January 2011
56 posts
1 tag
i used to be so afraid of how other people would perceive me from what somebody else told them. i was horrified over the fact that a person might not like me, even if they didn’t know a thing about me. lately, i don’t mind it. i can’t find the time to care anymore. most people are going to say what they need, to whoever they want. it’s only in the way i carry myself that counts. it’s the only...
you’re the icing on the cake on the table at my wake you’re the flowers in my house when allergies come out you’re the extra ton of cash on my sinking life raft you’re the loud sound of fun when i’m trying to sleep you’re the good things, yeah, that’s you.
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sometimes you know you’ve got a chance with a person because they want to fight with you. if the world wasn’t so messed up, it wouldn’t be like that. if the world was normal, somebody being nice to you would be a good sign, but in the real world, it isn’t.
grant us one more hour to perform our art and...
it’s no good pretending that any relationship has a future if your record collections disagree violently or if your favorite films wouldn’t even speak to each other if they met at a party.
what i want is to be needed. what i need is to be indispensable to somebody. who i need is somebody that will eat up all my free time, my ego, my attention. somebody addicted to me. a mutual addiction.
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a psychedelic experience is a journey to new realms of consciousness. the scope and content of the experience is limitless, but its characteristic features are the transcendence of verbal concepts, of space-time dimensions, and of the ego or identity. such experiences of enlarged consciousness can occur in a variety of ways: sensory deprivation, yoga exercises, disciplined meditation, religious or...
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it doesn’t matter to me how cold it is outside. i can’t sleep unless the window next to my bed is open. that’s probably why i’m sick all the time. but i like the way the air smells and how it sounds and what it reminds me of. i don’t understand why everyone complains about this weather, i think it’s kind of beautiful. it feels good.
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i have to meet bill murray before i die, or before...
god, but life is loneliness, despite all the opiates, despite the shrill tinsel gaiety of “parties” with no purpose, despite the false grinning faces we all wear. and when at last you find someone to whom you feel you can pour out your soul, you stop in shock at the words you utter. they are so rusty, so ugly, so meaningless and feeble from being kept in the small cramped dark inside you so long.
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have you felt it too? have you seen how your best friends love everything about you, except the things that count? and your most important is nothing to them. nothing. not even a sound they can recognize.
so many people enter and leave your life. hundreds of thousands of people. you have to keep the door open so they can come in. but it also means you have to let them go.
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there’s famine and poverty and disease and war, there’s a million other problems in the world that are a hundred times worse than anybody else’s i know. forgive me if i get tired of hearing the same dilemma day after day. emotion. feelings. boys. that whole spectrum. i’m happy with my life. i’m fortunate that i have what i have, even after everything i lost. and...
i don’t know, there’s something about you. say there’s an hourglass. the sand’s about to run out. someone like you can always be counted on to turn the thing over.
if you take away my nerves and leave just my...
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i have never felt this. it’s good, and it’s warm. i wake up and put on lennon in the morning and think about everything that’s happened, and what’s happening, and how much it’s changed, and it’s different. it’s not something i need to talk about constantly. it’s unlike anything else i’ve ever had before. sometimes, i think maybe it might be...
i don’t believe in magic, i don’t believe in yi jing, i don’t believe in bible, i don’t believe in tarot, i don’t believe in hitler, i don’t believe in jesus, i don’t believe in kennedy, i don’t believe in buddha, i don’t believe in mantra, i don’t believe in gita, i don’t believe in yoga, i don’t believe in kings, i...
it takes time to get rid of all this garbage that i’ve been carrying around that was influencing the way i thought and the way i lived. it had a lot to do with yoko, showing me that i was still possessed. i left physically when i fell in love with yoko, but mentally it took the last ten years of struggling. i learned everything from her. that’s what people don’t understand....
i can only note that the past is beautiful, because one never realizes an emotion at the time. it expands later. we don’t have complete emotions about the present. only about the past.
you spend your whole life stuck in the labyrinth, thinking about how you’ll escape it one day, and how awesome it will be, and imagining that future keeps you going, but you never do it. you just use the future to escape the present.
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have you ever heard a joke so many times you've...
some things are hard to write about. after something happens to you, you go to write it down, and either you over dramatize it, or underplay it, exaggerate the wrong parts or ignore the important ones. at any rate, you never write it quite the way you want to.
one of the most tragic things i know about human nature is that all of us tend to put off living. we are all dreaming of some magical rose garden over the horizon, instead of enjoying the roses that are blooming outside our windows today.
we must always remember to thank the CIA and the army for LSD, by the way. everything is the opposite of what it is, isn’t it? they brought out LSD to control people, and what they did was give us freedom. if you look a the government report book on acid, the only ones who jumped out of windows were the ones in the army. i never knew anybody who jumped out of a window or killed themselves...
i think it’s got to be all part of our DNA, this mass communication through music. that’s what it is. it’s got to be, hasn’t it? music is the one thing that has been consistently there for me. it hasn’t let me down.
“what in hell are you really made of, howard? after all, it’s only a building. it’s not the combination of holy sacrament, indian torture, and sexual ecstasy you seem to make it.” “isn’t it?”
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i want to marry someone, so i can rest my soul with him until we both get old. this can’t go on all the time, all this floating around. we’ve got to go someplace. find something. this won’t be now. this will be far from now. at this moment i am happy with floating.
i don’t know you. the only thing i know about you is, you’re reading this. i don’t know if you’re happy or not. i don’t know whether you’re young or not. i sort of hope you’re young and sad. if you’re old and happy, i can imagine that you’ll smile to yourself when you hear me going, he broke my heart.
looking toward the future, we were begging for the...
