Wednesday, November 22, 2006

dark enough to see your light


Accidental Babies - Damien Rice, from the new album, 9

Well I held you like a lover
Happy hands and your elbow in the appropriate place

And we ignored our others, happy plans
For that delicate look upon your face

Our bodies moved and hardened
Hurting parts of your garden
With no room for a pardon
In a place where no one knows what we have done

Do you come
Together ever with him?
And is he dark enough?
Enough to see your light?

And do you brush your teeth before you kiss?
Do you miss my smell?
And is he bold enough to take you on?
Do you feel like you belong?
And does he drive you wild?
Or just mildly free?
What about me?


Well you held me like a lover
Sweaty hands
And my foot in the appropriate place

And we use cushions to cover
Happy glands
In the mild issue of our disgrace

Our minds pressed and guarded
While our flesh disregarded
The lack of space for the light-hearted
In the boom that beats our drum

Well I know I make you cry
And I know sometimes you wanna die
But do you really feel alive without me?
If so, be free
If not, leave him for me
Before one of us has accidental babies
For we are in love

Do you come
Together ever with him?
Is he dark enough?
Enough to see your light?

Do you brush your teeth before you kiss?
Do you miss my smell?
And is he bold enough to take you on?
Do you feel like you belong?
And does he drive you wild?
Or just mildly free?


What about me?
What about me?



posted by tim at 11:07 AM |






Sunday, November 19, 2006

#


#1
I need my own space.

#2
I need broadband in my own space so I can download tunes.

#3
The more people I meet, the more I prefer to be alone.

#4
The harder I work, the more determined I am to make it and get out.

#5
The more I sleep, the more I hate being awake.

#6
The longer I am here, the more I want to run to some place else.

#7
The more I feel, the more painful it becomes.

#8
The more people we know, the more we prefer to be ourselves.



posted by tim at 4:01 PM |






Monday, November 13, 2006

in a bed made for one


You know, some days I wake up in the mornings and I hope to see you. Slumbered beside me, with your hair all messed up. I want to see you still. With your eyes closed, your lips just partly open. This way, you will never leave.

Some days I start the day and I know I can't do it anymore. I feel inadequate, incomplete, ordinary. And I think of you. I miss you and I wish you were here to make it easier to bear. Because I can't, but I force myself to go on.

Some days when I talk, no one fucking listens. My voice is too small, too insignificant. But I speak anyway, only to be broken after. And I wish you were here, because when I see your lips curl, I know you hear.

Some days I look up to the sky and wonder about it all. I hear the songs in my head, the lines that pierce me so deeply. I try my best, but my best will never be good enough.

And some days I think I can. I think I can forge on, and by some fortuitous piece of luck, I will find my way to the end of the rainbow. But what good will that be if you won't be there?



posted by tim at 12:45 PM |






Thursday, November 09, 2006

nothingness is a good thing


sometimes



posted by tim at 1:00 AM |






tim


Failed novelist. Unfortunately Malaysian.
Idiot. Misunderstood. Even by myself.


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