"true song as real as my tears"(c)Cake [entries|archive|friends|userinfo] efa [ userinfo | sc userinfo ] [ archive | journal archive ]

MĪLU KARĀTAVU HUMORU [Dec. 13th, 2006|12:04 pm] [Tags | txt ] "you used to have fiends, you used to be so smart. it's like you just gave up." " I excel at not giving a shit. Experience has taught me that interest begets expectation and that expectation begets disappointment. So the key to avoiding disappointment is to avoid interest. " "Bad people are punished by society's law and good people... are punished by Murphy's law." "I'd say I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not. I excel at not giving a shit. Experience has taught me that interest begets expectation, and expectation beget disappointment, so the key to avoiding disappointment is to avoid interest. A equals B equals C Equals A, or whatever. I also don't have a lot of interest in being a good person or a bad person. From what I can tell, either way, you're screwed. Bad people are punished by society's laws, and good people are punished by Murphy's Law. So you see my dilemma. " "they kept toasing around words like 'destiny' and 'fate'. word 'choise' was never mentioned, it's because i'didnt have one" "George: So what's next? Onward and upward? Rube: Onward not upward. No pearly gates for you, no choirs of angels neither. George: You dick! You're sending me to hell?! Rube: Don't flatter yourself. You're not that interesting." " When I was little my mom told me Santa Claus didn't exist, neither did the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy or the Great Pumpkin. Even though she didn't say so specifically, I just sort of assumed that God didn't either." "We lead our lives, and when they end, sometimes we leave a little of ourselves behind. Sometimes we leave money, a painting, sometimes we leave a kind word. And sometimes, we leave an empty space. " "I don't want to fit in, I just don't want to stand out." "All these f*ing asumptions that society makes, man. It's like, you know; "get a job," "eat food," "live in a house." It's fascism, that is. Absolute f*ing fascism... " dead like me Link 3 comments|Leave a comment

weeeds [Dec. 12th, 2006|03:23 pm] [Tags | txt ] "Kat: I'm a part of this family ! Nancy: Just because you are crazy, and we are crazy doesn't mean we're related" "Graduation speech: Greetings Agrestic Elementary School, class of 2006. Hello teachers, parents, step-parents, siblings, boyfriends and girlfriends of parents, assorted relatives, friends of your mom or dad who you call aunt and uncle who really aren't, and Principal Dutch. As I stand before you today, on the brink of junior high, here is what I have to say: YOU HAVE FAILED US ALL. Everything is not okay. We have become alienated, desensitized, angry, and frightened. If we picture Agrestic as an airplane, a grand, soaring jet, carrying us through the sky, I think you all need to understand there are motherf[expletive] snakes on this motherf[expletive] plane. ... We are not safe, you move here so that you can feel safe, but your children are not safe." (c) weeds Link 12 comments|Leave a comment

Z [Dec. 3rd, 2006|11:40 am] [Tags | txt ] download - http://yy.lv/download.php?f=13423 Не стреляйте! Я всего лишь робкий шаг, Всего лишь тихий вздох Перед остановкой. Не смотрите! Эти шрамы не про Вас, Не для Ваших грустных глаз. Мне неловко. Не молчите! В этой рыхлой тишине Я погибну. Не молчите! Copyright © 2005, Zемфира, www.Zemfira.ru http://www.last.fm/group/Zemfira/journal?action=display&entryid=47729#comments un links http://archive.salon.com/ent/music/feature/2000/02/29/zemfira/ Link 11 comments|Leave a comment

/ [Dec. 1st, 2006|05:03 pm] [Tags | txt ] «Sam: I am different. Harrison: You want to be unique, sure. Just like everyone else.» Link Leave a comment

SinFest [Dec. 1st, 2006|10:45 am] http://www.sinfest.net/archive_page.php?comicID=272 http://community.livejournal.com/ru_sinfest/ Link Leave a comment

tā esot "tikai" dziesma [Nov. 30th, 2006|01:25 pm] [Tags | txt ] AFI =Untitled= We held hands on the last night on Earth Our mouths filled with dust We kissed in the fields and under trees Screaming like dogs and bleeding dark into the leaves It was empty on the edge of town but We knew everyone floated along the bottom of the river So we walked through the waste where the road curved into sea And the shattered seasons lay And the bitter smell of burning was on you like a disease In our cancer of passion you said "Death is a midnight runner" The sky had come crashing down like the news of an intimate suicide We picked up the shards and formed them into shapes of stars That wore like an antique wedding dress The echoes of the past broke the hearts of the unborn As the ferris wheel silently slowed to a stop The few insects skittered away in hopes of a better pastime I kissed you at the apex of the maelstrom and asked If you would accompany me in a quick fall But you made me realize my ticket wasn't good for two I rode alone You said "The cinders are falling like snow" There is poetry in despair and we sang with unrivaled beauty Bitter elegies of savagery and eloquence Of blue and grey Strange, we ran down desperate streets and carved our names In the flesh of the city The sun has stagnated somewhere beyond the rim of the hirizon And the darkness is a mystery of curves and lines Still, we lay under the emptiness and drifted slowly outward And somewhere in the wilderness we found salvation Scratched into the Earth like a message Link 6 comments|Leave a comment

[Nov. 30th, 2006|12:09 pm] [Tags | txt ] "Don't compromise yourself. You are all you've got." - Janis Joplin Link Leave a comment

es nekad nebiju/nebūšu panks. [Nov. 30th, 2006|11:37 am] [Tags | txt ] «punk rock love is fucking behind the dumpster down the street from the show. fucking in the shower at the hotel carlton. making out in the recycle bin. looking at her tattoos while she's asleep. taking showers together. playing checkers with cigarette butts. watching her band play. dumpstering veggies together and then going back to her place and cooking up a feast. knowing the same parts of the same songs. both of you having the same ex-girlfriend. punk rock love is having to tie her shoes for her because she's too drunk. kissing under the overpass. her sending you her whole diary to read. her giving you ten rolls of duct tape for your birthday. her beating up skinheads. going to the prom on her motorcylce and checking in the helmets at the coatcheck. getting astonished stares from all the jocks who thought you were gay; now they feel dumb because you're with an older punk rock bombshell, and they're with their friend's little sister. punk rock love is meeting her outside the club, and her saying, "come home with me or i'm gonna kick your fucking ass." going home with her, and she almost kicks your ass anyway. sharing hairdye. riding double on a bike. being loud and not caring. sneaky eyes and sleeveless t-shirts. the sun coming up, and you realizing that there's other people on the beach. a good sleazy one- week-stand. still being friends afterwards. most of the time. punk rock love is her sneaking out in the middle of the night to meet you in the park. running your fingers over her spikey hair. her chewing on a flower, and you having to call poison control when her tongue swells up. bringing her to the laundromat for a date. sharing a sleeping bag and waking up freezing in the middle of the night and her, blurry eyed, trying to heat it up with a blowdrier. social unrest playing "ever fallen in love?" at the gig you're both at the night after she dumps you hard. starting smoking again after that night. punk rock love is her drawing on you. her sleeping on your back. her being mad at you for being such a jerk. her thinking it's cool that you stink and your hair stands up by itself. her having weird roommates who worship eggs. you waiting in the doorway for hours hoping she might pass by, even in the snow. her singing along with descendents records over the air on her late night radio show. her picture on the front page of the morning paper getting arrested. her borrowing your favorite black hat and never giving it back. punk rock love is finding a girl who drinks as much coffee as you do. going into the cafe where she works, and she looks up and smiles and doesn't notice as she tips over a pile of fifty dishes. they hit the floor one by one, and when it's all done, everyone in the cafe applauds. you both turn beet red. punk rock love is both of you doing fanzines. years later, she is teaching english to college freshmen, and you're still doing fanzines. her wearing glasses even though her eyes are fine, using crutches even though her legs are fine, and talking with a fake speech impediment. you're just thinking it's rad girl style, until later, when someone brings up the concept of self-imposed handicaps. punk rock love is getting your first kiss and almost losing your virginity at the same time. meanwhile you're trying not to wake up the other person sleeping in the same bed. groping in the bushes by the freeway, and later you realize that all the passing cars could see you. exploring the wasteland together. holding hands out on the fire escape. lying in the grass in her backyard. lying on the astroturf in her bedroom. drinking tequila on her porch on your birthday. riding on her motorcycle early in the cold morning, and you're holding on tight and steam is rising off of the river. you're thinking how she is maybe even better than the ramones. punk rock love is both being broke. love letters. finding out she sang "stay free" at her high school talent show. finding out she's a little crazier than you thought when you finally get her in bed. her boyfriend getting mad. walking around with her and her nephew, and everyone is giving you dirty looks because they think he's your kid. walking around with her and being happy and proud. being sad together. being sad by yourself. missing her.» © aaron wohl, from May 1992 Cometbus Link 6 comments|Leave a comment

es arī mīlu fotografēt.. [Nov. 17th, 2006|07:20 pm] [Tags | txt ] "...I became yearbook photographer because I liked the idea that I could sort of watch life without having to be part of it. But when you're yearbook photographer, you're, like, never in the picture. " Link 2 comments|Leave a comment

nu kad beigsies tukšums manā galvā? [Nov. 16th, 2006|12:48 pm] [Tags | txt ] The direct use of force is such a poor solution to any problem, it is generally employed only by small children and large nations. Link Leave a comment

Ani Difranco quotes [Nov. 15th, 2006|10:15 am] [Tags | txt ] "I don't always feel lucky, but I'm smart enough to try." "They say that the truth will set you free but then again, so will a lie... It depends if you're trying to get to the promised land or if you're just trying to get by." "Maybe you don't like your job, maybe you didn't get enough sleep - but nobody likes their job, nobody got enough sleep. Maybe you just had the worst day of your life; well, you know, there's no escape. That's no excuse. Just suck up and be nice." © Ani DiFranco Link Leave a comment

Sugar [Nov. 9th, 2006|07:03 pm] [Tags | txt ] "We walk around pretending we're in a Disney movie when really it's a gangster porn flick" Examples of the lies your parents tell you- "These are the best years of your life" and "Of course we love you". "I swear on my mother's death bed!" "You hate your mum!" "Alright, my cat's then!" Link Leave a comment

otro dienu dziedu [Nov. 8th, 2006|03:55 pm] [Tags | txt ] pj harvey =who will love me now= ( Who will forgive and make me live again? Who will bring me back to the world again? ) Link Leave a comment

instrumentāls gabals [Oct. 20th, 2006|03:50 pm] don caballero - "let's face it pal, you didn't need that eye surgery" http://www.southern.com/southern/band/DONCA/sounds/letsfaceitpal.mp3 Link Leave a comment

[Oct. 19th, 2006|06:13 pm] [Tags | txt ] "Jesus died for somebody's sins, but not mine” (c)Patti Smith Link Leave a comment

"Monday or Tuesday." by Virginia Woolf [Oct. 18th, 2006|07:22 pm] [Tags | txt ] "LAZY AND INDIFFERENT, shaking space easily from his wings, knowing his way, the heron passes over the church beneath the sky. White and distant, absorbed in itself, endlessly the sky covers and uncovers, moves and remains. A lake? Blot the shores of it out! A mountain? Oh, perfect–the sun gold on its slopes. Down that falls. Ferns then, or white feathers, for ever and ever– Desiring truth, awaiting it, laboriously distilling a few words, for ever desiring–(a cry starts to the left, another to the right. Wheels strike divergently. Omnibuses conglomerate in conflict)–for ever desiring–(the clock asseverates with twelve distinct strokes that it is mid-day; light sheds gold scales; children swarm)–for ever desiring truth. Red is the dome; coins hang on the trees; smoke trails from the chimneys; bark, shout, cry "Iron for sale"–and truth? Radiating to a point men's feet and women's feet, black or gold-encrusted–(This foggy weather–Sugar? No, thank you–The commonwealth of the future)–the firelight darting and making the room red, save for the black figures and their bright eyes, while outside a van discharges, Miss Thingummy drinks tea at her desk, and plate-glass preserves fur coats– Flaunted, leaf-light, drifting at corners, blown across the wheels, silver-splashed, home or not home, gathered, scattered, squandered in separate scales, swept up, down, torn, sunk, assembled–and truth? Now to recollect by the fireside on the white square of marble. From ivory depths words rising shed their blackness, blossom and penetrate. Fallen the book; in the flame, in the smoke, in the momentary sparks–or now voyaging, the marble square pendant, minarets beneath and the Indian seas, while space rushes blue and stars glint–truth? or now, content with closeness? Lazy and indifferent the heron returns; the sky veils her stars; then bares them." From: Monday or Tuesday. by Virginia Woolf. New York: Harcourt, Brace and Company, Inc., 1921. http://digital.library.upenn.edu/women/woolf/monday/monday-03.html Link Leave a comment

manis nav. ir tikai citāti [Oct. 13th, 2006|10:44 pm] [Tags | txt ] "People are afraid of themselves, of their own reality; their feelings most of all. People talk about how great love is, but that's bullshit. Love hurts. Feelings are disturbing. People are taught that pain is evil and dangerous. How can they deal with love if they're afraid to feel? Pain is meant to wake us up. People try to hide their pain. But they're wrong. Pain is something to carry, like a radio. You feel your strength in the experience of pain. It's all in how you carry it. That's what matters. Pain is a feeling. Your feelings are a part of you. Your own reality. If you feel ashamed of them, and hide them, you're letting society destroy your reality. You should stand up for your right to feel your pain.” “How can I set free anyone who doesn't have the guts to stand up alone and declare his own freedom? I think it's a lie – people claim they want to be free – everybody insists that freedom is what they want the most, the most sacred and precious thing a man can possess. But that's bullshit! People are terrified to be set free – they hold on to their chains. They fight anyone who tries to break those chains. It's their security…How can they expect me or anyone else to set them free if they don't really want to be free?” Jim Morrison Link 16 comments|Leave a comment

es mīlu Wainonu [Sep. 30th, 2006|12:00 am] [Tags | txt ] "From a deep, immaculate kiss she spread her two ripe, dripping limbs and then I happened. And the moon throbbed and fought with an angry sun all that day and all that night. Until it forced me out. Now I scald here... alone. Touch me. With your white words and your dead hands. Now, before I freeze. And become one of you." Dinky's poem from «Welcome Home, Roxy Carmichael» Link Leave a comment

no «Girl, Interrupted» [Sep. 25th, 2006|12:31 pm] Susanna: [reading from a book] "Borderline Personality Disorder. An instability of self-image, relationships and mood... uncertain about goals, impulsive in activities that are self-damaging, such as casual sex." Lisa: I like that. Susanna: "Social contrariness and a generally pessimistic attitude are often observed." [pauses] Susanna: Well that's me. Lisa: That's everybody. Susanna: You don't want me, Tony. Tony: Yes I do, baby. Susanna: No, you don't. I'm... a crazy girl. Tony: You're crazy so we can't have one night of bliss? Susanna: I am a crazy girl. Seriously. Tony: You've been in a hospital? Susanna: Yes. Tony: Do you see purple people? My friend, he saw purple people. And so the state came and took him away. He didn't like that. Some time went by and, and he told 'em he didn't see purple people no more. Susanna: He got better. Tony: Nah, he still sees 'em. Georgina: Lisa? Is Daisy really getting out? Lisa: Yeah, she coughed up a big one. Susanna: But how could - I mean she's... *insane*. Lisa: Yeah, well that's what ther-rape-me's all about. That's why fuckin' Freud's picture's on every shrink's wall. He created a fuckin' industry. You lie down, you confess your secrets and you're saved. Ca-ching! The more you confess, the more they think about settin' you free. Susanna: But what if you don't have a secret? Lisa: Then you're a lifer, like me. Link Leave a comment

just [Sep. 22nd, 2006|06:14 pm] Your web personality doesn't hold back. When you're online, you feel inspired to reveal your deepest dreams and scariest fears. Maybe you find it therapeutic to describe your emotions online, or maybe you're trying to keep the world updated on what's happening in your head. Whatever the reason, your habit of sharing juicy details about your life means you'd make a great anonymous blogger. Just be sure you never mention your real name online – you probably don't want future employers Googling you and reading about that wild party you went to back in 2006... Link 2 comments|Leave a comment

navigation [ viewing | 40 entries back ] [ go | earlier/later ]