Wednesday, 30 November 2011

Darling you're with me, always around me

for my friend who said tonight: you are swimming underwater and it feels like you are floating on air and you can't smile because water will go in your mask. t'aime

Tuesday, 29 November 2011

Our lives were just beginning, our favorite moment was right now, our favorite songs were unwritten

η αστεία μας φωτογραφία άπ'το καλοκαίρι όταν κάναμε τις μεγαλύτερες βλακείες και γκριμάτσες, τρέχαμε με τα παγωτά που έσταζαν άπ'τη ζέστη, χοροπηδούσαμε στα πλοία και λιώναμε στο γέλιο αφού στήσαμε τη σκηνή μας σε 5 λεπτά γιατί είμαστε μάγκες

Monday, 28 November 2011

And nothing stays the same and nothing ever happens to you that will happen to you again

Sivert Høyem at The Garage, London: τα ντραμς στην αρχή αυτού του τραγουδιού ήταν η καλύτερη στιγμή της ημέρας μου! φοβερό λάιβ όλο χαμογελούσε και χόρευε το μόνο που έλειπε ήταν το φιλαράκι μου να τραγουδάμε μαζί

for english

Friday, 25 November 2011

With my hands open and my eyes open I just keep hoping that your heart opens

Have patience with everything that remains unsolved in your heart. Try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books written in a foreign language. Do not now look for the answers. They cannot now be given to you because you could not live them. It is a question of experiencing everything. At present you need to live the question. Perhaps you will gradually, without even noticing it, find yourself experiencing the answer, some distant day.
Rainer Maria Rilke

Thursday, 24 November 2011

We're all of us a million bits put together the right way

Your handwriting. The way you walk. Which china pattern you choose. It's all giving you away. Everything you do shows your hand. Everything is a self-portrait. A diary. Your whole drug history’s in a strand of your hair. Your fingernails. The forensic details. The lining of your stomach is a document. The calluses on your hand tell all your secrets. Your teeth give you away. Your accent. The wrinkles around your mouth and eyes. Everything you do shows your hand.
Chuck Palahniuk, Diary

Wednesday, 23 November 2011

I think I’ll dismember the world and then I’ll dance in the wreckage

The music enchanted the air. It was like the south wind, like a warm night, like swelling sails beneath the stars, completely and utterly unreal… It made everything spacious and colourful, the dark stream of life seemed pulsing in it; there were no burdens any more, no limits; there existed only glory and melody and love. Erich Maria Remarque, Three Comrades

Tuesday, 22 November 2011

It was standing outside, and I invited it in

There's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out but I'm too tough for him, I say, stay in there, I'm not going to let anybody see you.
Charles Bukowski

Monday, 21 November 2011

And I can tell just what you want, you don't want to be alone and I can't say it's what you know

We need enormous pockets, pockets big enough for our families and our friends, and even the people who aren't on our lists, people we've never met but still want to protect. We need pockets for boroughs and for cities, a pocket that could hold the universe.
Jonathan Safran Foer, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close

We met with a goodbye kiss I broke my wrist, it all kicked off I had no choice, you said that you didn't mind cause love's hard to find

Thereafter he gave up on a career in the arts and filled a succession of unsuitable vacancies and equally unsuitable women, falling in love whenever he took up a new job, and falling out of love - or more correctly being fallen out of love with - every time he moved on. He drove a removal van, falling in love with the first woman whose house he emptied, delivered milk in an electric float, falling in love with the cashier who paid him every Friday night, worked as an assistant to an Italian carpenter who replaced sash windows in Victorian houses and replaced Julian Treslove in the affections of the cashier, managed a shoe department in a famous London store, falling in love with the woman who managed soft furnishings on the floor above.
Howard Jacobson, The Finkler Question

Sunday, 20 November 2011

And when did your list replace the twist and turn like a fist replaced a kiss

You must always look with both of your eyes and listen with both of your ears. He says this is a very big world and there are many many things you could miss if you are not careful. There are remarkable things all the time, right in front of us, but our eyes have like the clouds over the sun and our lives are paler and poorer if we do not see them for what they are. If nobody speaks of remarkable things, how can they be called remarkable?
Jon McGregor, If Nobody Speaks of Remarkable Things

Saturday, 19 November 2011

There's a story in which my eyes shut, could you bag me up?

I make charts of airplanes going overhead. They come over at the same time each day. I have them timed. Say that I know that one of them is going to pass over at 11.15 a.m. Around eleven ten, I start listening for the sound of the motor. I try to hear the first sound. Sometimes I imagine I hear it and sometimes I’m not sure and then I begin to it, ‘way off, for sure. And the sound gets stronger. Then at 11.15 a.m. it passes overhead and the sound is as loud as it’s going to get.
Charles Bukowski, Ham on Rye

Wednesday, 16 November 2011

When the light is out and words have gone

Keep your old and wasted words my heart is breaking like you heard. But the town has always turned these lies and made them all burn, keep your old and wasted words my heart is breaking like you heard. But the town has always turned these lies and made them all burn, can you feel the leeches bite that boy that she took out tonight. He's brave and walking sure through all the spots you're working for when the light is out and words have gone let me be the one to try it on.

Tuesday, 15 November 2011

The way her shadow used to walk by your side, in a different time, a different city

He was the crazy one who had painted himself black and defeated the world. She was the book thief without the words. Trust me, though, the words were on their way, and when they arrived, she would hold them in her hands like the clouds, and she would wring them out like rain.
Markus Zusak, The Book Thief

Monday, 14 November 2011

This is what you get when you turn your back, a clear blue sky turning dirty black

In Canada pianos needed water. You opened up the back and left a full glass of water, and a month later the glass would be empty. Her father had told her about the dwarfs who drank only at pianos, never in bars.
Michael Ondaatje, The English Patient

Sunday, 13 November 2011

People like us, half of them think things will never work out, the other half believe in magic

Anna: You can ask me anything you want. Oliver: Anything? What's there? Anna: That's a tree. And Cars. Another building like this one. People in the building like us, half of them think it's never going to work out, the other half believe in magic. It's like a war between them. Oliver: How do you know so much about people? Anna: Well, you have to learn how to read their faces.

If you want a bit of love put your head on my shoulder

They lay there for a few seconds, in the dark, in the future, listening to the fabulous clockwork of their hearts and lungs, and loving each other.
Michael Chabon, The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay

Saturday, 12 November 2011

Didn't want to be your ghost, didn't want to be anyone's ghost

He remembered waking up once, listening to the wind, thinking of all the dark and rushing cold outside and all the warmth of this bed, filled with their peaceful heat under two quilts, and wishing it could be like this forever.
Stephen King, The Tommyknockers

Thursday, 10 November 2011

Go out at night with your headphones on, again

Θέλω να βγω έξω τώρα, τόσο αργά στο κρύο με την μουσική μου μόνη μου να με φυσήξει ο αέρας και να μπορώ να είμαι, χωρίς να έχει άλλο φασαρία, ούτε μέσα στο κεφάλι μου ούτε απέξω. Μόνο την μουσική να ακούω και να ξέρω ότι καμιά φορά τα λόγια μέσα στα αυτιά μου είναι αλήθειες και μόλις γυρίσω σπίτι και κοιμηθώ, θα ξυπνήσω και όλα θα έχουν φύγει.

Monday, 7 November 2011

But when my waiting is done I'm gonna give it a whirl

The sea's only gifts are harsh blows, and occasionally the chance to feel strong. Now I don't know much about the sea, but I do know that that's the way it is here. And I also know how important it is in life not necessarily to be strong but to feel strong. To measure yourself at least once. To find yourself at least once in the most ancient of human conditions. Facing the blind death stone alone, with nothing to help you but your hands and your own head.
Into The Wild

Give It a Whirl - Sivert Høyem (λάιβ σε 20 μέρες!)

Sunday, 6 November 2011

Now that we're lonely, now that there's nowhere to go

Change moves in spirals, not circles. For example, the sun goes up and then it goes down. But everytime that happens, what do you get? You get a new day. You get a new one. When you breathe, you inhale and you exhale, but every single time that you do that you’re a little bit different then the one before. We’re always changing. And its important to know that there are some changes you can’t control and that there are others you can.
Dan Dunne, Half Nelson

Wednesday, 2 November 2011

Where you been hiding lately, because we've been fighting lately, we've been fighting with the wolves

He awoke each morning with the desire to do right, to be a good and meaningful person, to be, as simple as it sounded and as impossible as it actually was, happy. And during the course of each day his heart would descend from his chest into his stomach. By early afternoon he was overcome by the feeling that nothing was right, or nothing was right for him, and by the desire to be alone. By evening he was fulfilled: alone in the magnitude of his grief, alone in his aimless guilt, alone even in his loneliness.
Jonathan Safran Foer, Everything is Illuminated

Tuesday, 1 November 2011

Give me shelter or show me heart and watch me fall apart

The rain was still falling, but the darkness had parted in the west, and there was a pink and golden billow of foamy clouds above the sea. “Look at that,” she whispered, and then after a moment: “I’d like to just get one of those pink clouds and put you in it and push you around."
F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby