You live like this, sheltered, in a delicate world, and you believe you are living. Then you read a book… or you take a trip… and you discover that you are not living, that you are hibernating. The symptoms of hibernating are easily detectable: first, restlessness. The second symptom (when hibernating becomes dangerous and might degenerate into death): absence of pleasure. That is all. It appears like an innocuous illness. Monotony, boredom, death. Millions live like this (or die like this) without knowing it. They work in offices. They drive a car. They picnic with their families. They raise children. And then some shock treatment takes place, a person, a book, a song, and it awakens them and saves them from death. Some never awaken.
The Funniest Honey..
The tids and the bits that are often found just laying around
It’s only been a few weeks doing the same thing everyday - but doing the same thing everyday makes only a few weeks disappear into thin air, leaving one feeling strangely vacant and calm like the dust particles that cling helplessly to the air existing between lonely beams of light… It may be only a few weeks that have passed, but the strange cap that has been placed on all inspiration is now getting to be heavier and heavier to bear.
So i’ve decided to challenge myself, my former self, and hopefully my new self to do like my youngest self always did - see the inspiration in everything.
Starting with this video.
I stumbled upon it the other day while stalking (I’m sure she wouldn’t find it too strange) my new muse’s Youtube channel. I’ve known this girl my entire life and watched her transform before my eyes literally coming out of the most extreme corners of darkness into pure white light that is so radiant it’s an impossible feat to remain vacant and calm and somewhat thoughtless while in her presence.
It’s this white light that I want to figure out. This beautiful form of spirit that is what makes each and every one of us - US. This light that so many cage up year after year of mindless conformity. With every negative thought, every piece of the past that’s clung on to, every awful word or look one chooses to allow to effect them lays just one more brick onto the wall, closing off their light from the world. If we don’t cultivate it, feed it, appreciate, understand, and share it - the only thing that will get to bask in our unique and divine glory are the dust particles that cling helplessly to the slivers of air lucky enough to be illuminated by the light crying out from between the cracks of that brick wall.
So this is what I stumbled upon. Simple enough. A music video. A music video that was liked by millions before me. Something about it woke up the me inside myself. The me that won’t be walled in. Watch it “Too Young to Kill” by Brite Futures… it’s cool & their music is wildly giddy and infectious too. Shine on :)
Let’s git inspired unce unce
Today I went discovering a section of the city typically left undiscovered. In one of the most undesirable parts of Toronto I found so much beauty. Almost as though I uncovered a tiny playground just for me. Antique furniture stores with owners straight from movie scenes, ancient books hidden in corners of small musty bookstores, black green eyed cats, old records, new records, picturesque polluted parks. Strange but so beautiful - like that silly garbage bag from American Beauty. Come visit me, there are so many unexpected fun activities waiting just outside… Oh. Yeah.
(via kingdomnada)
DANCE MONKEYS DANCE by Ernest Cline
Watch this video - it’s what i’ve been trying to tell you for quite some time now.
“The monkeys [even] shave the hair off their bodies in blatant denial of their true monkey nature.”
RE: That one time. With the tears. In the front row… in the car… in the shower… in the office…
Adele shouldn’t make a perfume, she should make a kick-ass waterproof mascara and sell it with every album. Can I get a brilliant?
I can’t decide if I really want to, or if I really want to run in the other direction… fast.
It’s like that one time, the other day, I heard some awesome kids do a live, a cappella performance of Adele’s “Someone Like you” and started heaving sobs, front row, at what was a supposed to be a night full of comedy, music, and beer.
… it’s a problem
Handsome man with sparkler, exhibit A)
“The stories that I have told myself are bleeding into a dream, finally, that is slowly coming true. I’ve learned, from living in this town, that stories are what matter, and that if we can believe them, I mean really believe them, we have a chance at redemption.”
-Miriam Toews
A Complicated Kindness
(via plutoblues)
This gets me excited.
Perfect balance between electro & rubadubdub…
Can’t wait to see this youngin’ perform. Oh yeah - Porter Robinson is only 18.
When I was 18 I was also creating bomb diggity dance music and dj’ing live to crazy wild sexy audiences around the world. Weren’t we all?
God I feel old… old but hip right?
The record player, fireplace, red clock and stack of unread books. My dusty guitar, bad lighting and cheshire cat cup (that always surprised me with the amount of liquid it could contain). The heat waves and stinking garbage, the magical carpet of a bed and the tracks it left in the hardwood. The lauren and the jamie.
I miss being a nomadic home roamer - I think I’ve had enough of this staying still.
Let’s rumble.
