Potency

sweet nothings permeate some immediate fancy. such cruelty found in the cycle of men. hard held inadequacies sublime in all but thought and intent, how could we do this to ourselves. yet again, unlearned in experience- this self replicating cataclysmic convention. grievous undertakings solidified in naught and disdain, frozen aptitude- the resolute never final. tendencies absolved through any means of incapacitation within moments reach- fleeting fancy brought on by languid sound. what optimism at its best can never compare.

Relief

Today came something as a surprise, my week long artist block have finally subsided. Surprisingly, I came on time for my 8am Figure Drawing class- this became the fruit of my labor, a 20 minute gesture rendering. Not only did I finally rid my block, but I've actually improved on my draftsmanship. Such a pleasant surprise for a such a harrowing week.

Rewind

I will be updating my site by posting old works as well as new notes. Don't be surprised. Today will be a busy day.

I guess I'll also start by posting few original art pieces. Who knows, maybe people might even like them.

A Moment Not Too Soon.

I've decided to create a blog spot. I gathered that using my Facebook "notes" can no longer hold the thoughts that I intend to convey for those who will listen. It's a healthy thing I suppose, creating this outlet. I've come to join the ranks of the (not so anonymous) interweb voices blog-blogging my way one computer at a time.

Stumble. (a moments glance in the stream of consciousness)

why can we never be content? and if we are right now, why is it that it never last? I feel like no matter what I do, I'll never stop thinking that i can do better- that there's always something more. I look at the notes that i've written and think about the note that im about to write, and i find the disparity between moods were just too disconcerting. two profoundly different moods, caused by the same root, all within the week. This cant be good.

Classical music always keep me calm.

Antonin Dvorák
Kreisler: Russian And Slavonic Miniatures
Symphony No. 9 In E Minor ("From The New World"), B. 178 (Op. 95)
(First Published As No. 5): II. Largo
performed by: Nicolas Koeckert


I wish I could just see a situation and instantaneously learn the outcome. I'd gladly trade the "joy" surprises with the ability to know if situations will point to my favor or whether im wasting my time or not. ...hearing that just says a lot about me doesn't it?

you wouldn't know me enough to be sure.
and if you do, im thoroughly impressed. cause even i cant say.

I dont like being thrown out of balance. but thats how i feel right now.
I want to be in control of the situations that im in- thats understandable isnt it?
not in the maniacal-controlling way -of any minute and of any time, but in a- I put myself in this situation, and god damn it if i dont know what the hell im doing. -kind of control. I think this might be deeply rooted in my fear of regret. its the "theres not anything that i regret as of this moment, but i hope to god that i never do." -kind of fear. I think thats also why im super indecisive... which then leds itself to why i procrastinate. So- tell me if im wrong, but i think where im getting at here is that all the stress /personality defects come from the one and only "keep all your options open" rule. all because i refuse to have regrets... and why do i fear regret? - because its a step backwards, not forwards, because i dont like losing out on something, on lost opportunity,-- of staying where i am. because of the fear of being stuck in one place of my life. of being left behind by everybody else. of those i love.
I look at this, and i see that..maybe- my life is propelled by fear. and it makes me wonder if its the same for other people too.

Are we all driven by fear of some sort of the other?

look at it in the perspective for animals: the fear to being eaten, or of starvation= of death: leads to their survival, just as the fear of extinction of one species leads procreation. leading a life stumbling after mere existance. even that is purposeful. but somehow living just to live, just doesnt cut it.

There's a very distinct line between living and existing. and i want to be in the greener side of the fence. -what ever that means.

So human life being driven by fear. applied to society? tangent: isnt that what first created societies anyway? people were so afraid of being alone in and of the untamed facets nature that they gathered together in fear in their little tribes as a type of protection- a move towards survival. wouldnt that mean that we would have to start viewing society as a survival mechanism rather than some great evil/ purveyor of conformism?

but by rejecting society, could in turn be interpreted as relinquishing your fear that would require being a part of society in the first place. then could be looked at as a type of freedom from your primal fear and the constraints of society that would other wise suppress your true, raw, primal heacceity.

would we still have personalities if there was no society to influence the outcome?

Simplify. The Moon Had Never Been So Beautiful.

Don’t you ever get the feeling when everything seems so clear? When at one given moment, it seems like everything finally makes sense- you don’t know why, but it feels everything... will turn out alright.

I don't think people really know how the moon makes me happy. 1-2 am is always the best, when time just slows down and it’s easier to pretend you live in a city of ghosts. I always find it so calming, so serene on abandoned streets and it’s just you the moon. I love dancing on empty streets and laying down on the middle of main roads. It’s that adrenaline rush of the uncertain- laying there you give everything up, you let everything go- leaving everything to chance and trust in the inner workings of the collective universe. gaining that perspective where very few rarely see in a lifetime, laying down on the road looking nowhere but up above, to the stars, to the moon, not knowing if or when a car comes racing by- humbled by everything. humbled by the immensity of everything- that sudden rush of emotional clarity and knowing- that you want to live. it’s that dormant instinct of self preservation that blares through every thought, misgivings, doubts, hurt... simplifying life down to the basics.

Live. so you can dream, love, and maybe find happiness- and in such unexpected places,
like in a middle of a deserted street.

Tore

connectivity. divulge all your hidden secrets and show me through the hightened catastrophe. wake. the absolute soon meet the intention. running on butterfly wings. heartbreak atrophy. solidify the unpresidented moment into crystaline fevor. i can hear the strings in my mind. and of talk easy flashing in garish neon lights.

Cotton Candy, Pops, and Caramel Popcorn

Holiday pastures and moonlit brilliance. it seems that nothing ever stays the same. we all want to think that we've made a difference in life, in the world, in people. we all want to be remembered one way or the other. people who became infamous are just runner ups, never really, officially, making it to the big leagues. known but not loved. or is it more loved by few, hated by all? Im not leaving until rain stops knocking on my windows. cant let it in. cant let it take me. there's something too personal, being in the rain. i cant stand it when it touches my face, taking liberties with its cold caress. it feels like death. stealing all my warmth one centimeter at a time. I used to love rain. i remember i would run out in my shorts and overgrown shirt just to bathe in its warm waters. but that was another life, another continent. I remember trying that here, the first time i saw rain. i froze my ass off. nothing is ever quite the same as we remember it. I never understood why rain was cold here, until i was eight years old I never even thought of another alternative anywhere else in the world other than warm, no biting wind, rain. snow was a foreign word to me. I thought of it as clouds drifting down like softly padded shooting stars. snow was for the children in Disney movies making snow angels and morbidly obese snowmen and women with snow children, sticks, buttons, scarves, hats and carrots and bits of clouds- seemed easy enough for me.

Strawberry Avalance.

holes in the wall
lets all peel back that white-
plastic paint
feeling whole and sweet like suede .
bite into that pretty pink, pale peach
and tell me its secrets.

ive gone insane.
picking at little-little things
lets all sit and look up in the sky
and watch as clocks
fall to a stop.
lend me some time-
just a little bit more
and i'll prove lions do exist.

in this concrete jungle
where we swim through air,
avoiding collisions as we go
puffing bubbles as we go
jet on by.

lets swim in the ocean in the sky
watching pretty pink balloons
smoking pretty pink cigars
puff puff puffing as we fly

puff puffing, reaching high

Coy.

promissory notes
how early did we have to be
feel that hunger, thirst, that pain
That there's nothing at all to gain

Fluttering eyes and swaying hips
feel my warmth, watch move my lips

Barely Alive.

The sky is falling and i could care less
i found something good
and vaguely familiar
in such an unexpected place

cling to the floors to stop from falling
im falling up
upwards in the sky
while everything falls around me

he found something good
and hauntingly similar
so much for class
brought together by the thread
we chose to cling to

waste time, nothing like the end
to start some beginning
unknown from the start
we cling like parachutes
while we fall
up
up
up in the sky
while everything falls around us.

-ist.

ambiguous in everything but want. we deserve whats comming to us. transparency in every level, clicking glass feeling grass, sand, sticks, bushes and stones. unwarranted, unknown coheasion.

Oh the things we've become...

shining glorious nothingness
is this what we've always wanted?
I dont remember the time
when i thought it would
one day, come to this

Harlequin

Draw the awe and swivel from the undertones. ardour is the device to ascertain the unreliable, dread the undeserved. come to the parallax scheme and smile at your dissidence. love that gourd, that challis, that cup. and feel the sand coming away. Does it always feel like this? true to word, dye that sheath and see whats that to come. fangs and claws we come out crying. flying lying. dying. deriving the rocks from the jewels while we confuse our mouths for our feet. we lie on our backs and watch the stream dry. living in existence- where we grab and grasp that supposed inheritance. where does it all end. in prose, where we see those pro's and con's and con's becomes what we all uphold. deduce the truth and open your mind's eye.

preach that sermon and cast out those lines
and see whats the day's catch.

Didn't you know that the world dances on harlequin floors.
Indulgent in that paradigm shift

Starstruck.

Apparently the stars we look to are the physical manifestation of the past. So that when ever we look up into the stars -- it is as if the immediate future (us) is directly interacting with the past. hence the past and the future existing in one moment. with that, i wonder-- how can it not but render our meanings of what is the past, and what is the future-- rendering words and its meanings- ultimately useless. if that were true, then the past is not really the past, and the present not the present-- then is the only thing definite, the future? But even then, the future is not given...

The Number Juice.

A garrish display, finite till the end. Still left in the stillness of things undone-what then will become of us all. filters and delinquent cove, what right do we have? Estranged in unraveling demeanor, how can we not but blame ourselves? Do that dance, and lift that drink. preening feathers as we go. tight lipped till the end, who could but guess our names. Start your engines and race to the abyss where excess take new meaning.

Grandeur in Cages.

Harrowing stability, the feel of languid innocence. support the burning beams and hope for the sirens to sing. hold up those hands-- wishing for something more. learn the unbelievable. surrogate from the start, we all become proxies mind and body till the end. a moment too soon, we realize it all but too late. the microcosms of cavernous conclaves of delinquency and folly. soon to be nothing- we praise what light cannot give us. the need and desperation caused by gaping aristocracy-- we laugh in the midst of it all. hoping our next steps aren't our lasts. abstraction and the theory of its religion. short circuit the unbelievable. this habitual facade. save us nothing. harrowing truth. out of sight, out of mind' best describes negligence. how then would you wish such a fate on anyone. fate cannot be so cruel as to create for you something and have chance take it away. subdued we receive what is finally given. spit back the lie, and tell her you love her. sordid in deed, still we dance the good dance. escape to your prison and hope you've hid your heart. stagnant in your prayers you shiver from your words. let it roll from your tongue that fevored testament of love, lust, lost and detatch. in the midst of grandeur we become. hard shells and sheered sheep we continue our arduous condemnation. harking the great divine in worthy soliloquy, you kneel. and face your hunter.

Interlude.

I dont know

if I'm being strong

or weak....

but I tear up

in the thought of death.

Though not out of fear,

but of understanding.

See You At The End of The Tunnel.

Living from moment to moment

will leave you starving in between

becomming like a living husk of a thing.

I don't know how anyone can do it,

this partial existence

watching everyone else live

their mediocre lives.

While you, you live more than
any will in their entire lives.

only living in intervals.

Not knowing to envy or pity them.

them and their mediocre lives.

Never knowing neither extremes.

I think I finally know what your talking about...

And I don’t know whether I should be happy or sad that I do,

but one thing for sure, I've never lived more in my life.

Sanguin Aberration.

The decision of Languid fervor has long past, as sentiments soon dissipate in wintry mists. A colloquial affair with much ostentation and pedantry. I no longer hold that veil of splendor, of that a tortuous panorama. Of such a beloved spectacle I would care not soon forget.But all together cannot resist the inevitable.

I'll See You Soon.

Coming fresh from the sun,

but all I can think of are those city lights

and that early morning cruise.

I'm back where we started

and it feels the same as we left it.

Riding along racing that morning sun,

not looking back hoping these feelings will stay intact.

We'll ride never to regret what we've begun.

We'll ride this wave baby, and we'll ride it well,

just don't look back just dont dwell.

We'll put up a fight

and everything will turn right.

Just you see, just wait and it will be.

Just look at my eyes and they'll tell you good,

we'll go at it nice and smooth,

feeling that right mood.

Riding along racing that morning sun,

not looking back, hoping these feelings will remain intact.

We'll ride baby, we'll ride.

We'll ride this wave good,

going at it nice and smooth.

You'll see we'll do it good.

Let's break that cycle

we'll start over all brand new.

We'll shed that skin in that midnight view.

Just don't look back I'm right here,

we'll push things to gear

racing that morning sun.

Camouflage.

When is it acceptable and when is it not?
we drive ourselves crazy with thoughts of the future

and miserable thinking of the past.

-- But why does it seem that letting everything go

wont solve anything?

I blame the nail polish.

so shiny and colorful --and misleading

as like everything else.

To think of it, everyone are like cuttlefishes

you see what they want you to see

In the midst of near darkness

that luminescent skin

and exploding fireworks

a beacon emerges

scrambling to grab and grasp

we fight among ourselves
thinking we know better.

until it disappears

into nothingness.

leaving us wondering

if it were real or a dream.

Quiver.

Then I,
like that of mist receding,
withdraws to the forest leaving
nothing but drops of dew and silence,
awaiting sunrise.

8 is just an open 3.

Its five in the morning and im awake.
this should be a crime.

taking naps too late into the day should be a crime.

color pencils are okay as long as you want to be boring.

I have more patience with other people more than i do for myself.

AND i really dont like people.

I think if i could just

shut people out and their bullshit for good

I would.

I'd just keep three people around me all the time.maybe four.

That's my goal.

to find 2 people as worthy to be a friend.

2 siblings i could trust the most.

And 2 loves.

one Lover

one Soul

All in all I would make up the third.

I would be the 3rd one.

The number three is solid.

the scales. judgment.

The Resolution to the

eternal struggle of duality in our universe.

A triangle.

the most solid shapemost efficient

bridges are made in threes.

Too bad it never works.

People just dont know loyalty these days.

Insure.

I'm happy that you didn't stay long enough for goodbyes to hurt.

Waiting.

.... Thinks that the rain does the strangest things to people.