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of rushed words and hushed thirsts
mellowman

the wave, the surge

Some call it love and some call it sex.
opposites.
Call it what you want, but with one touch and you’re gone, so call in sick.
Human politics, from whispered hushes and distant crushes.
Mental fits breakin’ pencil tips and
inkin’ brushes.
Simple rushes.
God makes man and this is the devil's finishing touches.
- Butterfly Effect -

alfresco

beat, rhythm
questions, answers

movements



brief traces

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Sunday, January 10, 2016

I like indie rock, alternative rock, ballads, cheesy pop music, electronica, funk, folk, hip hop and idk just good music if I hear it. I really like good music, but I'm not refined nor am I music connoisseur. I don't listen to Chopin or Schubert or Beethoven or Bach. I would if someone recommended me something from them, but as of yet no one has and I don't know where to start. So I don't.

I'm learning Korean drum at school. It's called janggo. It's fun despite my uncoordinated hands hitting the drums out of tune. It's fun because I am somehow able to express myself through sound that is not my own, because I get to make mistakes and be bad at it and laugh at myself for sucking so much. I also want to learn one song on the piano from my housemate. She's amazing. I want to be able to create sound through my fingers too, and not make people cringe when I hit the keys on the piano.


I like writing. It's a way to express myself. I'm not good at it but it's something that I need to do or I wont be able to function like a sane enough person. Or if I don't, then I'm not grounded to my reality. I'd be too out there without being in myself.


I like languages because I like words and its meanings. I like understanding meaning of each word, the weight they carry and the burden of the stories they heave. It's something magical, and movable. Because words move through you and shake your core, clenches your whole and when they leave, you are different. Your eyes and your touch make sense of what they sense slightly unlike how they were a few moments ago. They have moved. And so have you. Words leave, but they remain with you when it counts. You hope they remain too, you hope your neurons serve their duty, and you hope your heart holds on to the meaning it has made, the feelings it has created and the simple contentment it has shared. With you. Words are intimate beings. They are profound and enjoyable, and in that few seconds you find these things, they are only for you. They give when you give some time to it. So give time to words, and you will gain more than you'd have thought.


9:33 PM