DON'T STOP TILL YOU GET ENOUGH.

an era has truly ended.
but we will dance to your music forever.
love.

FINDING LOVE IN UNEXPECTED PLACES.

SUMMER PLANS.

start knitting again
paint a little
photograph more
gardening
thrift
write
read Pablo Neruda
redecorate boring room =(
frame artwork
trip to nor-cal (?)
learn to play the guitar
sing
learn to cook
make a list of things for India
work

ANDY WARHOL POLAROIDS

WE JUST DON'T CARE.

"lets go to the park

i wanna kiss you underneath the stars"

(photo: unknown source)

SIMPLE RECEIPES.

"Independence is happiness"
Susan B. Anthony

"You will never be happy if you continue to search for what happiness consists of. You will never live if you are looking for the meaning of life"
Albert Camus

"Sanity and happiness are an impossible combination"
Mark Twain

"People spend a lifetime searching for happiness; looking for peace. They chase idle dreams, addictions, religions, even other people, hoping to fill the emptiness that plagues them. The irony is the only place they ever needed to search was within"

Ramona L. Anderson

damn!

(photo: unknown source)

SUNDAY JUNE 14

to do list:
car wash
clean room
put artwork up
frame pictures
laundry

(photo: unknown source)

CONVERGENT EVOLUTION!

(photo: unknown source)

TEACHINGS OF GAUTAM BUDDHA.

(found this online and wanted to share)

On Judgmental People:
People with opinions just go around bothering each other.

On Anger:
Holding on to anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one who gets burned.

On Truth:
Three things cannot be long hidden: the sun, the moon, and the truth.

On Anger:
You will not be punished for your anger; you will be punished by your anger.

On Work:
To be idle is a short road to death and to be diligent is a way of life; foolish people are idle, wise people are diligent.

On Friends:
An insincere and evil friend is more to be feared than a wild beast; a wild beast may wound your body, but an evil friend will wound your mind.

On Love:
You, yourself, as much as anybody in the entire universe, deserve your love and affection.

On Envy:
Do not overrate what you have received, nor envy others. He who envies others does not obtain peace of mind.

On Good Deeds:
Neither fire nor wind, birth nor death can erase our good deeds.

On Thought:
The mind is everything. What you think you become.

On Gratitude:
Let us rise up and be thankful, for if we didn't learn a lot today, at least we learned a little, and if we didn't learn a little, at least we didn't get sick, and if we got sick, at least we didn't die; so, let us all be thankful.

On Hatred:
Hatred does not cease by hatred, but only by love; this is the eternal rule.

(photo: unknown source)

OH, PABLO NERUDA.

Puedo Escribir los Versos mas Tristes Esta Noche

Puedo escribir los versos mas tristes esta noche.
Escribir, por ejemplo: "La noche esta estrellada,
y tiritan, azules, los astros, a lo lejos".

El viento de la noche gira en el cielo y canta.
Puedo escribir los versos mas tristes esta noche.
Yo la quise, y a veces ella tambien me quiso.

En las noches como esta la tuve entre mis brazos.
La bese tantas veces bajo el cielo infinito.

Ella me quiso, a veces yo tambien la queria.
Como no haber amado sus grandes ojos fijos.

Puedo escribir los versos mas tristes esta noche.
Pensar que no la tengo. Sentir que la he perdido.

Oir la noche inmensa, mas inmensa sin ella.
Y el verso cae al alma como al pasto el rocio.

Que importa que mi amor no pudiera guardarla.
La noche esta estrellada y ella no esta conmigo.

Eso es todo. A lo lejos alguien canta. A lo lejos.
Mi alma no se contenta con haberla perdido.

Como para acercarla mi mirada la busca.
Mi corazon la busca, y ella no esta conmigo.

La misma noche que hace blanquear los mismos arboles.
Nosotros, los de entonces, ya no somos los mismos.

Ya no la quiero, es cierto, pero cuanto la quise.
Mi voz buscaba el viento para tocar su oido.

De otro. Sera de otro. Como antes de mis besos.
Su voz, su cuerpo claro. Sus ojos infinitos.

Ya no la quiero, es cierto, pero tal vez la quiero.
Es tan corto el amor, y es tan largo el olvido.

Porque en noches como esta la tuve entre mis brazos,
mi alma no se contenta con haberla perdido.
Aunque este sea el ultimo dolor que ella me causa,
y estos sean los ultimos versos que yo le escribo.
Puedo escribir los versos mas tristes esta noche.

Thank you to Senora Kustin-Mager for the spanish movie Il Postino.

Really, one of the most honest and touching movies of all time and Pablo Neruda writes in green ink because green is the color of hope.

LATE NIGHT PSCYHOBABBLE

sometimes i wish i could just stop writing. writing makes me psychotic. it opens doors to the parts of my mind that are full of nightmares, of neurotic lies, of impossible realities. i am so lost. i don't know where to go, who to talk to. i sometimes feel so lonely. i don't know why--because i don't know who i look for. i would've laughed at myself if i was who i was two years ago. there are too many unanswered questions, too many faces i cannot decipher. too many conversations that are mere small-talks. sometimes i wish i could live a life dictated to me. freedom of my mind is a dangerous thing. time makes me wonder, makes me crazy, makes me think about things too dangerous, too unnecessary. i wander the forbidden forests at night with no torch and nobody else. its a lost battle at times-- i battle my own instincts against my own thoughts, actions. at times, i want to share coffee at a cafe, or run around the lake and sit under the bridge (maybe, tomorrow). i keep typing and typing and my mind is running wild. its nice and quiet. i saw yassi today and had a spontaneous meal with her and another soul-talk. thank god, for friends like her. i was going to paint tonight but i am scared. i like late-night mind-wanderings and the noise my fingers makes against the keyboard. tomorrow is a new day. new smiles. new faces. new hellos.

WE NEED A WORLD ..

WHERE ARTISTS ARE NURTURED--NOT TORTURED
WHERE MUSICIANS ARE LOVED AND CARESSED
WHERE YOU AND I CAN SIT AT PEACE AT THAT CAFE
WHERE THINGS ARE SIMPLER, MORE BEAUTIFUL
WHERE WE RUN AFTER LOVE AND FLOWERS
WHERE YOUR LAUGHTER RINGS THROUGH THE CRACKS OF WINDOWS
WHERE LOVE ENVELOPS MY HEART SO CLOSE
WHERE I AM WHO I AM AND YOU ARE JUST THE WAY YOU ARE

NANCY WILSON.

'I know the language of your laugh
Tripping over circumstance

I know the story of your walk
I taste the sugar and the salt

I taste and savor your little ways
The colors that you choose
To paint your day'

LAUGHTER IN HER EYES

walking and talking
laughing and smiling

soul talks and love affairs
lonely bird in the cage
a solitary reaper for
truth, peace, justification
trapped in minds of distress
of commotion, of mazes

deciphering romance begins
my mind is tripping in circles
intoxicated thoughts
mindless talks with you
La,La,La

maybe, ill let you
walk me out
talk me out
if only you
could hear me out

SEXY.

sandhurst, marry me. =)

THE GOOD, THE BAD AND THE UGLY.

I am sick of people saying someone has a bad attitude or that someone is a pessimist. Optimism is a beautiful thing. Something that is maybe innate. Maybe learnt. I don't know about that.

This is to people who talk about attitudes. You don't have a right to comment on someone's attitude until you know what the person feels deep inside. Your past defines your actions which define your attitude.

So next time, you think someone is a pessimist, take a second to ask: Why? Because most often than not, that person has gone through something that has changed his perception of life. He has gone through something that has made him realize some haunting truth. Or he is tired of searching. No one has a right to comment on anyone's attitude before looking into their past. If you do, grow up.

IF ONLY I COULD NOT FEEL

Hey, you! Listen! The thing is things don't work out for us because we are neurotics. We think, we feel, we understand. We are artists waiting to be freed. Those offering to help, cannot decipher our convoluted, impulsive and distorted minds.


Our core problem is that we are in love with LOVE.

We believe in a different kind of love. Real Love. Blood-gushing-to-your-brain-Butterflies-in-your-stomach-Take-a-bullet-for-you-sort-of-Love.

Maybe its the world that is running in circles. Maybe you and I are the only ones heading towards nirvana. Or maybe I am writing rubbish because I am tired of thinking.




[esp written for you (z) ]

TITANIC AND HOPELESS ROMANTICS.

MAKE IT COUNT
MEET ME AT THE CLOCK

CARRIE BRADSHAW!

"Some people are settling down.

Some people are settling.

And some people don't settle for

anything less than butterflies"

I DIDN'T KNOW.

I didn't know these emotions
folded deep inside
entangled in my veins
blood gushing around
Some tick tocks back,
bursting out like
lions ready to indulge
neurotic behaviour
now turns to norm.

Not the highest high
maybe not the lowest low
so relieved for I feel today
I pray you can feel
for its the
highest high and
the lowest low.
best that life provides

AH FUCK.

AUTOBIOGRAPHIES AND LOVE LETTERS.

neurotic messes
overanalytical failures
dumbstruck influences
overzealous emotions
overheard masochism

neurotic psychomaniac
waiting to run
love letters lost
pens and inks

scrolls empty
waiting to be written
the ink went splat!
and the time did too.

souls filled with love
waiting to be freed

--

"girl your heart is so big
I can feel the attack"

"ART IS A LIE THAT MAKES US REALIZE THE TRUTH"--PABLO PICASSO.

PULP FICTION WISDOM.

"That's when you found someone special when you can just shut the fuck up for a minute and comfortably enjoy the silence"

I AM.

“I am my own experiment. I am my own work of art.”

--Madonna

BLAH

sometimesiwishicouldsayfuckyouandhailacab.

WHAT HAS HAPPENED!

What has happened around me? Our society is running on materialism, on survival, on boredom. What happened to love, to romance, to art, to sculpture, to jazz, and to appreciation? We need everyday injection of this artistic aura just to breathe and enjoy the life around. The old-time cafes are now gone. The long lunches are reduced to drive-thrus. The letters are now emails. The calls are now texts. I get scared that we are turning into robots forgetting to breathe. Am I who I am writing about?

"I FEEL YOUR LOVE LIKE A MONKEY ON MY BACK"

MIRROR IMAGES.

I can understand and sympathize with those crazed and neurotic beings--the artists, the Van Goghs and the Woody Allens of today and tomorrow. I do not know why but I understand their fluttering minds and restless souls. Always considered different in today's materialistic and delusional world with no light at the end of the tunnel. They are the true artists because they have had the courage to submit to their emotions. Now, I know, emotions are a dangerous and terrifying thing. You can turn from a sane person to a delusional and psychomaniacal freak in the circus. Rationality and irrationality become close neighbours. The line between sanity and insanity is brushed so close that your mind goes on trips of hell (and back). I pity and admire those who can submit to their emotions. They are not confused--but just lost in a temporary mix of understanding, emotions, reality and dreams. It is an admirable and at once a frightening and honest trip to the deepest secrets of one's soul.

RANDOM THOUGHTS AND TIDBITS OF EVERYTHINGS.

you are
not your body
but
your aura.

you are
not your beauty
but
your soul.

smiles and tears
part of life
remember both
you are nothing but a marble
waiting to be sculpted


today, i see clearly with eyes.
today, i see through the layers
today, i understand me as if
not god--but I was brought up
from earth itself


i am a child of nature.
i know this truth.
today, i am one with nature.
today, i am at peace.
an exhilarating adventure
roller coaster ending
at the doorstep
of sanity and peace
thank you Love!
thank you Life!

NEW DAYS AND SECOND CHANCES.

"I told the bartender
to pour me a double fast
and light me a smoke so
I can sing some jazz"