Thursday, 27 December 2012

Outside the rain is tapping on the leaves, to me it sounds like they're applauding us, the quiet love we've made

Time to leave now, get out of this room, go somewhere, anywhere; sharpen this feeling of happiness and freedom, stretch your limbs, fill your eyes, be awake, wider awake, vividly awake in every sense and every pore. Stefan Zweig

I wanted love, I needed love, most of all, most of all, someone said true love was dead and I'm bound to fall, bound to fall for you

The Black Keys at the O2 Arena 13/12/2012 (support: The Maccabees): my favourite concert of 2012, my two favourites of the year together will infinite lights, happy friends on stage and the best songs making me happy. the maccabees, so sweet and amazing with the songs and the black keys the coolest guys on this planet. can't wait to drive with them singing in my ears.

High-speed conversation, speedin' on down the line, looked in your eyes said the saddest goodbye but I never felt more alive

It's like photographs, they've always fascinated me. You see this frozen image of a guy with a caption underneath. Maybe he was a coward. Maybe he was a nice guy. But at the moment it was taken, no one can really say who he was, what he was thinking about. His wife? His mistress? The past? The future? Basketball? Pierrot le fou

Tuesday, 25 December 2012

I will miss you and your very slow typing and your very bad driving

It’s harder to talk about, but what I really, really, really want for Christmas is just this: I want to be 5 years old again for an hour. I want to laugh a lot and cry a lot. I want to be picked or rocked to sleep in someone’s arms, and carried up to be just one more time. I know what I really want for Christmas: I want my childhood back. People who think good thoughts give good gifts. Robert Fulghum 
All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten
Christmas in Athens 1960

Tuesday, 11 December 2012

And cover cover all those boys that search for love in your room cause lust is just a child's game and you, oh you were always late to bloom

If you do not join the dancing you will feel foolish. So why not dance? And i will tell you a secret: If you do not join the dance, we will know you are a fool. But if you dance, we will think well of you for trying. if you dance badly to begin and we laugh, what is the sin in that? We will begin there.
Robert Fulghum, What On Earth Have I Done?

Go your way I'll take the long way 'round, I'll find my own way down, there will be things you never asked her oh how they tear at you now

time-lapse from a Ben Howard show

And you laugh like you've never been lonely, oh you laugh like there's hope in the story that's alright honey, that's alright with me

I have a million things to talk to you about. All I want in this world is you. I want to see you and talk. I want the two of us to begin everything from the beginning. Haruki Murakami, Norwegian Wood

Saturday, 8 December 2012

I don't always get the way you feel but now I've learned to live with that, looks like I'm growing up beside you

I listened to your singing, to your hopes, your desires, your music. You listened to mine. We were close, so close, ever so close. We went to the movies, we swam, we laughed. You screamed, sometimes for a reason and sometimes without. Time went by, time flew. Paris je t'aime

Seal my heart and break my pride I've nowhere to stand and now nowhere to hide

That was a memorable day to me, for it made great changes in me. But, it is the same with any life. Imagine one selected day struck out of it and think how different its course would have been. Pause, you who read this, and think for a long moment of the long chain of iron or gold, of thorns or flowers, that would never have bound you, but for the formation of the first link on that memorable day. Charles Dickens, Great Expectations

Wednesday, 5 December 2012

And after the storm, I run and run as the rains come and I look up, on my knees and out of luck I look up

Men cannot know what it is to be together without otherwise knowing what it is to be apart. If all the world were love, then, how could love exist? This is why we turn away from each other on moments of great happiness and closeness. How can we know happiness and closeness without contrasting them, like lights? 
Jack Kerouac

We just play our part, adventure in our head no adventure in our heart, roll back your eyes let me in or let me go

I bet you can't do everything I can

And there will come a time, you'll see, with no more tears and love will not break your heart, but dismiss your fears

Relationships like this one are not supposed to happen to people like us. When I told him that, everything changed. It was that moment when you know you can’t take your words back anymore because they correspond exactly to your thoughts. It was an emptiness I had been feeling for a long time, a gap in my body I couldn’t fill. People change and characters change but we grow and we often grow separately. And it’s not bad but it’s not enough. Still we settle, for long times we settle and we wait, because we take care of the bond, we protect it in order to have it in the future. But how can we take care of the future without neglecting the present?

You are not weak just because your heart feels so heavy

The very basic core of a man’s living spirit is his passion for adventure. The joy of life comes from our encounters with new experiences, and hence there is no greater joy than to have an endlessly changing horizon, for each day to have a new and different sun. Into The Wild

Sound is what keeps me looking for your eyes and sound of your breath in the cold and the sound will bring me home again

Tuesday, 4 December 2012

I'm going all out and I'm thinking you're just as bad, two years on and I'm still that same girl I was

I’m free, I think. I shut my eyes and think hard and deep about how free I am, but I can’t really understand what it means. All I know is I’m totally alone. All alone in an unfamiliar place, like some solitary explorer who’s lost his compass and his map. Is this what it means to be free?
Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore