Sunday, 28 April 2013

Won’t you stay a while kill some time, you know that I’ll make it easy and I know it wouldn’t be forever

She was wearing a pair of my pyjamas with the sleeves rolled up. When she laughed I fancied her again. A minute later she asked me if I loved her. I told her it didn’t mean anything but that I didn’t think so. She looked sad. But as we were getting lunch ready, and for no apparent reason, she laughed again, so I kissed her. Albert Camus, The Outsider

We fell like rain got lost into the sea, if I don't know the wind will carry me so just hold tight, though I'm far away I know I'll stay right there with you

Two Door Cinema Club at Alexandra Palace 27/4/2013: πολύ ωραία ατμόσφαιρα, πολύς κόσμος και ζεστός καιρός με κοντομάνικα και ανθρώπους στους ώμους των φίλων τους να χορεύουν να τραγουδούν να φωνάζουν να χοροπηδάνε και να παίζουν με τεράστια άσπρα μπαλόνια από το ταβάνι. και τελευταίο απ'όλα και αγαπημένο and I can tell just what you want you don't want to be alone

Where do we start if we will end apart, where do we go from here - it's head versus heart, it will all be clear someday

I loved you like a man loves a woman he never touches, only writes to, keeps little photographs of. I would have loved you more if I had sat in a small room rolling a cigarette and listened to you piss in the bathroom, but that didn’t happen. your letters got sadder. your lovers betrayed you. kid, I wrote back, all lovers betray. Charles Bukowski, Love is a Dog from Hell

Friday, 26 April 2013

And it was like knocking four quick times on the door of unhappiness

It was as if that great rush of anger had washed me clean, emptied me of hope, and, gazing up at the dark sky spangled with its signs and stars, for the first time, the first, I laid my heart open to the benign indifference of the universe. To feel it so like myself, indeed, so brotherly, made me realize that I'd been happy, and that I was happy still.
Albert Camus, The Outsider

What if I say I'm not like the others what if I say I'm not just another one of your plays

Above all, she liked being loved, and he had showered her with attentions. By so often making her aware that she existed for him he made her exist in reality. No, she was not alone…
Exile and the Kingdom, Albert Camus

Tuesday, 23 April 2013

You sit around getting older there's a joke here somewhere and it's on me, I'll shake this world off my shoulders come on baby this laugh's on me

When I think of you in the city, the sight of you among the sites, I get this sudden sinking feeling of a man about to fly

The heaviest of burdens crushes us, we sink beneath it, it pins us to the ground. But in love poetry of every age, the woman longs to be weighed down by the man's body.The heaviest of burdens is therefore simultaneously an image of life's most intense fulfillment. The heavier the burden, the closer our lives come to the earth, the more real and truthful they become. Conversely, the absolute absence of burden causes man to be lighter than air, to soar into heights, take leave of the earth and his earthly being, and become only half real, his movements as free as they are insignificant. What then shall we choose? Weight or lightness? Milan Kundera, The Unbearable Lightness of Being

With the wild wolves around you in the morning I'll call you, send it farther on and the story's all over in the morning I'll call you can't you find a clue

We cast a shadow on something wherever we stand, and it is no good moving from place to place to save things; because the shadow always follows. Choose a place where you won't do harm - yes, choose a place where you won't do very much harm, and stand in it for all you are worth, facing the sunshine. A Room with a View, E.M. Forster

Monday, 22 April 2013

You can't start a fire, you can't start a fire without a spark, this gun's for hire even if we're just dancing in the dark

She’s the kind of girl a guy meets when he’s too young, and he fucks up because there’s too much living to do. But later he realizes she’s perfect. Californication

It was one of the best days of my life, a day during which I lived my life and didn't think about my life at all

It is way past midnight on a Friday night and the two of us are out. First night back home. We walk in the party and I can instantly feel where I am. I can smell the smoke, see it flailing around the room, encasing us in its haziness, I can hear each distinct beat of the music making the floor thump and I can almost touch the dancing bodies who are surrounding my every move. You walk in front of me holding my hand, leading me to our smiling drunk friends who engulf me in their big hugs and welcome me home.

Saturday, 6 April 2013

Nobody has measured, not even poets, how much the heart can hold

Το τραγούδι και το έργο.

And those bright eyes can only meet mine across the room filled with people that are less important than you

Kindness covers all of my political beliefs. No need to spell them out. I believe that if, at the end, according to our abilities, we have done something to make others a little happier, and something to make ourselves a little happier, that is about the best we can do. To make others less happy is a crime. To make ourselves unhappy is where all crime starts. We must try to contribute joy to the world. That is true no matter what our problems, our health, our circumstances. We must try. I didn’t always know this and am happy I lived long enough to find it out. Roger Ebert

When water mirrors for you and all that you look on, just a glimmer from the way beyond, but you’re lost today, in each and every tide things are lost

You should have looked after her better, you should have looked after her more, you should have locked the door fill her coat with weapons and help her get it on 'cause one day when she goes, she's gone. The National, Val Jester

Thursday, 4 April 2013

I am here, laughter swallowing cups of pride inside it paints me with the visions I love for the future tributes a tome sunny green

To not die until I’ve accomplished something worthwhile. To not hurt anyone. To have a few lovers here and there. To write about it. To travel. To buy things for my family. To stop making my mother cry. To eat good, fresh food. To cook well. To have a mentor. To learn. To have barefoot excursions and midnight conversations with pretty-eyed girls. To live in a hotel room with a huge, white bed. To have wine parties with old friend who have wondered where I’ve been. To have a collection of vinyl records. To be friends with the invisible people in the invisible towns. To have a local wine-shop owner greet me by name as I walk into his store. To watch the sun rise a few times. To watch the sun set every time. To write a perfect sentence. To read all the great books. To dream about what could have been. To see a perfect opportunity for love and walk in the other direction. To find passion. To make people think. Isn’t it Pretty to Think So? by Nick Miller