What were we hoping for?

The Pioneers:

(key)

::blocparty

::me

If it can be broke then it can be fixed, if it can be fused then it can be split

hope with desperation. failure with success. good with bad. dichotomy is our lives. and there are two sides to everything.
It's all under control

it's how life is designed, and there is nothing we can do about it but to realize that it might be this way for a reason.
If it can be lost then it can be won, if it can be touched then it can be turned

everything can be had, yet nothing attained. everything changed, yet it will always be the same.
All you need is time

time will heal all. life is short, and yet we have all the time in the world.

We promised the world we'd tame it, what were we hoping for?

tasks such as these require a loss of expectations.

A sense of purpose and a sense of skill, a sense of function but a disregard

meaning is everything. significance is desire. but how can we?
We will not be the first, we won't

if we think we're alone in this two faced existence we're kidding ourselves. we aren't the first to forge this life.
You said you were going to conquer new frontiers,
Go stick your bloody head in the jaws of the beast

certain death lies in this pathway. evolution won't come without a price.

We promised the world, we'd tame it, what were we hoping for?

Breath in, breath out

it's possible. none of it's possible.

So here we are reinventing the wheel

nothing is new under the sun, son
I'm shaking hands with a hurricane

pleasantries with a disaster. certainly an inappropriate interaction
It's a colour that I can't describe,

It's a language I can't understand

this life is beyond what i know, what i understand. all modes of analysis are lost on this.
Ambition, tearing out the heart of you
Carving lines into you
Dripping down the sides of you
ambition is a bitch. it will beat you into submission and then grant you the world.
We will not be the last.

the world will be ours, and because of that, it will be everyones.

-Bloc Party

And it is good.

I just saw Synecdoche, New York. It's Charlie Kaufman's new movie. It was... It's the day after Christmas, and that's a relief more than I thought it would be. But Steph is playing and writing next to me which is more pleasant than I thought. It's warming up in here finally, my dashboard says its 48 degrees here in LA. Not that that's unbearably cold, but it's chilly, there's no denying. 

"The more we know someone, the more we disappoint them, and they us." And I guess if you don't want to disappoint anyone, you kind of have to lower your expectations of others so as to never be disappointed by them either. That doesn't leave much room for doing anything. Cause I guess once your expectations are low enough, your life begins to mirror what you expect from it. It is awful funny being in a city so big, and feeling alone. Alone because everyone is still at home for Christmas. Well, nearly everyone. It feels like everyone. I can't believe I've never been in love. And how ironic now that I'm not even sure it exists. Romantic love, not love of mankind or anything. That I can jump on board with for sure. 

Have you ever had the experience where you feel as if you are a part of the music your are playing or listening to. As if it moves through you and you move as a part of it. All of you moving in the direction of truth, beauty, good things. I guess it's been happening more and more, and I think it's beginning to save me. Why there is hope in music I couldn't even begin to explain. But, it is community. And it is good. And it is rectifying, and redeeming. It's a struggle, therefore makes you grow. Makes you see what it is that really matters. 

Everything can just get so contrived and convoluted sometimes that you loose yourself in something that was never meant to be so complex. 

quid pro quo

Life is such a funny thing. I am hopeful about life, and believe that you should be hopeful in life. But I definitely have a certain desperation in my attitude toward life. A hopeful desperation if you will. An idea that good is capable of being achieved, that love will eventually win out. But that none of this will be done with ease, with out a fight, a messy fight. Because there is a dichotomy at work. An un-actualized paradise we look toward with outstretched arm. And a realized brokenness in which we move in and out of as we wake, and as we lay down at night. It is the give and take, the quid pro quo, of creation. So though I am hopeful, I must fight to be hopeful, in the honest reality that all is not right; and all will not be right if not for the unification of people in the name of something good. So I find myself as two when thinking about what I will be doing in the future; where I will be, what I will be doing. One side, hopeful, seeing the ideal as a viable option. The other side seeing certain failure, and having the ability to accept that and move on. I don’t know if this a depressing, or fatalistic way of looking at the world, or just an honest one, but it’s just the way I see it for now. I’m grateful life is able to teach us and help us grow and evolve though. 

what? i was outside. it was cold. so i wrote

The cold

the rain.

They match my pain

my depression 

hitting with each rain drop

in attempts to prop

my heart open 

to truth and despair

the brotherhood of the fates

staring me down like a motherfucker

standing still

the chills not quite penetrating me

the burning timber of my soul

eats at the tobacco in my hands

cold cold cold

its winter

and I am seasonal