n. the moment you realize that you’re currently happy—consciously trying to savor the feeling—which prompts your intellect to identify it, pick it apart and put it in context, where it will slowly dissolve until it’s little more than an aftertaste.
Here’s the studio version with better sound quality.
This is the less well-known version from the “Jenny Ondioline” EP, which is a different performance from the one on the album “Transient Random-Noise Bursts With Announcements”. I think it was recorded later — the song seems to have developed a bit further, and I like this version better.
It seems no one’s deciphered all the words to this. Some fragments:
Within the only viable sun The only guidable sun … It can illuminate within To illuminate To accentuate To illuminate To accentuate Illuminate
From visible to invisible into That illuminates each fragment of the screen Put into the ball of which it’s part Observe
“There will be confusions, and there will be hunger; there will be loneliness with only my tears like wet consoling little birds, tumbling to sweeten my dry lips. But there shall be consolation, and there shall be beauty like the love of some dead girl. There shall be some laughter, a restrained laughter, and quiet waiting in the night, a soft fear of the night like the lavish, taunting kiss of death.”—John Fante | Ask the Dust (via skogsriket)
“I will remember your small room, the feel of you, the light in the window, your records, your books, our morning coffee, our noons, our nights, our bodies spilled together, sleeping, the tiny flowing currents, immediate and forever. Your leg, my leg, your arm, my arm, your smile and the warmth of you who made me laugh again.”—Charles Bukowski (via floralnymph)
“Perhaps all the dragons in our lives are princesses who are only waiting to see us act, just once, with beauty and courage. Perhaps everything that frightens us is, in its deepest essence, something helpless that wants our love.”—Rainer Maria Rilke (via wearediamonds)
“It isn’t possible to love and part. You will wish that it was. You can transmute love, ignore it, muddle it, but you can never pull it out of you. I know by experience that the poets are right: love is eternal.”—E.M. Forster, A Room with a View (via langste)
“I want to rip off your logic and make passionate sense to you. I want to ride in the swing of your hips. My fingers will dig in you like quotation marks, blazing your limbs into parts of speech.”—Jeffrey McDaniel
“Most of us have experienced a long day’s work and the reward of hard-earned exhaustion. We sink into a bed grateful for our soft pillows and the promise of a sweet night’s sleep. That is one kind of tired. The kind of tired that results from having a trauma exposure response is a bone-tired, soul-tired, heart-tired kind of exhaustion — your body is tired, your mind is tired, your spirit is tired, your people are tired. You can’t remember a time when you weren’t tired.”—van Dernoot Lipsky, L. (2009.) Trauma Stewardship. (via okigetit)