Modern Love – Yeah Yeah Yeahs

Don’t hold on
go get strong
well don’t you know
there is no modern romance

Time, time is gone
it stops stops who it wants
well i was wrong
it never lasts
there is no
this is no modern romance

in time, time is gone
never lasts, stops who he was
well i was wrong
never lasts

this is no
there is no modern romance
there is no modern romance
this is no modern romance
there is no there is no

(about 1 minute later)

baby I’m afraid of a lot of things
but
I aint scared of lovin you
baby I know your afraid of a lot of things
but
dont be scared of love

cause
people will say all kinds of thing
that dont mean a damn to me
cause all I see
is whats in front of me
and thats you

well, I’ve been dragged all over the place
i’ve taken hits time just don’t erase
and baby i can see you’ve been fucked with too
but that dont mean your lovin days are through

cause people will say all kinds of things
that don’t mean a damn to me
cause all I see
is whats in front of me
and thats you

well I maybe just be a fool
but I know you’re just as cool
and cool kids
they belong together

sharlene sent me the yeah yeah yeahs 7 years ago and these days i wonder where she is. there were conversations, there were 1 ams and thunderstorms, and then there was nothing and i miss her sheer incandescence and clarity of thought.

what is a modern romance, does romance exist these days and these days i have  my uncertainties about it. why can’t there be simplicity in relationships, why cant people just love fecklessly and ruthlessly without premeditation, why cant there be purity of thought in something that should be so? many simple questions make me sound asinine, but i suppose we are enchanted by complexities, by things which we cannot get because if it’s too easy everything becomes demeaned in value.

is a modern romance a digitalisation of interaction, but if it’s so there’s really nothing which suffices as a replacement for tangible but why is it in this case that you are so enchanted by words? words are a romanticization of sorts, a beatification of a relationship, but maybe that’s just me.

it’s always just me.

Sunday Jen – Slackstring

shall we jam on sundays with jennifer, is jennifer a sunday jen then, but the only jen i know was almost a year ago, a dessert chef from calgary and it has been a long time. i miss her, i wonder how she is now and i will remember the kumquat compote recipe she taught me for a long time.

i tried jumping today, but the bundles of nerves at the back of my heel screamed in protest as i lept a miniscule 4 centimeters. ligaments/tendons shifted, there was a sharp burst of pain and that’s that. the doctor said it will take 4 weeks to heal but that was what he said 3 weeks ago, and he said that it will take an additional 3 weeks but how true is that. will it be a continuation of my chronic achilles tendinitis, am i fated to never run again and maybe i am fatalistic that way but it’s bad enough to take away a dream, much less two.

identify your strengths and weaknesses “my weaknesses” yes, your weaknesses (but remember to turn it into a strength) “but my weakness is my achilles heel” you’re repeating my question “no, i am not, i am crippled by my achilles heel, and there’s nothing i can do to fix it.” that’s not resiliency. “no, it’s not, it’s a fatality”.

strings stretch, tighten, become taut before they eventually snap; at which junction are you at dear sir.

Trust You – Itou Yuna

i wish i can be the father who will never fall out of love with the mother, but i am, and that is something i need to learn from before i can start moving on. 

this morning i dreamt of an old friend getting married to his girlfriend and i remembered him saying in a voiceover of sorts (it is a dream, nothing makes sense and everything seems right in dreams somehow) that it was about time, that he knows he will not be able to juggle work with love in the meantime once he graduates so why not just get married first since she is the love of his dreams? i agreed, because i know she is, and because it is a commitment of sorts, something you do only if you’re really sure.

yesterday in the student kitchen as cantonese was flying all about me, sylvia and i exchanged family stories, and we both agreed on the concept of love; not to each other mind you, but the general principalities of it. it was surreal, it was tantamount to an eye in the middle of a storm, but it was nice, and who would have guessed that the garish yellowing room would bear testament to such an event?

i have never fractured anything before, and it seems almost poetic that my first such injury would be my fibula -  fractured fibula foments fuckingagony but that wouldn’t be right wouldn’t it? alliteration, word play, words, words.

fractured hearts heal and mend, but they will never be the same.

The Ballad of Lea and Paul – K’s Choice

http://www.wired.com/entertainment/hollywood/magazine/17-03/ff_moore_qa?currentPage=all

words words, that’s all we live on. that, and ideas, images and passion. but who’s lea, who’s paul, will i ever meet them, will i have a ballad of my own?