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December 19, 2003
Festival of Lights
Joyous Hannukah to all.
I wish someone would come make me latkes.
Posted by pogo at 06:47 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack
December 17, 2003
I’ll Take You A’Ridin’ in the Car-Car
I remember seeing an interview with a Brooklyn girl once. It was her birthday and she was talking about how she would go around the way later that night and Brooklyn would “take care” of her. Symbiosis.
I’m not much of a joiner. I don’t like clubs. I don’t like group mentality. I don’t like the assumption that if you like one thing, you must like another, or if you like one thing, you must look a certain way, all that stuff.
At the same time, everytime I go to a good show or see a great band, I get so giddy and happy, and feel like I’m a charter member of the coolest club in the world, and the luckiest girl in it. Punk rock will take care of me.
I don’t have much faith or hope in the populace at large. But most of the time I have hope for punks. I met a girl today. She is super cool and I hope we end up being good friends. She gave me a car.
Posted by pogo at 05:09 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack
December 15, 2003
To Music
by Rainer Maria Rilke
Music: breathing of statues. Perhaps:
silence of paintings. You language where all language
ends. You time
standing vertically on the motion of mortal hearts.
Feelings for whom? O you the transformation
of feelings into what?-: into audible landscape.
You stranger: music. You heart-space
grown out of us. The deepest space in us,
which, rising above us, forces its way out,-
holy departure:
when the innermost point in us stands
outside, as the most practiced distance, as the other
side of the air:
pure,
boundless,
no longer habitable.
Translated by Stephen Mitchell
Posted by pogo at 08:04 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack