new year's eve prayer

New Year's Eve Prayer

You, my love, are allowed to forget
About the Christmas you just spent stressed out in your parents house.

You, my love, are allowed to shed
The weight of all the years before, like bad disco clothes,
Save them for a night of dancing, stoned with you lover.

You, my love, are allowed to let yourself drown
Every night in bottomless wild and naked symbolic dreams.

You, my love, in sleep can unlock
Your youth and your most terrifying magic and dreamings for the courageous.

You, my love, are allowed to grab my guitar
And sing me idiot love songs if you've lost your ability to speak.
Keep it down to two minutes.

You, my love, are allowed to rot and to die
And then live again, more alive and incandescent than before.

You, my love, are allowed to beat the shit out of your television.
Choke it's thoughts and corrupt its mind.
Kill! Kill! Kill! KILL The motherfucker before the song of zombiefied pain and panic and malaise and it's narrow right-winged vision and it's cheap commercial gang rape becomes the white noise of the world.
Turn about is fair play.

You, my love, are allowed to forgive and love your television.

You, my love, are allowed to speak in kisses to those around you and those up in heaven.

You, my love, are allowed to show your babies how to dance full bodied, starry eyed, audacious, supernatural and glorified.

You, my love, are allowed to suck in every single endeavor.

You, my love, are allowed to be soaked like a lovers' blanket in the New York summertime with the wonder of your own special gift.

You, my love, are allowed to receive praise,

You, my love, are allowed to have time,

You, my love, are allowed to understand,

You, my love, are allowed to love,

Woman disobey,
When little men believe,

That you, my love, are Rebellion

brittany

a beautiful, talented and clearly radiant person taken too soon

Rest in peace

it's like a weird snake

I'm really into flying. I don't care about being a gospel singer or a blues singer per se, but elements of that music are keys to my subconscious. When I sing something like that--if I do it right--it's like a weird snake that will get in you and unlock something. If I wasn't able to do this, I think I would really lay down and die. 
Music comes from a very primal, twisted place. When a person sings, their body, their mouth, their eyes, their words, their voice says all these unspeakable things that you really can't explain but that mean something anyway. People are completely transformed when they sing; people look like that when they sing or when they make love. But it's a weird thing--at the end of the night I feel strange, because I feel I've told everybody all my secrets.

jeff buckley

mka style

sleep late

Sleep late now mama

Let the mornin' sun warm your bed

While I'm away

Ah, it's a happy time inside my mind

When a melody does find a rhyme

Says to me I'm comin' home to stay

Oh, Lord, home to stay

I'm comin' home to stay

Home to stay 

Sleep late now mama

Let the mornin' sun warm your bed

While I'm away

happy time by tim buckley

johnny

My body is a journal in a way, where every tattoo means something, a specific time in your life where you make a mark on yourself.
 When kids hit one year old, it's like hanging out with a miniature drunk. You have to hold onto them. They bump into things. They laugh and cry. They urinate. They vomit.
As a teenager I was so insecure. I was the type of guy that never fitted in because he never dared to choose. I was convinced I had absolutely no talent at all. For nothing. And that thought took away all my ambition too.

 If I can avoid the mirror when I brush my teeth in the morning, I will.

I'm attracted to the extreme light and the extreme dark. I'm interested in the human condition and what makes people tick. I'm interested in the things people try to hide.

you don't remember

The sunshine reminds you of concreted skies  You thought you were flying but you opened your eyes  And you found yourself falling back to yesterday's lies  Hello, pleasant street, you know she's back again  You wheel, you steal, you feel, you kneel down 

this song is so mesmerizing.

serve people

we got things that are happening, man, that are actually putting us in a state of mind of accepting things, like TV from the very beginning and also public schools has been the great lobotomizer all along. i mean you sit in and watch a TV and its hypnosis. it works on some sort of eye strain and all sorts of multi images and everything like that and you sit there and look at it, it doesn't matter what you're looking at, its just hypnotizing you, and it's just anything that can be put in a lot of peoples homes is made for bread. now you got people who are hip enough  inside in the inner world knowing that everything in the outer world is not the world: cars, your suit, how much perfume you wear-- that's not the world. what's the world is what's inside and what cats have lived to pull out of themselves all through time.

watch this interview with tim buckley