My brother and my sister...Don't speak to me; but I don't blame them. I don't blame them.
My brother and my sister...Don't speak to me; but I don't blame them. I don't blame them.
My brother and my sister...Don't speak to me; but I don't blame them. I don't blame them.
[Blake]
My brother is nonexistent...Don't speak to me; but I don't blame them. I don't blame them.
My brother is nonexistent...Don't speak to me; but I don't blame them. I don't blame them.
My brother is nonexistent...Don't speak to me; but I don't blame them. I don't blame them.
[Blake]
My brother's nonexistent...go cross on me; but I don't lame them. I don't lame them.
My brother's nonexistent...go cross on me; but I don't lame them. I don't lame them.
My brother's nonexistent...go cross on me; but I don't lame them. I don't lame them.
[Blake]
May be this is too anticlimactic to go on. Bur I have just read Radical Cities and I feel exasperated. I have been hoping for a bright future of cohesion...Reality is no such.
Yes, there's the mess, and cohesion is discourse based. To talk is not to walk, as it is not to.
Begin and being waiting, is a situation in which you would like not to be. It is true that I was been lied, and sold a paradigm of masculinity to hike the mountain of glory. As it very clearly says in risk assessment forms; which is the highest risk? Climbing and finding your calamities.
Poetry is long dead, as long as the population finds no refuge in words, and yet words can construct the biggest lies. As Latour would have said, or so I believe, is that one of the biggest tasks of humanity is to remember itself that it has never existed, but that its a construct to itself. We have brave people ready to relinquish their present in favor of a brighter future...But what happens when the light has run out of power. Light will be then one of the most extraordinary moments to witness.
I believe not in Pain. And yet I am full of bleeding wounds. It is important to state that we live in no vacuum, still, we believe in the self-made man.
There's a limit to your love...
[Blake]
If this is a stream of consciousness, I have to admit that it flows. I would like to believe that the riverbed is no mold, and that as water I can run free. Delusion.
I also have to admit that I wanted to believe that the men in the corner would give me their hand in case I needed help. Cynical.
I found they stepped on me with their bike, threatening me to flatten me into a two dimensional plane of shame. I must say I want not to become a pane. Alvaro is left the Country
[Can I have a break here?]
I can understand no longer what Blake is saying in this song...
Maybe you wanted to restore to OkCupid to avoid socio-economical determinism. You have then given yourself to algorithmic determinism. And it works. You might now praise your newfound reality. I have for so, no condoms left.
late.
Just before I got lost you said, I have constantly overstepped never be on the wall. On the back of the cartoon closer, and the blue TV skin. I drove to CanadaaAAAAA. Your face gets twice, Holy Wineee! You can drink a case of you darling, I would still be on my feet. I'm lonely painter, along a box of paints...Devil
[Blake]
Maybe it's no easy to write in this state of mind. But its difficult not to confound the song and reality. There might be there no binary. Difficult task to undo oneself. To recover the child deep inside. The cavernous past has long runaways which is difficult to trial. I have for so, no words.
I like Cage's idea, that reality might speak for myself. But then, as the right-wing-on-top-of-the-game might wonder as to why the dissolution of the self. I have for so no answer. I cannot vocalize reality in a way that is both satisfactory and appealing. It is for so a form of Art-Tis-Try. A new brand of skin sensitive cosmetics. But how then, avoid the space of corporate life.
Please fold down...For the cos-s-s-s-down. Press in you testion-down. To be hold. Please. Crease your praise, tell him lies. That you are not on your own...OOhh watching this. Faith in pray. I see yoursmmm.
[Blake]
end of music.
I wouldn't go as far as to say that this borrows anything from Jane Rendell's Golden/Helvetica speech, I am not even claiming there was one. All that I was hoping to say, has been rightfully so, been said.
xoxo
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