that time of the month / back to the drawing board

*looks through recent tweets*

my heart: looks like we got some work to do

me: man....

kruczynski

sure I'll take your picture
and I'll cherish your petals
and your colour
like the last hours
of daylight
like the echoes of gold
that fill the city in August
and softly turn to pink
I'll suffer the rain and
the fire of youth
For you
I would suffer cold
and violent winds,
and when the petals have fallen
I will love you
in the winter
as I have loved you
in the spring

to the young people

"To the young people who love this song/music ,here is a romantic theme and this music was played at a time when you danced holding your partner,You could dance with any girl/woman, but you held your girl closer .She was special .You danced as one and you could feel her mind and body as you held her closely .Today's music is tribal ,There is no romance and the words sound like drunken street talk. It is very hard to explain this to you because you may have little reference to what I am saying.Until you have been glided around a dance floor in the arms of some one you love ,to this and many songs like it, you haven't lived."

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That's the flip side of a life lived with gratitude I guess. In that once you begin to notice all the good things and tiny blessings and learn to be thankful for them, you also become acutely aware that none of them will last. It manifests itself as a certain kind of sadness. Why joy is always bittersweet. If you become aware that you are at the pinnacle of an experience, you also become aware that the only way to go from there is down. If every cloud has a silver lining, every blessing leaves you with a little grief. If you live like this for a long time, if you let this truth seep beneath your skin, it'll change the way you live. You tread the earth gentler, speak softer, like you're carrying something fragile inside you, the knowledge that every time you say goodbye to someone it might be forever.

---

what's the verse about, do you think

fear of death maybe? not just of yourself, but of all things. teaching us to look for value, to cherish the ephemeral

eternal sunshine

---

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"One minute was enough, Tyler said, a person had to work hard for it, but a minute of perfection was worth the effort. A moment was the most you could ever expect from perfection." 

- Chuck Palahniuk, Fight Club

countdown

Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom.

---

---

No Will, I’m not kiddin’ you. If I had gone to see that game I’d be in here talkin’ abouta girl I saw at a bar twenty years ago. And how I always regretted not goin’ over there and talkin’ to her. I don’t regret the eighteen years we were married. I don’t regret givin’ up counseling for six years when she got sick. I don’t regret being by her side for the last two years when things got real bad. And I sure as Hell don’t regret missing that damn game.

---

Year of unprecedented growth. The year you learn that life experience is measured in cities moved, jobs begun, risks taken, passions pursued, sacrifices made, roads not taken, illusions shattered, tears cried, hysterical laughing fits induced, colleagues consoled, prayers answered, conversations curated, relationships nurtured, trespasses forgiven, mistakes allowed, weaknesses acknowledged, losses cut, lessons learned.
The year you learn the value of life experience. The year you learn to stop dreading it.


---

Do not call to mind the former things,
 Or ponder things of the past.
“Behold, I will do something new,
 Now it will spring forth;
 Will you not be aware of it?
 I will even make a roadway in the wilderness,
 Rivers in the desert.

Good Will Huntingtons: same movie only the camera is real shaky and Will dies in his fifties 

nothing will never be like it was

resistance in the materials iv

妙な甘えでもう誰も失いたくない
逢って答えをそっと確かめたいけど
触れ合いに逃避するのは禁止　戸惑いつつも変えているんだ

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'Young people these days expect love to be effortless. Expect to be overcome by feeling.' He coughed violently.

Stefan hazarded a glimpse at his watch. The last train would leave in 15 minutes, but he knew interrupting the old man would only mean a longer lecture.

'They think it's something that just happens to you and carries you along, like a tsunami or natural disaster... Naive!!! They kiss each other and wonder why it doesn't feel the way it looks on TV. Something must be wrong. We must be not right for each other.' He chuckled softly to himself, blackened lungs crepitating like cheap plastic.

'You young people believe in magic, but you don't understand hard work. You think art is all inspiration. Do you know how many hours it takes to paint a frame like this? Do you think I was in love, infatuated with each wrong stroke and scribble. Do you think this would exist if I were satisfied with just doodling alone in a room. This movie, if by some miracle, if it makes it to the screen, and makes the viewer feel a little bit of magic - do you think they suspect what labour, what sacrifice and suffering was necessary to create it? Of course not. What makes the art difficult is that it has to reveal truth in a way that conceals itself. The viewer musn't think of the different shades of green in this tree, or the protractor used to calculate the angle of the light's rays. She must simply see it as a tree, accept unquestioningly that it is a clear and cloudless summer day. Only then can she experience it as magic. Your movies and music all sell you the expectation that a single spark is all you need and the rest is fate. The truth is that you need that spark, and then the discipline and tenacity and courage and lunacy to cultivate that kernel into something beautiful.'