I've always adored this song (haha get it - Adore) but I haven't always realized how truly beautiful these lyrics are. Their metaphoric significance and poetic articulateness is honestly astounding to me. Whether this song is referring to death, separation, or love, I know that it will always inspire a certain amount of introspection. This is just another reason I love the Pumpkins...they are able to produce angst-driven melodramas and then turn around a perform the most simple sounding yet complexly worded love ballad.
To Sheila
Twilight fades through blistered avalon
The sky's cruel torch on aching autobahn
Into the uncertain divine
We scream into the last divide
You make me real
You make me real
Strong as I feel
You make me real
Sheila rides on crashing nightingale
Intake eyes leave passing vapor trails
With blushing brilliance alive
Because it's time to arrive
You make me real
You make me real
Strong as I feel
You make me real
Lately I just can't seem to believe
Discard my friends to change the scenery
It meant the world to hold a bruising faith
But now it's just a matter of grace
A summer storm graces all of me
Highway warm sing silent poetry
I could bring you the light
And take you home into the night
(You make me real) Lately i just can't seem to believe
(You make me real) Discard my friends to change the scenery
(Strong as I feel) It meant the world to hold a bruising faith
(You make me real) But now it's just a matter of grace
Tuesday, April 28, 2015
Monday, April 13, 2015
Copy Cat
How many people are truly who they outwardly appear to be?
I believe that there is an aspect of true happiness that is only available to those who are fully able embrace their individual sense of humanity. To express themselves without hesitation or fear of social standards and to relish in this obvious gifting of freedom! I want to maintain this concept of uniqueness as a prominent part of my life. To act without meaningless restraint or withheld interest in the nonuniform (to a certain standard of peace and respect for others, of course). Naturally, this is bound to bring to light the negative characteristics that are expected to come from a flawed species. Good! They are now recognizable, now do your best to eliminate them and become the best version of yourself possible.
Problem is, we're so caught up in the lives and trends around us that we will never fully achieve this concept of individuality. Have fun living as depressed copy cats, humans.
(I am by no means excluding myself from that statement, lol)
I believe that there is an aspect of true happiness that is only available to those who are fully able embrace their individual sense of humanity. To express themselves without hesitation or fear of social standards and to relish in this obvious gifting of freedom! I want to maintain this concept of uniqueness as a prominent part of my life. To act without meaningless restraint or withheld interest in the nonuniform (to a certain standard of peace and respect for others, of course). Naturally, this is bound to bring to light the negative characteristics that are expected to come from a flawed species. Good! They are now recognizable, now do your best to eliminate them and become the best version of yourself possible.
Problem is, we're so caught up in the lives and trends around us that we will never fully achieve this concept of individuality. Have fun living as depressed copy cats, humans.
(I am by no means excluding myself from that statement, lol)
Monday, April 6, 2015
Quotes by Kerourac
No class until 3:00? Might as well update my compilation of favorite quotes from On the Road. Although I have mixed feelings on the book as a whole, I did really appreciate certain passages that I read.
"But then they danced down the street like dingledodies, and I shambled after as I've been doing all my life after people who interest me, because the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes 'Awww!'" pg. 5-6
"And his 'criminality' was not something that sulked and sneered; it was a wild yea-saying overburst of American joy; it was western, the west wind, and ode from the plains, something new, long prophesied, long a-coming (he only stole cars for joyrides)" pg. 7 YES
"'Let's all go to my apartment!' I shouted. We did; the moment the car stopped there I jumped out and stood on ym head in the grass. All my keys fell out; I never found them. We ran, shouting, into the building. Roland Major stood barring our way in his silk dressing gown." pg. 44
"They were like the man with the dungeon stone and the gloom, rising the form underground, the sordid hipsters of America, a new beat generation that I was slowly joining." pg. 54
"Boys and girls in America have such a sad time together; sophistication demands that they submit to sex immediately without proper preliminary talk. Not courting talk - real straight talk about souls, for life is holy and every moment is precious." pg. 54
"We lay on our backs, looking at the ceiling and wondering what God had wrought when He made life so sad." pg. 58
"There is something brown and holy about the East; and California is while like washlines and emptyheaded - at least that's what I thought then." pg. 79 My thoughts on the new establishments of the West and the lack of significance they portray
"LA is the loneliest and most brutal of American cities; New York gets god-awful cold in the winter but there's a feeling of wacky comradeship somewhere in the streets. LA is a jungle." pg. 86 Theory of commonality causing community? And direct correlation to previous quote.
"I woke up as the sun was reddening; and that was the one distinct time in my life, the strangest moment of all, when I didn’t know who I was – I was far away from home, haunted and tired with travel, in a cheap hotel room I’d never seen, hearing the hiss of steam outside, and the creak of the old wood of the hotel, and footsteps upstairs, and all the sad sounds, and I looked at the cracked high ceiling and really didn’t know who I was for about fifteen strange seconds. I wasn’t scared; I was just somebody else, some stranger, and my whole life was a haunted life, the life of a ghost."
"But then they danced down the street like dingledodies, and I shambled after as I've been doing all my life after people who interest me, because the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes 'Awww!'" pg. 5-6
"And his 'criminality' was not something that sulked and sneered; it was a wild yea-saying overburst of American joy; it was western, the west wind, and ode from the plains, something new, long prophesied, long a-coming (he only stole cars for joyrides)" pg. 7 YES
"'Let's all go to my apartment!' I shouted. We did; the moment the car stopped there I jumped out and stood on ym head in the grass. All my keys fell out; I never found them. We ran, shouting, into the building. Roland Major stood barring our way in his silk dressing gown." pg. 44
"They were like the man with the dungeon stone and the gloom, rising the form underground, the sordid hipsters of America, a new beat generation that I was slowly joining." pg. 54
"Boys and girls in America have such a sad time together; sophistication demands that they submit to sex immediately without proper preliminary talk. Not courting talk - real straight talk about souls, for life is holy and every moment is precious." pg. 54
"We lay on our backs, looking at the ceiling and wondering what God had wrought when He made life so sad." pg. 58
"There is something brown and holy about the East; and California is while like washlines and emptyheaded - at least that's what I thought then." pg. 79 My thoughts on the new establishments of the West and the lack of significance they portray
"LA is the loneliest and most brutal of American cities; New York gets god-awful cold in the winter but there's a feeling of wacky comradeship somewhere in the streets. LA is a jungle." pg. 86 Theory of commonality causing community? And direct correlation to previous quote.
"I woke up as the sun was reddening; and that was the one distinct time in my life, the strangest moment of all, when I didn’t know who I was – I was far away from home, haunted and tired with travel, in a cheap hotel room I’d never seen, hearing the hiss of steam outside, and the creak of the old wood of the hotel, and footsteps upstairs, and all the sad sounds, and I looked at the cracked high ceiling and really didn’t know who I was for about fifteen strange seconds. I wasn’t scared; I was just somebody else, some stranger, and my whole life was a haunted life, the life of a ghost."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)