Inspirational Buckets

I'm back...



It's been a long time away... for a while a long way away as well... but I am back.

Quadsimorphialesqueish.

Victim of a Mastermind

Eating in the circles in the dusted silence of another polished lie. Whatever does become of the beasts of burden that haunt your daylight and your comfort? In this cyclone parade of everyday, the weeks pave into months of forgotten resolve. You write a new song and manage to sing along to the ones you bled bare. And then you cull and evolve and push away and embrace. Terrible; that what the state of mind has become. And the years to become are still a pale shadow of the years gone by. And the longing lingering in the reveries painted on the shut eyelids from the inside out threaten to become the demonic truth. You look at the person you were entwined within a world away the night before and wonder… do they know you’ve been dreaming of them? Do they sense that you look at them differently even if it be so passively? You are the mastermind of this victim. And a victim of this mastermind.

The many days gone by have been my pet hurricanes. The very naked therapeutic song that you churned out has helped you move forward. And you are still addressing yourself, almost prepping your own self. So you talk and whisper and sing and scream to yourself. You must educate yourself to eradicate your self. And then build a new perception of your self. And break that down. And then erect another façade. Build to break more. Bleed to believe, and believe to ridicule. Ignorance remains a bliss less visited. Belief beyond belief is the prozac that will lull you to sleep. Sleep to dream so that you may look again at someone so differently yet act the same. A reverie I say is then the 38293085th of the improbable roads you are less likely to drink in travel. And the journey is endless, yet so fucking short.

So think about the year gone by. Such beautiful mistakes, such ugly success. Such a sight for sore eyes you remain to be, such a sight for sore eyes.

Glory-hole in the soul ....

This is going to be pretty smooth sailing from now on … the blissful retreat of the residual hours can be spent sinking into the often tiring and rarely enterprising scavenger hunts through my echoing mind. The weight of responsibilities to self, circumstance and futures ill-conceived falls on the folds of synaptic pit stops. The heart beats as one… alone in vision and warmth, not fused in unison of feelings. The hands ache in earnest yearning to etch vengeful escapades onto the corridors of celestial residue. And the eyes… few may have seen or have imagined what the lid paints upon the fabric of processing vision as it slithers repeatedly over the white and the lens. The looking glass; the proverbial crystal ball which reveals more as it is peered into rather than what it gazes upon. Such is the state of affairs… this is the new diary of soul. Scribbled and scathed on by many but suffered, felt and enjoyed by only me as it runs through the cavalcade of undoing inside. This is the new diary of my soul.

Brooding: part two

Yielding hurricanes inside your tainted smile
Walking on paper thin bridges raised by the truth

How do you break through?

And the curse of the jealous fly
In the cocoon of a better lie
In the verse of a healing wound
My radiating gloom

It blooms into a pretty white
And soon into a pretty wife
It rooms inside a fluctuating lightthat shines and rhyhmes with the worst of tonight

A window sealed
A perished feel
A moment away to heal
Sniffing glue
Coz missing you

A serenade to break your zeal

Brooding: Part One

Spotting aeroplanes across the summer sky
Breeding pedigrees of a safer, more faithful you

How do i get through?

And the curse of the jealous fly
In the cocoon of a better lie
In the verse of a healing wound
My radiating gloom

It blooms into a pretty white
And soon into a pretty wife
It rooms inside a fluctuating light
That shines and rhyhmes with the worst of tonight...

The worst of tonight...

Orange Amnesia and Car Crashes ...

Last night, when i was driving home... a black mercedes rammed me and i lost all memory...

The bastard cut a signal, slammed and totalled my car and ran...


How was YOUR day?

*flips the universe*

Happy endings ....

I have been dousing in independent or independentisque' films recently. Atleast I would have liked to think so. And then the fact that the last three were either Warner Independent or Showtime Independent et al.

A soundtrack really makes the movie stand out and fall flat and if nothing, Happy Endings with its brilliantly simple yet entwined purple gum stuck to your sandals plot and character sketches COMBINED with the beautiful Maggie Gyllenhaal and Calexico soundtrack make this move one big aphrodisiac for the mind-works. Lisa Kudrow was not at all bad either! and we all know that Maggie is always so intensely great... its uncanny. Grab this film and find me the soundtrack mp3s and I shall die a happy wrestler.



Jesse Bradford was interesting as well, as he was in Eulogy. I loved Eulogy.





Anyhwho, check out Maggie Gyllenhaal's filmography.

Don't change your plans ...

All those readily bleeding moments, shimmering hung on the avenues of days gone by.
I guarantee, I disagree, I confiscate all the reveries. You dominate, you hesitate, you fascinate and you let me be.

All of the time you thought I was sad ... I was trying to remember your name

I have been filling the bath-tub up with hot scalding water... and falling asleep in it. Strange? When theres nothing left to burn; you must set yourself on fire.

God that was strange to see you again... introduced by a friend of a friend... smiled and said yes I think we've met before... in that instant it started to pour...

This scar is a fleck on my porcelain skin... tried to reach deep but you couldn't get in... now you're outside me, see all the beauty... repent all your sins

Its nothing but time and a face that you lose... I chose to feel it but you couldn't choose... I'll write you a postcard I'll send you the news... from the house down the road from real love.

I bought tonnes of dvd's again. On the binge...

The denial twist says:
ill have u x'in so hard ur gonna thnk ur a bee and try to squeeze thru key holes

Peasants of the modern blue...

The Dirty Street Lights revamp is done, I shall be posting the mp3 in the next blog so stay hither and stay click-ful. Let me just take a moment to say how much I adore mp3s blogs, from regnyouth to my-old-kentucky-blog, this girl needs therapy, against the grain, stereogum, aint no picasso, to the millions and millions of others that I hold dear to me and my insatiable downloading needs... Thank ya!

I shadow-box my closest friends; I knock them all out in the end ...

So I'm guessing I go with the Line 6 XT Pod, its USB activated see.. and although it dont have stomps like the ME50, it shall serve well for recording .... I dunno, its a toughie!

So this just one, you MUST have hydrogen peroxide in your ear every month at least, and Q-Tips are a no no... says rebel sweetheart. Hmm... in the words of Stewie Griffin: WHAT THE DUECE! Contrary to the H2O2 phenomenon, I presented the fact that cavemen, you know, those hairy bunnies back in the day; never used either of the two. And they still got laid. Point proven. I rest my case, and my arse for today ... See you again tomorrow, and oh there was nothing dark in this post! I just CANNOT let that be now can I?

DIE !

toodles

The Odds are 42 to 3

The odds are 42 to 3… the blushing brilliance of the bastard moments is such a pristine façade. It’s almost static, almost pleasant and almost always fatal. The concentric pull of circumstance is livid and lusciously overpowering. It renders you a helpless beanie baby, yielding and bending over backwards to avoid confrontation, conscience and correction. The ever impending doom dances shamelessly on your horizon, yet you fold. You chose to ignore. You concur yet not conceive. What a wicked way to be. A step forward and 298 steps back. Sideways falling and gingerly peering. You the rag-doll… you the rag-doll…

Sorry for the absence… but I am back now.

Over the weekend I shall be posting the redone “Dirty Street Lights”, a very rem-ish ditty. Till then…

Aik Dafa Ka Zikr Tha ...

You know what? I'm tired.

It's not even funny ... the sorry state of music right now, cheekyass kids with "underground" bands? Give me a flippin' break! Across to the opposite end of the friggin' spectrum .... the sell-outs. The paint my ass and face to whatever supari-colored whatyoumay and just get me on TV. I'll get the best looking girls in the video, I'll SO cross over to INDIA !!! OH MY GAWWD !!! INDIA !!! I swear, Atif/Jal the whole scene over here was like infested and sickening, and now its even more retarded, its a business! Screw art, screw sensibility. Just fucking sell out all of you. You never had any real talent to begin with.

*unleashes vitriol*

Seriously, its WAY past time to get real.


Ali Azmat is perhaps the only saving grace in a way? *shrugs*

In the meanwhile, download, distribute, redistribute, sell, copy, do whatever with this track. Everything else is going to be free soon, why not music? It's the digital way to go, no pun intended. Make music, total artistic freedom, upload onto the satellite of the world.

Download MP3:

Dye Corduroy - Aik Dafa Ka Zikr Tha ....

This song was more like therapy to me, I HAD to write it. HAD to sing it. It HAD to have the moodswings, the melancholy, the method and the message. An ominous undertone and just the most disillusioned train-wreck-of-thoughts.

Lyrics:

Aik Dafa Ka Zikr Tha ....

Inn kitaabon mein na hum tum rahey

Lafz dhull kay goonj baney

Inn khayalon mein na hum tum rahey

Hum millein gay kaheen

Hum millein gay yaheen

Raastey bhee tum ney chunnay

Faasley bhee tum nay kiyey

Jaanyey kaisey, Khwab daikhay

Aaj tum ney, Saath day kay....

phir say choor diya

behta darya mor loya

hum ney kiya kaha

tum nay kaya kiya

dekho kiya huwa ....

Iss hayaat mein kiya hum tum jaley

Aks bujh kar raakh baney

Inquilaab mein kiya hum tum chaley

hum millein gay kaheen

hum millein gay waheen

Baadbaan jab tum say khullay

Aandhiyon mein kiyon sung na dhullay

Raastay bhee tum nay chunnay

Faaslay bhee tum nay kiyey

Jaaney kaisey, Khwab daikhay

Aaj tum nay, Saath day kay ....

phir say chorh diya

behta darya mor liya

behta darya mor liya ....

Aik aasmaan kay tootay do sirray

Hum tum kehkashaan mein ghirray

Aar paar paaniyon mein beh gayey

Hum kehkashaan ko taktey reh gayey ......