|
dear you:
if you who are reading this right now happens to know me, patricia, offline -- then i don't really want you reading this.
well. unless i told you about it. i guess.
let me know that you have found my livejournal. i like to keep my online life and offline one as separate as possible.
i don't add people just because i know them offline. if anything, that's more reason for me to keep my distance. livejournal > friendster
any protests, flames, greetings or sermons are welcome in the comments. leave a name, please. or you can just talk to me tomorrow and tell me what a terribly elitist person i am.
love,
pat.
edit: now that livejournal's done away with the invite codes, most of my entries will be friends-locked. i post too much anyway.
edit # 2/last warning: i post frequently & spasmodically. usually long run-on entries without punctuation or capitalization. if you don't like that, you won't like me. trust me.
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| you never rly had a doubt:: |
[03 May 2007|04:20pm] |
today was going to be th day when
well anyway. i've been floundering in remixes & cardboard carton sounds & things that glitter when held up to th light, glitter, then explode, so here, something more of standard fare. she pauses somewhere in th song, thinking, but th guitar goes on, & suddenly it all comes true: she wrote th goddamn song, & she's singing it for th first time. here it is, standard familiar fare.
cat power - wonderwall
that's for you, because a taxi bearing yr saint's name drove past me today; & that's for you, because i walk for hours behind someone who upon second glance looks nothing like you
backbeat th word is on th street that
today was going to be th day when
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| o. |
[03 May 2007|12:30am] |
when i was in upis grade school, there was a pair of identical twins in my batch. they were pretty big dudes, with wiry curly hair & low foreheads. a square jaw, doubled. we called them taong-bato. cavemen, actually, but literally translated, men of th stone age. men of stone.
their real names were jr & rj cuevas. they took up swimming in physical ed, & they say rj sank like a stone when he dove off th board. hence, taong-bato.
this was what, six or so years ago? grade school days. i once poked th back of jr's head with my pencil, when he sat in front of me in fifth grade & he turned around & just blinked at me, slowly.
walking home today i get a txt from nico, & he asks that i pray for th soul of rj, & for his family, & especially "his jr". his body's at funeraria paz & will be cremated on friday. i got th rest of th story later.
they, th twins, were running around romulo hall in up, & they fell. they both tripped & fell, & rj's head hit something & his brain crashed around inside of his skull & now he's gone, he's dead.
& can you imagine what it is like having to say you are not a twin anymore
& they fell, they both fell, exactly th same fall, twin boys, & one was taken & th other made to stay. taong-bato, pare. taong-bato.
he's getting cremated on my birthday. i'm going to visit th wake tmrw, & i'd like to ask you to pray for them both, please.
one's not half two. It's two are halves of one:
which halves reintegrating,shall occur
no death and any quantity;but than
all numerable mosts the actual more
minds ignorant of stern miraculous
this every truth-beware of heartless them
(given the scalpel,they dissect a kiss;
or,sold the reason,they undream a dream)
one is the song which fiends and angels sing:
all murdering lies by mortals told make two.
Let liars wilt,repaying life they're loaned;
we(by a gift called dying born)must grow
deep in dark least ourselves remembering
love only rides his year.
All lose,whole find
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| ghost: |
[01 May 2007|02:10pm] |
( gorgeous little music film )
there's a bit of a sting when you remember it isn't real
anyway
we had to chain th house gates closed this morning, because my 92-yr-old grandmother who is staying here for th summer was all dressed up about to leave, yelling that she will go admitted into philippine heart center. she gets like this every now & then, convinced a great terrible pain is bearing down on her, & th only way to escape is medical attention. if only it were that easy, 'la.
exasperated doctors again & again. she insists on being wheeled into their offices, when here at home she wanders about freely, mustering th strength to threaten th housemaids & throw water on our guinea pig. :(
i understand she's bored, & with everyone rushing by in such a hurry to get everything over with, i guess she feels neglected. she's turning 93 on may 12. i come home to see her asleep on our living room sofa, th pages of th newspaper she had been reading skittering around her in th half-light. i wonder what it is she dreams about.
th older you get, how much more of yr dreams are swallowed up by memory? or is everything new again, when you sleep?
i have made up my mind to die young
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| had to say: |
[30 Apr 2007|05:15pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
i update too often |
] |
i like someone still loves you boris yeltsin.
house fire's my favorite off broom. it's another one of those songs with sad lyrics but a light melody. think stars & th postal service & every other indietronica outfit. but sslyby isn't indietronica. they're plucked guitars & be-my-baby drums. warm glowing guitars.
i'd pull out a tullycraft comparison, but where tullycraft is hyperactive, sslyby is thoughtful. ( lyrics )
think it's sad? [sslyby - house fire]
well, it's not joyful. but with lyrics like those. hell, it doesn't even brood. it paces a bit, shrugs, taps his fingers on th window, makes a sandwich, but it refuses to mope. it refuses to be sad.
brave song. just for yr vocal interplay you could very well be 2007's glitter & twang.
oregon girl smiles more, & is kinda sly. tells jokes that make you tilt yr head to th side, then grin.
enjoy.
p.s. i was watching a pretty great freestyle soccer video, then it started making me uncomfortable. i got all shifty & cranky before i realized th background music was muse. i fucking hate muse. ):
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| post-it: |
[30 Apr 2007|10:30am] |
|
by now yr probably hard-wired to skip th entry whenever you see this icon. but i promise, it's got cool stuff at th end. :D
( albums i have to pay more attention to: )
bjork performing earth intruders on snl:
she's barefoot! & so goddamn cute! :D
i read on boingboing about her show at coachella, & th mindblowing equipment she's been using. one of these is th reactable. react + table.
|
| | | "reactable: basic demo #1" on Google Video |  |
The reactable, is a multi-user electronic music instrument with a tabletop tangible user interface. Several simultaneous performers share complete control over the instrument by moving physical objects on a luminous table surface. By moving and relating these objects, representing components of a classic modular synthesizer, users can create complex and dynamic sonic topologies, with generators, filters and modulators, in a kind of tangible modular synthesizer or graspable flow-controlled programming language.
in short, it's a glowing table you put things on & then you move them about & they make sound. :3 play that video!
wait for th sampler/metronome bit. o god it's beautiful. then at around 3:08 i wanted to cry haha
imagine using this with yr friends. imagine introducing this to yr friends.
i wish i had been born fifteen years later. my filthy rich parents would buy me one of these & my childhood would be spent fooling around with it then i'd grow up to become bjork.
eta: another video: line-in & voice control! |
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| OH NO: |
[29 Apr 2007|01:45am] |
with great & heartfelt apologies to mr. siken, & to mr. coroza [who would lynch me if he ever read this], & to all our past filipino teachers:
image files because i fail at html.
Love's not the way to treat a friend.
I wouldn't wish that on you. I don't
want to see your eyes forgotten
on a rainy day, lost in the endless purse
of those who can remember nothing.
Love's not the way to treat a friend.
I don't want to see you end up that way
with your body being poured like wounded
marble into the architecture of those who make
bridges out of crippled birds.
Love's not the way to treat a friend.
There are so many better things for you
than to see your feelings sold
as magic lanterns to somebody whose body
casts no light.
- Richard Brautigan
Hindi bagay ang pag-ibig para sa kabagang.
Hindi ito ang inaasahan ko para sa iyo. Hindi ko nais
mapagmalasang nakalimutan ang iyong mga mata
tuwing umuulan, nawala sa walanghanggang lalim ng tampipi
ng mga nakakalimot.
Hindi bagay ang pag-ibig para sa kabagang.
Hindi ko nais makita kang magkaganoon,
na ang katawan mo'y binubuhos tulad ng sugatang
marmol sa arkitektura ng mga nagtatayo ng
tulay na yari sa pilay na ibon.
Hindi bagay ang pag-ibig para sa kabagang.
Nakararami ang makabubuti sa iyo, kaysa
maibenta ang iyong damdamin
bilang mahihiwagang parol sa katawang
walang ningning.
- magneticsyntax & drivingblind_
p.s. kahihiyan ata 'to. D: anjo! come home & defend meeee
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| SLANDER: |
[28 Apr 2007|08:45pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
A LESSON IN LOGIC |
] |
IF THERE'S ONE THING THAT CHANGES,
IT IS WHAT I WANT.
WHAT I WANT
IS THAT ONE THING THAT CHANGES.
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| thinking about baggage: |
[28 Apr 2007|06:30pm] |
AIR AND LIGHT AND TIME AND SPACE
"-- you know, I've either had a family, a job, something
has always been in the
way
but now
I've sold my house, I've found this
place, a large studio, you should see the space and
the light.
for the first time in my life I'm going to have a place and the time to
create."
no baby, if you're going to create
you're going to create whether you work
16 hours a day in a coal mine
or
you're going to create in a small room with 3 children
while you're on
welfare,
you're going to create with part of your mind and your
body blown
away,
you're going to create blind
crippled
demented,
you're going to create with a cat crawling up your
back while
the whole city trembles in earthquake, bombardment,
flood and fire.
baby, air and light and time and space
have nothing to do with it
and don't create anything
except maybe a longer life to find
new excuses
for.
- BUKOWSKI, who else
so i figure not only am i going to create, i'm going to pursue
& i'm not going to mess this up.
not going to mess you up.
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| lost boy: |
[28 Apr 2007|12:10pm] |
i've never made travis nitro44 a mix. god knows i owe him one. or two.
so click on yr face, boy! it'll get you places. in more ways than one, even. [:
(what a smart sentence!)
( fly low: part one )
( fly lower: part two )
it's definitely not indie porn, & it won't get you very many scene points, but i made it with you in mind. haha. th postal office didn't let me send you a pack of gudang garam. hope this makes up for it. :3
enjoy, & take care of yrself out there.
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| all i want is my radio: |
[27 Apr 2007|09:25pm] |
good enough is home on a friday night, dinner of self-made pasta & then quiet kretek out my window. feet up lazy laptop humming all those sad songs
good enough is turning down a invite to yet another classy chickclubbar through txt, quite honestly saying i've got better things to do, writing yet another dead poem
what i do want to do is screaming ride a bicycle through night-ateneo
is it raining yet?
he spoke in a voice i know
a sound like sand when th tide is low
we kissed to his voice every night
paved in pale reactor light
stars - my radio (am mix)
i hope i don't like you/i hope it happens again
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| where do you go, idling away: |
[26 Apr 2007|11:50pm] |
|
o now i hate you, because you are asleep
i hate you because you are asleep without me
& i wish i could sleep th way you do now,
i wish i had slept with you in ways hollowed out
i would like to crawl into yr dreaming, i will
press myself against th walls of yr sleep,
& then press my palms against yr closed eyes
so that when you awake, & without warning, fall into me,
you will see without doubt th deeds i have done.
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| pneumoniaaaa |
[26 Apr 2007|05:10am] |
o god voltaaaaaaa leaked & i has it on loops
makes me sad, though. listening to entire bjork albums usually do. "you are my biggest laugh
i clumsily try to free you from me"
yes, it's five in th morning
i got poisonnnn in my system
coherent post later when i actually wake up
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| timbaland's golden hands: |
[22 Apr 2007|02:10pm] |
while drinking with my english block:
"timbaland is like king midas; everything he touches turns into gold!"
yes well but what if he touches gold?
now, i like m.i.a. she's like sonic youth [bad analogy alert!] in th sense that i know she's good, maybe brilliant, but i don't come back to her as often as i should. i didn't follow her career, & so far all i've got a is a buttload of remixes of sunshowers aaaand this, her track with timbaland.
timbaland + m.i.a. - come around
it's good, but it doesn't capture. kinda drills into you, as opposed to m.i.a.'s usual sass & flash. timbaland interjects somewhere in there, making th song vaguely reminiscent of nelly furtado's crap sellout.
i remember watching her video for sunshowers on mtv & thinking she looked an awful lot like my classmate in high school. dances like her too. i like this song.
m.i.a. - sunshowers
m.i.a. - sunshowers [surkin remix]
( & for a bit more mindfucking: her video for hombre )
aaaand then there's bjork, poster child for acceptable eccentricity, being all cute & windblown.
her new album, volta, is coming out soon & timbaland's meddling with them tracks.
timbaland + bjork - earth intruders
i like this a lot more. it doesn't stifle bjork's winding windlike voice, or her tendency to get all breathy drawling, but th tribal drums (which somehow backfired with m.i.a.) are a great touch. & th glitch, i love th glitch! & how it suddenly, almost politely, backs down to let bjork continue her caterwauling. good job. :D i'm excited for volta. haha.
i'd talk about justin timberlake, & how timbaland's golden touch made an ex-boyband boy's falsetto wail instantly Sexy. futureSexy, even. but naw. i know yr sick of my semi-fangirling. :3
justin timberlake - pose
& one more photo of bjork, for th road:
hehehe. :3
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