Tag Archives: soulmates

Body electric

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Body electric

Ok, Ok… so I have almost gotten Lana Del Rey out of my system BUT! I wasn’t able to get an entire album onto one disc, so I have only been listening to the one. Today I decided to listen to the other one with a measly 4 songs on it and lo and behold; she has a song called Body Electric which is a throw back to my favorite Whitman poem

OMG I love her fucking face.

She is one of my soul mates I am sure of it now.

xoxo

Jani

The trouble with me

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The trouble with me

The trouble with me

is that I am always hopeful.

Every time I am proven wrong

I look disappointment in the eye

and say “Next time!”

Next time will be better,

Next time will be perfect,

Next time I’ll know better,

Next time it will work.

I always have it figured out,

before next time arrives.

I do the work.

I work on me.

I know what went wrong.

I know what signs to watch for.

My eyes are open…

open wider than my heart…

And then I remember,

if only in dreams,

How it feels,

What I want,

What I need,

What I can provide…

And suddenly,

I am in love.

In love with the idea…

In love with the potential…

In love with the way you make me feel.

In loving you I love myself.

I see you

Through a looking glass, darkly…

That’s the trouble with me.

And still

And always

I thank you for that.

Carolina….on my mind…..

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Carolina….on my mind…..

I watched the Notebook today. I know, I know…it’s a terrible movie to watch at certain times in one’s life. But alas, I needed to cry for totally unrelated to my world reasons 🙂 Gawd the scene when Allie remembers who she and Noah are….then she has to be tranquilized? Makes me practically inconsolable. It’s great and cathartic.

I digressed from my original thoughts…

Carolinas. North Carolina in particular calls to me. Always has…from the moment that Dawson Creek went on the air right through the Notebook and every other sappy ass Nora Roberts or Nicolas Sparks book….all the way to Shooter Jennings…I have a couple peoples there….One is a great love from another lifetime, the other my favorite little sprite. I google the houses there a lot, there are such pretty houses there…the south in and of itself holds some sort of calling and mystery to me…I dream of it…the jasmine and the humidity…the cool mountains and the coast….the creeks *wink*

I am going to go there someday.

Sigh. Dawson’s Creek. Now there was a craptastic television drama if I ever saw one. To this day I will watch it, even though I know how each episode is going to start and end. The dialogue was amazing, although totally unrealistic developmentally for the characters. And that theme song! Totally stuck in my head lately. Whatever happened to Paula Cole? She was fantastic…

I always used to wish that I was somebody’s Joey…Joey Potter…

Cause I had a Dawson you know.

Alternatively, I also had a Pacey.

And Pacey bought Joey a WALL, a goddamn romantic WALL.

Funny thing is, most people in my world can guess who my Dawson was…but Joey didn’t end up with Dawson, oh no.

Joey ended up with Pacey Witter.

Ergo, Joey ended up with Peter Bishop.

Joey was a smart, smart girl.

Huzzah!

Missing a Ghost

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Missing a Ghost

I think on some level Adam Duritz and I are bipolar soulmates. His lyrics have spoken to me throughout the years in unexpected and evolving ways. Since I was 13 years old, I have experienced my life through August and Everything After to Underwater Sunshine.

Today, I am “raining in baltimore.”

This circus is falling down on it’s knees
The big top is crumbling down
It’s raining in Baltimore fifty miles east
Where you should be, no one’s around
I need a phone call
I need a raincoat
I need a big love
I need a phone call
These train conversations are passing me by
And I don’t have nothing to say
You get what you pay for
But I just had no intention of living this way
I need a phone call
I need a plane ride
I need a sunburn
I need a raincoat
And I get no answers
And I don’t get no change
It’s raining in Baltimore, baby
But everything else is the same
There’s things I remember and things I forget
I miss you I guess that I should
Three thousand five hundred miles away
But what would you change if you could?
I need a phone call maybe I should buy a new car
I can always hear a freight train Baby, if I listen real hard
And I wish, I wish it was a small world
Because I’m lonely for the big towns
I’d like to hear a little guitar
I guess it’s time to put the top down
I need a phone call
I need a raincoat
I really need a raincoat
I really really need a rain coat
I really really really need a rain coat
I really need a raincoat

Mens et manus

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Mens et manus

I was thinking, a little nostalgically I suppose today about people I have loved. And the oddest thing occurred to me, something I have briefly pondered before but really examined today: I remember hands.

Some people remember a lover’s eyes, lips, hair, voice, whatever.

Poets write of lips and hips.

“Eyes are the windows to the soul….”

Not for me. I had to really try to think of some people’s eye colors who I should just KNOW but their hands? I can instantly picture them:

How they looked.

How they felt.

If they had callouses or not, and where.

The shape of their nails.

Length of their nails.

Size of their hands.

Whether they chewed their nails or not.

Scars on their hands.

Tattoos on their hands.

Rings that they wore.

Whether their palms were smooth or always wrinkled.

How they held a cigarette.

How they played a guitar.

How they held onto a steering wheel or a gear shift.

Whether they were right-handed or left.

Just a casual thought that makes me smile, I wanted to share.

 

Of course, her hair is red now.

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Of course, her hair is red now.

I find it interesting that every significant passage of my life is marked by the release of a Fiona Apple album.

This came out recently on NPR:

http://m.npr.org/story/154422085?url=/2012/06/10/154422085/first-listen-fiona-apple-the-idler-wheel

Here is a video of the first single (of course it is.) *note the snails, people who know me*

Here are the lyrics of “Every single night”:

Every single night I endure the flight
Of little whims of white flame
Butterflies in my brain
These ideas of mine percolate the mind
Trickle down the spine
Form the belly swelling to a blaze

That’s where the pain comes in
Like a second skeleton
Trying to fit beneath the skin
I can’t get the feelings in

Every single nights a light
With my brain

And I say to her
Why’d I say it to her
What does she think of me
That I’m not what I ought to be
That I’m what I try not to be
Has got to be somebody else’s fault
I can’t get caught

If what I am is what I am
Cuz I does what I does
Then brother get back cuz my breast gonna bust open
The rib is the shell and the heart is the yolk
And I just made a meal for us both to choke on

Every single nights a fight
With my brain

I just wanna feel everything x3

So I’m gonna try to be still now
Gonna renounce the mill a little while
And if we had a double king size bed
We could move in it and I’d soon forget

If what I am is what I am
Cuz I does what I does
And maybe I’d relax let my breast just bust open
My hearts made of parts of all that’s around me
And that’s why the devil just can’t get around me

Every single nights alright
Every single nights a fight
Every single fights alright
With my brain

I just wanna feel everything…

I could have effing wrote them. Move over Florence Welch. Fiona’s back. With red hair.

Do you ever….

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Do you ever….
  • Feel so overwhelmed with everything that you are so frozen you can’t do anything?
  • Think through every possible outcome of any possible scenario to try and weigh your options until you are so panicked at the thought you can’t make a decision anyway?
  • Metaphorically shoot yourself in the foot?
  • Take on more than you can handle?
  • Decide to create boundaries after they are crossed?
  • Lay in the fetal position in the bottom right hand corner of your bed sobbing uncontrollably about nothing in particular?
  • Fantasize about running away and being a criminal?
  • Lock yourself in a place and toss the key out the window?
  • Wait until the last minute to do everything?
  • Start 984,753,024,875,034,785,034 different things and never finish any of them?
If you do 9/10 of these like I do, we may in fact be soul mates. It’s nice to meet you, other me.