almost everthing is random

email from paulo.

2009-02-27T19:12:00.000-08:00

I reaaally don't know why I'm back...almost one month have passed since I have made my last post but just right now as I was scanning through my e-mail and I didn't noticed that I have received a Christmas greeting! From none other than my favorite novelist...well then I guess this person never ceases to amaze everyone by his work...and I don't even need to mention his name. Let me share to you a short story that he had given to me...

On Christmas Eve, the king invited the prime minister to join him for their usual walk together. He enjoyed seeing the decorations in the streets, but since he didn’t want his subjects to spend too much money on these just to please him, the two men always disguised themselves as traders from some far distant land.
They walked through the centre of the city, admiring the lights, the Christmas trees, the candles burning on the steps of the houses, the stalls selling gifts, and the men, women and children hurrying off to celebrate a family Christmas around a table laden with food.
On the way back, they passed through a poorer area, where the atmosphere was quite different. There were no lights, no candles, no delicious smells of food about to be served. There was hardly a soul in the street, and, as he did every year, the king remarked to the prime minister that he really must pay more attention to the poor in his kingdom. The prime minister nodded, knowing that the matter would soon be forgotten again, buried beneath the day-to-day bureaucracy of budgets to be approved and discussions with foreign dignitaries.
Suddenly, they heard music coming from one of the poorest houses. The hut was so ramshackle and the rotten wooden timbers so full of cracks, that they were able to peer through and see what was happening inside. And what they saw was utterly absurd: an old man in a wheelchair apparently crying, a shaven-headed young woman dancing, and a young man with sad eyes shaking a tambourine and singing a folk song.
‘I’m going to find out what they’re up to,’ said the king.
He knocked. The music stopped, and the young man came to the door.
‘We are merchants in search of a place to sleep. We heard the music, saw that you were still awake, and wondered if we could spend the night here.’
‘You can find shelter in a hotel in the city. We, alas, cannot help you. Despite the music, this house is full of sadness and suffering.’
‘And may we know why?’
‘It’s all because of me.’ It was the old man in the wheelchair who spoke. ‘I’ve spent my life teaching my son calligraphy, so that he could one day get a job as a palace scribe. But the years have passed and no post has ever come up. And then, last night, I had a stupid dream: an angel appeared to me and asked me to buy a silver goblet because, the angel said, the king would be coming to visit me. He would drink from the goblet and give my son a job.
‘The angel was so persuasive that I decided to do as he said. Since we have no money, my daughter-in-law went to the market this morning to sell her hair so that we could buy that goblet over there. The two of them are doing their best to get me in the Christmas spirit by singing and dancing, but it’s no use.’
The king saw the silver goblet, asked to be given a little water to quench his thirst and, before leaving, said to the family:
‘Do you know, we were talking to the prime minister only today, and he told us that an opening for a palace scribe would be announced next week.’
The old man nodded, not really believing what he was hearing, and bade farewell to the strangers. The following morning, however, a royal proclamation was read out in all the city streets; a new scribe was needed at court. On the appointed day, the audience room at the palace was packed with people eager to compete for that much-sought-after post. The prime minister entered and asked everyone there to prepare their paper and pens:
‘Here is the subject of the composition: Why is an old man weeping, a shaven-headed woman dancing, and a sad young man singing?’
A murmur of disbelief went round the room. No one knew how to tell such a story, apart, that is, from the shabbily dressed young man sitting in one corner, who smiled broadly and began to write.

Based on an Indian story.
Translated from the Portuguese by Margaret Jull Costa

the prayer that I forgot - paulo coelho

2009-01-01T23:18:00.000-08:00

Lord, protect our doubts, because Doubt is a way of praying. It is Doubt that makes us grow because it forces us to look fearlessly at the many answers that exist to one question. And in order for this to be possible…

Lord, protect our decision, becasue making decisions is a way of praying. Give us the courage, after our doubts, to be able to choose between one road and another. May our YES always be a YES, an our NO always be a NO. Once we have chosen our road may we never look back nor allow our soul to be eaten away by remorse. And in order for this to be possible…

Lord, protect our actions, because Action is a way of praying. May our daily bread be the result of the very best that we carry within us. May we, through work and Action, share a little of the love we receive. And in order for this to be possible…

Lord, protect our dreams, because to Dream is a way of praying. Make sure that, regardless of our age or our circumstances, we are capable of keeping alight in our heart the sacred flame of hope and perseverance. And in order for this to be possible…

Lord, give us enthusiasm, because Enthusiasm is a way of praying. It is what binds us to the Heavens and to Earth, to grown-ups, and to children; it is what tells us that our desires are important and deserve our best efforts. It is Enthusiasm that reaffirms to us that everything is possible, as long as we are totally committed to what we are doing. And in order for this to be possible…

Lord, protect us, because Life is the only way we have of making manifest Your miracle. May the earth continue to transform seeds into wheat, may we continue to transmute wheat into bread. And this is only possible if we have Love; therefore, do not leave us in solitude. Always give us Your company, and the company of men and women who have doubts, who act and dream and feel enthusiasm, and who live each day as if it were totally dedicated to Your glory. Amen.

things that I really love about her

2008-12-14T04:49:00.000-08:00

1. everything.

take off and landings

2008-12-03T02:56:00.000-08:00

On this coldest of january nights
We drive out past the runway and watch the planes go flying by
The runway lights are the deepest blue like the colors of your eyes
So close them tight and kiss me one last time

If you could go anywhere right now
Where would you go?
And would you miss me when you get there?
No place that I would rather be.

Please don’t let me go falling from the sky
The “fasten seatbelt” sign just needs to go out
If only you could be right here by my side
Home wouldn’t seem so far from here

Passport, customs, carry on, remember
To shut off all of your electronic devices
Fell asleep on tuesday woke up monday afternoon
I slept right through your international date line.

yellowcard - only one

2008-11-26T03:09:00.000-08:00

Broken this fragile thing now
And I can’t, I can’t pick up the pieces
And I’ve thrown my words all around
But I can’t, I can’t give you a reason

I feel so broken up (so broken up)
And I give up (I give up)
I just want to tell you so you know

Here I go, scream my lungs out and try to get to you
You are my only one
I let go, there’s just no one that gets me like you do
You are my only, my only one

Made my mistakes, let you down
And I can’t, I can’t hold on for too long
Ran my whole life in the ground
And I can’t, I can’t get up when you’re gone

And something’s breaking up (breaking up)
I feel like giving up (like giving up)
I won’t walk out until you know

Here I go, scream my lungs out and try to get to you
You are my only one
I let go, there’s just no one who gets me like you do
You are my only my only one

Here I go so dishonestly
Leave a note for you my only one
And I know you can see right through me
So let me go and you will find someone

Here I go, scream my lungs out and try to get to you
You are my only one
I let go, there’s just no one, no one like you
You are my only, my only one
My only one
My only one
My only one
You are my only, my only one

the story of the pencil

2008-11-22T20:51:00.000-08:00

A boy was watching his grandmother write a letter. At one point, he asked:

“Are you writing a story about what we’ve done? Is it a story about me?”

His grandmother stopped writing her letter and said to her grandson:

“I am writing about you, actually, but more important than the words is the pencil I’m using. I hope you will be like this pencil when you grow up.”

Intrigued, the boy looked at the pencil. It didn’t seem very special.

“But it’s just like any other pencil I’ve ever seen!”

“That depends on how you look at things. It has five qualities which, if you manage to hang on to them, will make you a person who is always at peace with the world.

“First quality: you are capable of great things, but you must never forget that there is a hand guiding your steps. We call that hand God, and He always guides us according to His will.

“Second quality: now and then, I have to stop writing and use a sharpener. that make the pencil suffer a little, but afterwards, he’s much sharper. So you, too, must learn to bear certain pains and sorrows, because they will make you a better person.

“Third quality: the pencil always allows us to use an eraser to rub out any mistakes. This means that correcting something we did is not necessarily a bad thing; it helps to keep us on the road to justice.

“Fouth quality: what really matters in a pencil is not its wooden exterior, but the graphite inside. So always pay attention to what is happening inside you.

“Finally, the pencil’s fifth quality: it always leaves a mark. In just the same way, you should know that every thing you do in life will leave a mark, so try to be conscious of that in your every action.”

Dhammapada (attributed to Buddha)

2008-11-15T21:26:00.000-08:00

It would be better if, instead of a thousand words,
There was only one, a word that brought Peace.
It would be better if, instead of a thousand poem,
There was only one, a poem that revealed true Beauty.
It would be better if, instead of a thousand songs,
There was only one, a song that spread Happiness.

politically hilarious

2008-11-10T06:03:00.000-08:00

THE MAYOR of a city in a developing country invited the mayor of another municipality over for dinner. The visitor was very impressed with his host’s affluent lifestyle and asked him how he managed to live so well. "See that bridge?", the first mayor said, pointing to a distant structure. "Five percent."

The visiting mayor went home and six months later invited the first mayor over to his new mansion. The first mayor was astounded and asked his friend the secret to his sudden wealth.

"See that bridge?", the second mayor said, gesturing out a nearby window.

"What bridge?", asked the visitor.

"One Hundred percent." - Atul Suraiya (taken from Reader’s Digest

11-04-2008

2008-11-06T03:52:00.000-08:00

Things just got way out of hand. And no, not drunk at all…just had a drink the normal rhum as usual…the cheap one. He really did not know, just got out of hand. Then he had to call, the same call over and over and over since August. Long hours past, goodbyes, kisses, and hugs, went flying away like bats on a 3 am flight to Mars. Smoke like he always did…zzz. Woke up. Then it got out of hand. Toxic spreads like disease, and no, he’s not drunk at all…not at all. Something’s not right, then he let it out. puking out to death. puke like he’s pulling his guts out. Still something’s not right. Blood…all over his shirt, coffee spills…and blood as if mixing a cocktail. Sight’s fainting, what’s happening? Something’s not really right, and no he’s not drunk at all. He had to fall…never to wake up, not even coffee can wake him up now. It’s okay, it’s all over now…tears will follow soon. (my eulogy to Rodolfo Lui)

blank

2008-11-04T06:53:00.001-08:00

It's all blank...although you really...badly want something out but then you can't. It's all blank. Too many things that I want to do or type or read but just can't happen to let it all out. Maybe I'm not fit for the job...thinking. Then I stop. Can't seem to calm the traffic, you go for a smoke then It's going to be all blank again. From the moment you light the tip of the cigarette taking all your effort to breathe. Delete. No...that's not I'm going to say either. I'm just typing random here, trying to pick up the thoughts, thinking that I might have something useful. Delete. Stop. Read. Review...this thing here is going no where, I could go on typing thinking about something but can't seem to put something that's why it would be called blank...why not random or whatever. It's all blank because the moment you think of something too deeply, you'll have to stop. Because it doesn't have any point of moving on if you're just doing something for the sake of doing something...blank. and boring. Read. Stop. Post.

living your own legend

2008-10-23T03:56:00.000-07:00

I reckon that it takes about three minutes to read each page in this book. Well, according to statistics, in that same space of time, 300 people will die, and another 620 will be born.

I might take half an hour to write each page: I’m sitting at my computer, concentrating on what I’m doing, with books all around me, ideas in my head, cars driving past outside. Everything seems perfectly normal, and yes, during those thirty minutes, 3,000 people have died, and 6,200 have just seen the light of the world for the first time.

Where are those thousands of families who have just begun to mourn the loss of someone, or to smile at the arrival of a son, daughter, nephew, niece, brother, or sister?

I stop and reflect a little. Perhaps many of those people were reaching in the end of a long an painful illness, and some people are relieved when the Angel comes for them. Then again, hundreds of those children who have just been born will be abandoned the next moment and will go on to form part of the death statistics before I have even finished writing this page.

How strange. A simple statistic, which I happened to read, and suddenly I’m aware of all those deaths and entrances, those smiles and tears. How many of them are leaving this life while alone in their rooms, with no one relizing what’s happening? How many will be born in secret and then abandoned outside a children’s home or a convent?

I think to myself that I was once part of the birth statistics and will, one day, be included amongst the numbers of dead. It is good to be aware that I will die. Ever since I walked the road to Santiago, I have understood that, although life goes on and we are all eternal, this existence will one day end.

People do not think very much about death. They spend their lives worrying about absurdities; the put things off, and fail to notice important moments. They don’t take risks, because they think it’s dangerous. They complain a lot, but are afraid to take action. They want everything to change, but they themselves refuse to change.

If they thought a little more about death, they would never forget to make that much-postponed phone call. They would be a little crazier. They would not be afraid of this incarnation coming to an end, because you cannot fear something that is going to happen anyway.

The Indians say: “Today is as good day as any to leave this world.” And a wise man once said: “Death is always sitting by your side so that, when you need to do something important, it will give you the strenght and the courage that you need.”

I hope that you, dear reader, have got this far. It would be foolish to be frightened by death, because all of us, sooner or later, are going to die. And only those who accept this fact are prepared for life. -(Paulo Coelho)

looking at other people's gardens

2008-10-18T21:21:00.000-07:00

"You can give a fool a thousand intellects, but the only one he will want is yours," says an Arabic proverb. When we start planting the garden of our life, we glance to one side and notice our neighbor is there, spying. He himself is incapable of growing anything, but he likes to give advice on when to sow actions, when to fertilize thoughts, and when to water achievements.

If we listen to what this neighbor is saying, we will end up working for him, and the garden of our life will be our neighbor's idea. We will end up forgetting about the earth we cultivated with so much sweat and fertilized with so many blessings. We will forget that each centimeter of earth has its mysteries that only the patient hand of the gardener can decipher. We will no longer pay attention to the sun, the rain, and the seasons; we will concentrate instead only on that head peering at us over the hedge.

The fool who loves giving advice on our garden never tends his own plants at all.

how to spot an urban myth

2008-10-16T03:47:00.000-07:00

Got this while I was browsing the net…not that I intend to find this certain topic, just felt like posting that’s all. By the way, it was porn.

DON’T know what to believe? Urban myths spread like wildfire - at the bar, via e-mail, even in local newspapers and on TV news reports. Here are some way to spot one, according to journalist and creator of the Urban Myth board game, Scott Magnish:

- Your brother-in-law’s flatmate’s friend: myths are never first-hand and almost always many times removed.

- Semi-anonymous attribution: if the suspected myth is in the news, quotes are almost untraceable, as no proper names are given. (e.g. "police spokesperson" is quoted, not indicating who’s that "spokesperson" the news is referring to.)

- Too good to be true: "If you think about the story, you can poke a couple of holes in it yourself"-Magnish.

- The truth is on the Internet: c’mon guys, I think I made my point quite clear…everything’s on the Internet. Including porn.

to re-use or not to re-use

2008-10-14T06:49:00.000-07:00

You might be helping the environment when you re-use water bottles, but researchers say you could also be risking your health. A study of kids’ re-used water bottles at a Canadian secondary school found the kinds and levels of bacteria that would prompt a health department warning to boil tap water. About a third of the samples were contaminated, some with feacal bacteria that probably came from the kinds’ hands and mouths as they repeatedly used the same bottles without washing them. However, study suggests the kind of washing needed to kill the bacteria might accelerate the breakdwon of plastic, potentially causing the toxic chemicals (DEHA) to migrate into the liquid.

Food safety and plastics experts contend, however, that many bottles are safe as the are made with non harmful substance (i’d rather not mention abbreviations to express the content more effeciently). Although these so called non-harmful bottles are design for single use, the can be re-used without any health risk provided that they are cleaned and handled hygienically…tadaaa.

the tao of homer

2008-10-11T21:12:00.000-07:00

Feeling lost and adrift? Gain inner peace from reading Homer. No, not the Greek guy. Homer Simpson. Here are some Homeric jewels to live by.

- "The answers to life's problems aren't at the bottom of a bottle. They're on TV."

- "What's the point of going out? We're just going to end up back here anyway."

- "Trying is the first step towards failure."

- "You can't keep blaming yourself. Just blame yourself once and move on."

- "Doughnuts. Is there anything they can't do?"

- "The three little sentences that will get you through life. No. 1: Cover for me. No. 2: Oh, good idea boss. No. 3: It was like that when I got here." (-lifeisajoke.com)

how one thing can contain everything

2008-10-08T05:18:00.000-07:00

A meeting in the house of Sao Paulo-born painter based in New York. We are talking about angels, and about alchemy. At one point, I try to explain to the other guests the alchemical idea that each of us contains the whole universe and that we are, therefore, responsible for its well-being. i struggle to find the right words, but cannot come up with a good image that will explain my point of view.

The painter, who has been listening in silence, asks everyone to look out of the window of his studio.

"What can you see?" he asks.

"A street in Greenwich Village," someone replies.

The painter sticks a piece of paper over the window so that the street can no longer be seen; then, with a penknife, he cuts a small square in the paper.

"And if someone were to look through there, what would he see?"

"The same street," comes the reply.

The painter cuts several squares in the paper.

"Just as each of these holes contains within it the whole view of the same street, so each of us contains in our soul the same universe," he says.

And all of us applaud the lovely image he has found.

too much D can cause you the C

2008-10-06T10:02:00.000-07:00

The connection between sunlight, vitamin D and cancer is growing stronger. And getting the right amount of D is key: Scientists in Norway, Sweden, and Finland analysed blood samples of 622 men with prostate cancer and 1451 cancer-free men. Those with the lowest amounts of vitamin D were 50 per cent more likely to develop prostate cancer than those with an average amount. Yet men with the highest levels of D had a 70 per cent higher risk.

The body makes vitamin D when skin is exposed to sunlight. Getting enough D can be as easy as exposing your face and forearms for 10 to 20 minutes in the noonday sun, but of course this would probably not apply here in our country since noontime heat is one bad case of a sunburn, now try exposing your face with that ass wipe. You can also get D from milk and cold-water fish like salmon (maybe a much more non sweaty option). A safe target is 600-800 IUs a day. And until we know more about the relationship between too much D and cancer, you may want to avoid D supplements.

i write you just to let you know...

2008-10-03T20:31:00.000-07:00

That I'm alright. Can't say I'm sad to see go. Cause I'm not. Well I'm not. So we'll just take it back...

existentialism

2008-09-29T08:42:00.000-07:00

EXISTENTIALISM is a philosophical movement which emphasizes on individual existence, freedom, and choice.
There are several philosophical positions all related to existential philosophy but the main identifiable common proposition, is that existence precedes essence. By this, existentialism states that man exists and in that existence man defines himself and the world in his own subjectivity, and wanders between choice, freedom, and existential angst.

To put this simply, existentialism is a battle between you and the forces surrounding and affecting you…the simplest of all questions…where do we go from here? am I free? does my decisions lead me to what am I now and to who have I become? never ending. or is it as complex as choice itself?. Yes, choice…a mere yes or no could affect the road that you have taken. Do we simply believe that luck has played a part on our daily lives or do we stick to the infamous line that you are responsible for your own actions…it’s just a matter of choice really.

found it

2008-09-27T20:54:00.000-07:00

next post! yatta!

aquabats - super rad

2008-09-20T18:55:00.000-07:00

THIS is one bad ass band that I have ever met! yeah I know it's kinda "old school" well just to let ya know...I'm not that young enough either. One of my all time favorite tunes, very upbeat. so enjoy ska...always.hehe

I had a small friend,
Who had a fat friend
Who had a big friend
Who gave birth to many friends
With our flashlights to the sky
We waited for them to land.

I got two tall friends
Who know my small friend
Who seem to have a problem with you
They got roman candles
Bottle rockets for the vandals
Who covered our lockers in glue.

Were on our way here we go
Were gonna take over
Set it off one last time
Here we come again.

We were strangers
And we were pilgrims
Role models of the family man
Pioneers and patriarchs
Patriots and matriarchs
Staking out the promised land

Our little army
We were commandos
Gorillas with decoder rings
We felt some opposition
From some villains
Who were wishin
They could be cadets and kings.

All systems go!
Soon the world will know
The fury of attack
Feel the wrath of
The super rad
The super rad
Super rad!

And if we die
Before the battles through
Tell our moms, tell our dads
That we were super rad!

All systems go
As we step into the octagon
Feel the wrath of mission code name:
Applesauce applesauce applesauce

Super rad!

well it caught up and honestly...

2008-09-14T05:09:00.000-07:00

and honestly i really could fall for you right now... it's been eight long months and I've been keeping all those messages in my thoughts, and these thoughts flying from nowhere... a wishful thinking that somehow...even for the slightest possibility that you could feel at the very least...the same way as i do. and I'm not suppose to act or think of anything beyond this reason but how could i not think of anything other than our endless laughter because every second...every minute of the passing days you of all people have certainly swept me away. please...don't let this feeling end.

well it caught up and honestly... I've fallen for you.

taking back sunday - this photograph is proof

2008-09-12T20:45:00.000-07:00

Well, I'll wait till you listen
I won't say a word
To follow your instincts
Just never worked for me
Oh, you're silent but strong, (yeah, I'm playing that card)
And you're noticing nothing again

Now I'm lying on the table
With everything you said
Keep that in mind, the way that it felt
When the most I could do was to just blame myself

(Feel it out for once and feel nothing like everyone else)
When the most I could do was to just blame myself
And I know you know, everything
I know you didn't mean it
I know you didn't mean it

I know you know, everything (drop everything)
I know you didn't mean it (start it all over)
I know you didn't mean it (remember more than you'd like to forget)

So, we're talking forever
And you almost feel better
But, better's no excuse for tonight
You see, it's never bad enough
To just leave or give up
But, it's never good enough to feel right

Now I'm lying on the table
With everything you said
It will all catch up eventually
Well, it caught up and honestly
The weight of my decisions
Were impossible to hold
But they were never yours
They were never yours

Well I, know you know, everything
I know you didn't mean it
I know you didn't mean it

I know you know, everything (drop everything)
I know you didn't mean it (start it all over)
I know you didn't mean it (remember more than you'd like to forget)

Drop everything, start it all over
Remember more than you'd like to forget [x2]

Would you like to forget? [x2]
Drop everything, start it all over
Well, drop everything start it all over (would you like to forget)
Drop everything start it all over
Start it all...

Well I, know you know, everything
I know you didn't mean it
I know you didn't mean it

I know you know, everything (drop everything)
I know you didn't mean it (start it all over)
I know you didn't mean it (remember more than you'd like to forget)

I know you know
I know you know...you know, you know, you know...

ping...pong.

2008-09-06T21:39:00.000-07:00

Table tennis - also known as ping pong, is a sport in which two or four players hit a lightweight, hollow ball back and forth to each other with rackets (also known as 'bats' or 'paddles'). The game takes place on a hard table divided by a net. Players must allow a ball played towards them only one bounce on their side of the table and must return it so that it bounces on the opposite side. Points are scored when a player fails to return the ball within the rules. Play is fast and demands quick reactions. A skilled player can impart several varieties of spin to the ball, altering its trajectory and limiting an opponent's options to great advantage.

And now that the formal definition of the sport have been made, I would like to show you japan's own definition of ping pong. As to some would say, this perhaps is the most boring game mankind has ever invented...ever! but maybe you should get second opinions as to how the game should be well appreciated you damn morons...one must have quick reflexes and reactions, not to mention having a very good hand-eye coordination. Well, with no further adieu, i would like to present to you a sample game of ping pong. enjoy. no wait...

i miss you - incubus

2008-09-05T20:34:00.000-07:00

To see you when I wake up
Is a gift I didn't think could be real.
To know that you feel the same as I do
Is a three-fold, Utopian dream.

You do something to me that I can't explain.
So would I be out of line if I said "I miss you"?

I see your picture.
I smell your skin on
The empty pillow next to mine.
You have only been gone ten days,
But already I'm wasting away.
I know I'll see you again
Whether far or soon.
But I need you to know that I care,
And I miss you.

dot dot dot...

2008-09-04T11:02:00.000-07:00

"how people treat you is their karma; how you react is yours."
- wayne dyer

if the moon spoke to anyone, it would be to a schizoprenic

2008-09-03T09:29:00.000-07:00

If I had a choice, if I had understood earlier that the reason my days were all the same was because I wanted them like that, perhaps… But the reply was always the same: There is no perhaps, because there is no choice.

PROLOGUE

2008-08-31T08:53:00.000-07:00

The Alchemist picked up a book that someone in the caravan had brought. Leafing though the pages, he found a story about Narcissus.

The alchemist knew the legend of Narcisus, a youth who knelt daily beside a lake to contemplate his own beauty. He was so fascinated by himself that, one morning, he fell into the lake and drowned. At the spot where he fell, a flower was born, which was called the narcissus.

But this was not how the author of the book ended the story…

He said that when Narcissus died, the goddesses of the forest appeared and found the lake, which had been fresh water, transformed into a lake of salty tears.

"Why do you weep?" the goddesses asked.

"I weep for Narcissus," the lake replied.

"Ah, it is no surprise that you weep for Narcissus," they said, "for though we always pursued him in the forest, you alone could contemplate his beauty close at hand."

"But…was Narcissus beautiful?" the lake asked.

"Who better than you to know that?" the goddesses said in wonder. "After all, it was by your banks that he kenlt each day to contemplate himself!"

The lake was silent for some time. Finally, it said:

"I weep for Narcissus, but I never noticed that Narcissus was beautiful. I weep because, each time he knelt beside my banks, I could see, in the depths of his eyes, my own beauty reflected."

"What a lovely story," the Alchemist thought. - excerpts from Paulo Coelho’s "The Alchemist"

denali

2008-08-29T06:23:00.000-07:00

The Story
In a story that never suffers from its retelling, Denali formed in 2000 when an unheard of singer named Maura Davis asked her brother, Engine Down's Keeley Davis if he wanted to start a band with her. One could only imagine his surprise. Not only had the then-19-year-old enchantress yet to write a proper song, but no one knew she had a voice in her as powerful and as compelling as the one that would easily exhale the band's first dozen songs-all of which would lead to the recruiting of fellow Richmond, VA scene vets Cam DiNunzio and Jonathan Fuller, who under the name Denali would quickly became one of the hardest sought after bands in the underground. Signing to Jade Tree a year later, the dramatic four piece has since taken on a chilly place in the indie rock landscape by writing truly cinematic and spacious pop songs, that come from behind you both softly and slowly. As if there were any other way.

When their self-titled debut appeared in 2002, Denali seemed to come out of nowhere, emerging with an incongruously loud bang for a band with such atmospheric control and melodic nuance. Record labels from major to minor-league were buzzing about their first rough recordings. In reality, the members of Denali are no new-comers: bassist/keyboardist Keely Davis and drummer Jonathan Fuller are half of Engine Down, guitarist Cam DiNunzio had been touring with bands for roughly ten years in a slew of seminal east coast indie and hardcore bands. But it’s the classically trained Maura Davis who ultimately defines the band with her unmistakable voice.

After eschewing major label temptation to sign with Jade Tree, Denali released their self-titled debut record, and immediately won over not only indie audiences, but also the curiosity of people outside the illusive "scene," those who recognized something salient and unique in the band’s music. For more information visit their website at www.denalimusic.com

Denali - Hold Your Breath

maura davis

2008-08-24T22:02:00.000-07:00

Maura Davis is the former front-woman and lead singer of the American indie rock band Denali from Richmond, Virginia, United States. Most recently she fronted the alternative group Ambulette, formerly known as Bella Lea, who released an EP on Astralwerks in 2005, and broke up in 2007 before releasing a first full-length album.

Maura is noted for her soaring vocals and minimalist lyrics. In addition to having a unique ethereal vocal style, she can play both keyboards and guitar. She seems to favor Fender Telecasters in concert (seen live while playing with Ambulette), as well as a variety of other guitars. She is noted for playing a vintage Rhodes Piano on both Denali albums, their self-titled album and its follow-up, The Instinct. She has also been seen playing a number of synthesizers, including her Nord Electro, in Ambulette. For live use this small, lightweight instrument, has taken over from the Rhodes, which is notoriously heavy at around 200 pounds.

Recently she has teamed back up with her brother Keeley in the band Glös.

denali - the instinct

2008-08-24T00:12:00.000-07:00

That moment something’s wrong
That moment i feel
Instead of wasting time
I’d like to rewind

Some go away before you’re gone
And there’s no way that
it’s suppose to happen
In between the instinct
After sundown after sundown

There’s no mistake
wait for my return and
decide my fate
I’ll be without you only for a while
That’s all i can take
that’s all

No more distractions
No more excuse
It’s just you and me now
It’s just you only you

There’s no mistake
Wait for my return and
decide my fate
I’ll be without you only for awhile
That’s all i can take
That’s all

All in between the instinct to be
It’s only you

i can't trust myself with anything but this.

2008-08-22T21:20:00.000-07:00

enjoy.

allegory of the cave

2008-08-21T20:56:00.000-07:00

Is a resident of the cave (a prisoner, as it were) likely to want to make the ascent to the outer world? Why or why not? What does the sun symbolize in the allegory? And now, I said, let me show in a figure how far our nature is enlightened or unenlightened:--Behold! human beings living in an underground den, which has a mouth open towards the light and reaching all along the den; here they have been from their childhood, and have their legs and necks chained so that they cannot move, and can only see before them, being prevented by the chains from turning round their heads. Above and behind them a fire is blazing at a distance, and between the fire and the prisoners there is a raised way; and you will see, if you look, a low wall built along the way, like the screen which marionette players have in front of them, over which they show the puppets.

I see.

And do you see, I said, men passing along the wall carrying all sorts of vessels, and statues and figures of animals made of wood and stone and various materials, which appear over the wall? Some of them are talking, others silent.

You have shown me a strange image, and they are strange prisoners.

Like ourselves, I replied; and they see only their own shadows, or the shadows of one another, which the fire throws on the opposite wall of the cave?

True, he said; how could they see anything but the shadows if they were never allowed to move their heads?

And of the objects which are being carried in like manner they would only see the shadows?

Yes, he said.

And if they were able to converse with one another, would they not suppose that they were naming what was actually before them?

Very true.

And suppose further that the prison had an echo which came from the other side, would they not be sure to fancy when one of the passers-by spoke that the voice which they heard came from the passing shadow?

No question, he replied.

To them, I said, the truth would be literally nothing but the shadows of the images.

That is certain.

And now look again, and see what will naturally follow if the prisoners are released and disabused of their error. At first, when any of them is liberated and compelled suddenly to stand up and turn his neck round and walk and look towards the light, he will suffer sharp pains; the glare will distress him, and he will be unable to see the realities of which in his former state he had seen the shadows; and then conceive some one saying to him, that what he saw before was an illusion, but that now, when he is approaching nearer to being and his eye is turned towards more real existence, he has a clearer vision,--what will be his reply? And you may further imagine that his instructor is pointing to the objects as they pass and requiring him to name them,--will he not be perplexed? Will he not fancy that the shadows which he formerly saw are truer than the objects which are now shown to him?

Far truer.

And if he is compelled to look straight at the light, will he not have a pain in his eyes which will make him turn away to take refuge in the objects of vision which he can see, and which he will conceive to be in reality clearer than the things which are now being shown to him?

True, he said.

And suppose once more, that he is reluctantly dragged up a steep and rugged ascent, and held fast until he is forced into the presence of the sun himself, is he not likely to be pained and irritated? When he approaches the light his eyes will be dazzled, and he will not be able to see anything at all of what are now called realities.

Not all in a moment, he said.

He will require to grow accustomed to the sight of the upper world. And first he will see the shadows best, next the reflections of men and other objects in the water, and then the objects themselves; then he will gaze upon the light of the moon and the stars and the spangled heaven; and he will see the sky and the stars by night better than the sun or the light of the sun by day?

Certainly.

Last of all he will be able to see the sun, and not mere reflections of him in the water, but he will see him in his own proper place, and not in another; and he will contemplate him as he is.

Certainly.

He will then proceed to argue that this is he who gives the season and the years, and is the guardian of all that is in the visible world, and in a certain way the cause of all things which he and his fellows have been accustomed to behold?

Clearly, he said, he would first see the sun and then reason about him.

And when he remembered his old habitation, and the wisdom of the den and his fellow-prisoners, do you not suppose that he would felicitate himself on the change, and pity them?

Certainly, he would.

And if they were in the habit of conferring honors among themselves on those who were quickest to observe the passing shadows and to remark which of them went before, and which followed after, and which were together; and who were therefore best able to draw conclusions as to the future, do you think that he would care for such honors and glories, or envy the possessors of them? Would he not say with Homer,

Better to be the poor servant of a poor master, and to endure anything, rather than think as they do and live after their manner?

Yes, he said, I think that he would rather suffer anything than entertain these false notions and live in this miserable manner.

Imagine once more, I said, such a one coming suddenly out of the sun to be replaced in his old situation; would he not be certain to have his eyes full of darkness?

To be sure, he said.

And if there were a contest, and he had to compete in measuring the shadows with the prisoners who had never moved out of the den, while his sight was still weak, and before his eyes had become steady (and the time which would be needed to acquire this new habit of sight might be very considerable), would he not be ridiculous? Men would say of him that up he went and down he came without his eyes; (2)and that it was better not even to think of ascending; and if any one tried to loose another and lead him up to the light, let them only catch the offender, and they would put him to death. (3)

No question, he said.

This entire allegory, I said, you may now append, dear Glaucon, to the previous argument; the prison-house is the world of sight, the light of the fire is the sun, and you will not misapprehend me if you interpret the journey upwards to be the ascent of the soul into the intellectual world according to my poor belief, which, at your desire, I have expressed--whether rightly or wrongly God knows. But whether true or false, my opinion is that in the world of knowledge the idea of good appears last of all, and is seen only with an effort; and, when seen, is also inferred to be the universal author of all things beautiful and right, parent of light and of the lord of light in this visible world, Here Plato describes his notion of God in a way that was influence profoundly Christian theologians. and the immediate source of reason and truth in the intellectual; and that this is the power upon which he would act rationally either in public or private life must have his eye fixed.

I agree, he said, as far as I am able to understand you.

Moreover, I said, you must not wonder that those who attain to this beatific vision are unwilling to descend to human affairs; for their souls are ever hastening into the upper world where they desire to dwell; which desire of theirs is very natural, if our allegory may be trusted.

Yes, very natural.

And is there anything surprising in one who passes from divine contemplations to the evil state of man, misbehaving himself in a ridiculous manner; if, while his eyes are blinking and before he has become accustomed to the surrounding darkness, he is compelled to fight in courts of law, or in other places, about the images or the shadows of images of justice, and is endeavoring to meet the conception of those who have never yet seen absolute justice?

Anything but surprising, he replied.

Any one who has common sense will remember that the bewilderments of the eyes are of two kinds, and arise from two causes, either from coming out of the light or from going into the light, which is true of the mind's eye; and he who remembers this when he sees any one whose vision is perplexed and weak, will not be too ready to laugh; he will first ask whether that soul of man has come out of the brighter life, and is unable to see because unaccustomed to the dark, or having turned from darkness to the day is dazzled by excess of light. And he will count the one happy in his condition and state of being, and he will pity the other; or, if he have a mind to laugh at the soul which comes from below into the light, there will be more reason in this than in the laugh which greets him who returns from above out of the light into the den.

That, he said, is a very just distinction.

But then, if I am right, certain professors of education must be wrong when they say that they can put a knowledge into the soul which was not there before, like sight into blind eyes.

They undoubtedly say this, he replied.

Whereas our argument shows that the power and capacity of learning exists in the soul already; and that just as the eye was unable to turn from darkness to light without the whole body, so too the instrument of knowledge can only by the movement of the whole soul be turned from the world of becoming into that of being, and learn by degrees to endure the sight of being and of the brightest and best of being, or in other words, of the good.

xXxhatredxXxpainxXxfiestaxXx

2008-08-19T09:12:00.000-07:00

ahh... the stare that pierces through you. i'd like to see you take my place; watching you while life slowly leaves you away as i slit your throat... twisting... turning... the pain and feeling that burns like hell. and when all is said and done i'll be feasting at your corpse... (lechon)

the strokes - heart in a cage

2008-08-05T09:39:00.000-07:00

I don't feel better when I'm fucking around
And I don't write better when I'm stuck in the ground
So don't teach me a lesson
'cause I've already learned
Yeah, the sun will be shining
And my children will burn

Oh the heart beats in its cage

I don't want what you want
I don't feel what you feel
See, I'm stuck in a city
But I belong in a field

Yeah we got left, left, left, left, left, left, left
Now it's three in the morning and you're eating alone

Oh the heart beats in its cage

All our friends they're laughing at us
All of those you love you mistrust
Help me I'm just not quite myself
Look around there's no one else left

I went to the concert and I
Fought through the crowd
Guess I got too excited when I
Thought you were around

Oh he gets left, left, left, left, left, left, left
And I'm sorry you were thinking
I would steal your fire

And the heart beats in its cage

Yes the heart beats in its cage, alright

saves the day - nightingale

2008-07-23T05:38:00.000-07:00

And I will flail under these lights that seep down from the bitter sky tonight
and I will kick and beat my wrists together
and feel an ocean breathing waves, feel them licking at my face.
Ceilings don't exist and there are no floors beneath me.
If I were king of this night, would you become my queen?

And I hope, your majesty that you like your position.
I'll do everything I can to keep you by my side
and I'll stare off through the darkness to find us a kingdom.
Just kiss me before I go.

I'll have to walk a thousand miles just to find the ground deserving of your feet.
You could throw me down and walk on me
and I'd just look on through my love and through the haze.

The nightingales are singing now.
They're calling out our marriage to our subjects on their knees.
Their jewelery is thrown into the air.
They sigh at their release as their shackles hit the ground.
The trumpets call out now.
We're home at last.

page 89 on brida

2008-07-12T21:23:00.000-07:00

…She went back to bed and soon fell asleep. Before she did, though, she remembered another story about her father. It was Sunday, and they and all the family were having lunch at her grandmother’s house. She must have been bout fourteen, and sher was complaining about not being able to do a piece of homework, because every time she started, it went wrong.

“Perhaps the times when it goes wrong are teaching you something”, said her father. But Brida was sure that she’d taken the wrong path and that there was no way to put things right.

Her father took her by the hand and led her into the living room, where her grandmother used to watch television. There was a large, antique grandfather clock, which had stopped years before because it could no longer be repaired.

“Nothing in the world is ever completely wrong, my dear”, said her father, looking at the clock. “Even a stopped clock is right twice a day.” - excerpt from Brida (Paulo Coelho)

vietnamese proverb

2008-07-10T05:29:00.000-07:00

"When eating fruit, think of the person who planted the tree."

fable about alchohol

2008-07-04T22:25:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time a Buddhist lama was traveling in the steppe as a "badarch," a holy man that brings blessings to the nomad families in exchange for food and lodging. It was close to sunset, and he came upon a lone ger and some livestock. When he approached the ger a young woman came out to greet him. She was the only person living there.
When he requested hospitality she said he could stay the night only under one condition. He had to choose to do one of three things. He could drink alcohol, sleep with her, or sacrifice a goat. The last was taboo for lamas since only shamans sacrifice goats. Since all three choices were in some degree sinful, he had a difficult decision. He decided that drinking alcohol would be the least harmful.

He drank the alcohol, and while he was drunk he killed the goat. When he woke up the next morning he was in bed with his hostess. He then learned that drinking alcohol is a small sin but it can easily make a man do bad things under its influence.

learning from the enemy

2008-06-28T20:57:00.000-07:00

A samurai warrior slew his master in a fit of rage. He repented immediately but the deed was done and he knew that if he was caught he would be put to death. He fled.
His wanderings took him to a remote village that was separated from the rest of the world by a mountain. The path across the mountain was narrow and treacherous and many villagers had lost their lives while traversing it. The murderer decided to atone for his sin by single-handedly cutting a road through the mountain to end the isolation of the village.
He worked from dawn to dusk and in four years had penetrated halfway into the mountain. One morning when he was hard at work in the tunnel, a young man called out to him to come out. He was the son of the man who had been murdered. He wanted revenge.
“I deserve to die,” said the former samurai. “Slay me by all means but wait until I’ve completed this tunnel.”
The young man agreed to wait. He watched fascinated as day after day the samurai laboured at a seemingly impossible task. The rocks he was digging through were so massive that at the end of a day’s work they seemed not to have been touched at all. The young man began to develop a grudging respect for his enemy’s tenacity and determination. Eventually he found himself helping the man—digging side by side with him and carrying out the rubble.
Years passed and then one day the two men broke through to the other side. The mountain had been conquered at last and the centuries-old isolation of the village had been ended.
“Now I am ready to die,” said the samurai, kneeling before the young man. “Cleave my head in two.”
The youth raised his sword with a cry, the blood rushing to his head. At last his father’s death would be avenged. But he found he could not bring himself to do it. Slowly he lowered his sword.
“You’re a murderer,” he said. “But I’ve learnt much from you in these last few years. How can I harm my teacher?”
And he sheathed his sword and walked away.

in my native tongue

2008-06-24T08:48:00.000-07:00

pota kapuya na oi!

deciding - saves the day

2008-06-19T05:22:00.000-07:00

And it's not fair-why do I have to be so?
Oh I feel everything much more-
much more than you ever will
and it's too hard when I can't even catch your eye
so I can't send you messages
and at night I dream of reasons that I can't let you go
but I don't know if it's time to crack through your walls so thick that I can't see past you
and last summer wasn't enough for me
and now that winter comes the cold beats harder
and no one is left alone and I'm offering you me right now-
take me I'm yours
and I won't have it any other way
so don't let fools be carried by what I say because the night keeps looking our way
and you're not seeing what I'm missing 'cause I am missing you
and I think that we should run as fast as we can into what we don't know-
it's time to let me in because I feel just fine

yet another sunday boredom...and it's not even sunday

2008-06-10T08:09:00.000-07:00

yes, yes... it is a gloomy sunday, weary hearts that's waiting... patiently...perfectly sleeping. dead drop weight in this light gravity i fell... from below? that we'll never know.

spill it!

2008-06-07T00:05:00.000-07:00

morning sun...rainy nights. god what is this world up to?

the spinto band - brown boxes

2008-06-04T10:13:00.000-07:00

I've got this notion,
that moving out is better,
Than this commotion,
if she complains I wont let her,

Tell me what to do
and when she wants to argue
ill remind her that were through

A late reminder,
and post-it notes and markers,
were it not kinder her black eye would be darker,

And all these brown boxes havent helped me move one bit
in half-empty rooms they sit,

Stay thats where they will stay
I could never say,
I would never say,
"This is over"

Ive got this cupid
humble from(?)
Its pretty stupid, but none-the-less ill pack it
and this boxcutters too dull,
other wise id end it all,
theres still boxes in the hall,

And stay, thats where they will stay,
I could never place any other blame,
And how could you even go,
on living if its so, unintentional,
I, Lied, to, you...

lesson to be learned:

2008-06-02T05:22:00.000-07:00

“Speak when you are drunk…and you will make the best speech you’ll ever regret.”

what the...

2008-06-01T11:06:00.001-07:00

for the third time? this must be good.