If you walk away I'll walk away


first tell me which road you will take

I don't want to risk our paths crossing someday

so you walk that way I'll walk this way



and the future hangs over our heads

and it moves with each current event

until it falls all around like a cold steady rain

just stay in when it's lookin' this way



and the moon's laying low in the sky

forcing everything metal to shine

and the sidewalk holds diamonds like a jewelry store case

they argue "walk this way," "no walk this way"



and Laura's asleep in my bed

as I'm leaving she wakes up and says

"I dreamed you were carried away on the crest of a wave

baby don't go away, come here"



and there's kids playing guns in the street

and one's pointing his tree branch at me

So I put my hands up I say:

"Enough is enough,

If you walk away I'll walk away."

(and he shot me dead)



I found a liquid cure

for my landlocked blues

it will pass away

like a slow parade

it's leaving but I don't know how soon



and the world's got me dizzy again

you'd think after 22 years I'd be used to the spin

and it only feels worse when I stay in one place

so I'm always pacing around or walking away

I keep drinking the ink from my pen

and I'm balancing history books up on my head

but it all boils down to one quotable phrase

"If you love something give it away"

A good woman will pick you apart

a box full of suggestions for your possible heart

But you may be offended, and you may be afraid

but don't walk away, don't walk away



We made love on the living room floor

with the noise in the background from a televised war

And in the deafening pleasure I thought I heard someone say

"If we walk away, they’ll walk away"

But greed is a bottomless pit

And our freedom's a joke we're just taking a piss

And the whole world must watch the sad comic display

If you're still free start runnin' away

'cause we're comin' for ya!



I've grown tired of holding this pose

I feel more like a stranger each time I come home

So I'm making a deal with the devils of fame

Sayin' let me walk away, please

You'll be free child once you have died

from the shackles of language and measurable time

And then we can trade places, play musical graves

till then walk away walk away walk away walk away

So I'm up at dawn, putting on my shoes

I just want to make a clean escape

I'm leaving but I don't know where to

I know I'm leaving but I don't know where to

got super depressed last night. drowned in rain. then, just like that, made a ton of art and feel better.



my art.

When I was a girl,


I used to think that behind every door

Their lay two possibilities,

And depending on the exact second I turned the handle,

The precise moment I twisted the knob,

each minuet detail would align

deciding which reality I would open the door into.

I would sit in my room,

Pre-occupied with youth,

But always watching that door through the corner of my eye,

Waiting for the eventuality of someone bursting through it

carrying their life and their reality, their individual complexity, with them.

I would marvel, my eyes flecked with the sheer wonder

Of such spectacular power,

And be caught in these moments of reverence,

Where I would submit to my lack of control,

And pledge, my faith adamantine.

Sometimes it would get in the way of my going-ons,

As this asphyxiating anxiety would cause me to stand, motionless,

Behind that inanimate frame of wood for hours on end,

Worried that the current of life I drifted on through the door,

Would not be the right one.

Albeit, this turned out to be one of those phases

That plague the fantastical minds of a child,

And as I grew older and dismissed many of the frivolities of youth,

So I dismissed this notion as well.

But I could not escape it,

As it lay inside of me as a dormant, but malignant thought,

And it eventually manifested itself into an evolved

Fascination with spontaneity.

I slipped cautiously through life,

Always aware of the significance of that door,

And how it could change,

It could pervert,

Everything.

One day I met a man,

Who skin stretched across his face like a lazy alabaster reminder,

And he took my hands,

And together we traced the lines of his skin.

I noticed the quantum effluence of his geography,

And the collective

Other times I notice the authority of his voice,

As if inside his mind there is a door,

And behind is lays a vast expanse of water,

Perfectly still in its rationality.

Sometimes I hold discourse with myself

To gauge the inequity of my

Thoughts, and I often arrive at the same conclusion:

That in his expanse of still rationality

I am the undercurrent masked by layers of opaque convenience,

because I find it impossible to stop moving,

Because there are always things that I am running from,

And there are more things that I am running to.

And sometimes I tell him, that I think

That people, apologize, too much, for their sadness,

And that I don’t believe in make-up,

Because I think every person should wear

Their sorrows like thick black eyeliner.

I'm in this sort of weird mood where
I'm sort of balanced
but also sort of numb and could burst into fervent tears at any moment.

do you want to know one of the most painful things I have ever experienced?
being told me someone that you truly care about and feel a very deep, powerful connection with, that they feel like they haven't been able to connect with anyone.

Emma

I remember what he tastes like. I don't know if I am capable of erasing that.

I'm sick, and we all know what that means.
Maybe not.
Well, I typically get sick every six months, am bed-ridden, and sink into sadness.
It's terrifying.
The apprehension and fright of alienation breaks my heart.
Plus I had plans last night tonight and tommorow, and am having to cancel them.
That pains me.
Socially, I'm not sure what it will take for me to be secure in my friendships, longeivity, I suppose.

Eric est mon amour.

My pal Kate.

Bring me sunflowers and bring me a landscape of clouds, and rain.

On top of all that, I mean, as insane as this may sound, that is only an infintessimalblink right now, because, although it does come to mind, I'm dealing with the reprecussions of something I did this weekend and it's really causing me a considerable amount of pain.
It was something that, at the same, was physically and emotionally gratifying,but in hindsight, mind not be worth this emptiness I am now feeling.
I've never been the type of person to hook up with someone that Iam not in a relationship with. I do assign emotion to a lot of my actions, physically, and I am very touchy with my friends because there is a certain fufilment and feeling of re-assurance in a hug, or being held, but when it's on a sexual level it penetrates to this deep and vulnerable level which,,, strikes at the core, you know? [that was not a pun. I swear. oh gosh. Kimisha where are you] I know this sounds cliche, but I find it hard to commit myself to an act, and remain detached from it. Invest nothing in it. It could be worse, I'm sure if I had feelings for the person I would be waaaay worse off, but at this point I'm really questioning how I feel about everything.
I do tend to assume feelings when I meet and connect to people of the opposite sex, at least until I have discerned whether or not said person and I will get together or be anything, and there are a lot of new men in my life so my brain is overwhelmed. It really is. I've thought for a long time that I know what I want: a relationship. One that will last for a while, in which I will open myself up and fall in love with someone and have it mean a lot. I stil want that, butI feel like my actions this weekend are not indicitive of that at all, and are not productive in my search for a significant other. I feel like maybe I'm having some sort of identity crisis. I'm straddling this gap between dependance andindependance and most of my friends are way past that and don't understand this crucial, crux I am in right now. gsdgsdgs.
Back to Saturday, I just. I instigated it to some degree. In all fairness, he propisitioned me earlier in the night but I think that is just in his nature, I'm not sure if I am special in any way, but I defintely kissed him, almost out of the blue, and proceeded to lie in bed and disclose my sexual history to him. I think me revealing how much of a virgin I am really suprised him, and it sparked a long conversation about the difference between sex and making love, sex and fucking, and so on. We were going to go to bed, I think, I mean I was completley sober but I didn't really end up sleeping so I was drunk with sleep, and then we kissed goodnight, and got distracted for a while.
I feel empty. I wish I knew him better so I could be honest and call him up and see how he feels. I mean I know he does stuff like this all the time, but he knew it bore some significance to me and I think that made it a tad more meaningful?
I don't know. ah. fg jjjjjjje ne sais pas.

There are so many ironies in the world. Some of the most sensitive people I know are capable of being the most insensitive, and I feel like I am experiencing the full brute force of that right now.
When I befriend people and feel a really great connection with them I do invest a lot in them, and become quite attached to said person, and it really hurts, an inexplicable amount, when you trust, and truly care, for someone, and are constantly reminded of the fact that either a) they don't feel the same way or b) just take you for grantedto a ludicrous degree. I listen to him, and try to help him in all these situations, and he laments about wanting to find a connection , one which I legitametely thought we had. asdasd.
I don't know what to think. I mean, rationality doesn't even come into this, just, compassion.
My heart hurts.
And me being confrontational about this will only cause pain and not be productive, so I have to internalize it.
://////////////////////////////////////

I feel like a snaggle-toothed prophet
whose flayed skin
rests on my body
like that of a striped hipster.

story of my life. lol sufjan.

It's been a long, long time since I've memorized your face


It's been four hours now since I've wandered through your place

And when I sleep on your couch I feel very safe

And when you bring the blankets I cover up my face

I do love you

I do love you



And when you play guitar I listen to the strings buzz

The metal vibrates underneath your fingers

And when you crochet I feel mesmerized and proud

And I would say I love you, but saying it out loud is hard

So I won't say it at all

And I won't stay very long

But you are the life I needed all along

I think of you as my brother

Although that sounds dumb

Words are futile devices

hey tash what have you been doing for the last seven hours? this.

We live in a westernized society where power has become the means to validation; this is reflected in our capitalistic and consumerist culture, and additionally in many of our past and contemporary philosophies. One philosophical conundrum for those who like to think of themselves as in control of their lives, actions and behaviour, is that of free will. Philosophers C.A. Campbell and Robert Blatchford are two men with different idea’s regarding Determinism, or “free will”, and my idea’s also differ significantly from theirs, as will be illustrated in this essay; I will analyze the various philosophies in respect to moral responsibility, free will, and determinism, and will hopefully elucidate upon the variance of each philosopher’s perspective.

Before I delve into the minuet details of each philosopher’s respective opinions, I would first like to put forth three definitions of free will, and what they mean contextually. To a Hard Determinist like Blatchford, free will would be having a will that could override one’s heredity, or temperament, and one’s environment, or training, which - as a determinist and believer in the hierarchal scheme in which heredity and environment are at the top and ruling man, who is below it, who in turn rules his or her own will – would be impossible. To a Libertarian like Campbell, free will is only applicable to a situation if one is the sole author of the act, and if there is a real sense that one could have acted otherwise . Where Blatchford sees heredity and environment, or moral responsibility, as the sole force behind acts and subsequently, free will, Campbell sees freedom as a precondition of moral responsibility. As an indeterminist, my perception of free will is more exclusive to the individuals’ self-interest regarding their decisions, as I will illustrate farther in the essay. The recurring theme that the three of us share is that we all recognize the prevalence of moral responsibility in regards to how free our actions truly are, but Blatchford’s unflinching and adamant perspective regarding what he calls the “delusion” of free will is what sets him apart from Campbell and I.

Robert Blatchford is a Hard Determinist . He presents his argument in a way which leaves little room for objection, as is exemplified through the absolution of his words when discussing what he believes to be the non-existence of free will. The foundations of Blatchford’s philosophy are grounded in the two pillars of the aforementioned ‘heredity’ and ‘environment’, both which he see’s to be proof that, not only is free will a delusion, but we are all Determinists. Although the insistence and unflinching conviction behind his words may portray him as ignorant to some, Blatchford manages to cover many objections to his argument, and in doing so, solidifies the premise of his philosophy regarding free will, or the lack thereof.

We’ll start with the matter of what Heredity and Environment are, and why they play such a pivotal role in the formation of Blatchford’s’ argument. Blatchford presents the words ‘Heredity’ and ‘Temperament’ as interchangeable, as that which rules ones’ nature , the way in which one behaves, and those very intrinsic characteristics that, he argues, are impossible to remove from any choice or action. One example of the prominence of Heredity would be in a situation where a man has recently been broken up with by a girlfriend who has previously broken up with him three or four times: each time she had broken up with him and eventually decided she wanted to be with him again, and he always agreed, despite any feelings he may have had of anger towards her, and despite the fact that he may have sworn that he would not get back together with her. Despite his better judgement, or any pain she caused him, it is in this man’s nature and his bare personality to get back together with his ex-girlfriend; although it is the fourth time she left him, and he swore he wouldn’t get back together with her, his Heredity will overrule any other feelings and he will get back together with her.

According to Blatchford the same feeling of helplessness is applicable in a situation regarding ‘environment’ or ‘training’, which are also two synonymous words that refer to one’s exposure and upbringing, more of the physical seeping one’s “will” as opposed to the more intro-centric heredity. Environment is prevalent in most people’s childhoods, as they are drilled with moral responsibility and very strict ideas of what is the societal norm regarding right and wrong, which will carry through and have a profound effect on how they act later in life, making them more predictable or ‘determined’, but more importantly, it is the unspoken rules that one is raised with and the actions of those around them that manifest are translated into this “environment” which will play a large role in dictating how one chooses to act. It is because of that Environment and Heredity that Blatchford finds the will impossible as he sees them omnipresent and undeniable.

Now that Heredity and Environment have been more clarified, it’s important to discern how Blatchford uses them as a crutch for his argument, and consequently, for ‘disproving’ free will. Blatchford poses a few questions to himself, from the perspective of what he believes to be an indeterminist who is trying to contradict determinism: can’t man make choices? Can one not be conscious that they are acting how they wish to act? How does man chose between two acts, or do something that they do not want to do? What is happening when one is hesitating while performing an act? Blatchford’s answer for each question is essentially the same: Heredity and Environment. He replies that yes, man makes choices, but Heredity and Environment are that which cause him to choose and make his decision. They also are that behind what man “wishes”, and they settle the decision between two courses of action, and “hesitation” is merely a conflict of Heredity and Environment. With this argument that is almost circular, Blatchford adopts a mentality that cannot be disproved but cannot be proved either; Blatchford states that anyone denying his theory is denying “the commonest and most obvious facts of life”.

Despite the arrogance with which Blatchford presents his philosophy, his ultimate and penultimate points are those which cement it as a very legitimate argument. His premise is as follows: we can predict the actions of people in certain situations, and for that reason alone they must not be able to do other than what they do, therefore, they could not have done otherwise. Although Blatchford does not leave room for situations in which one is unpredictable or is random, he does take that syllogism one step farther by suggesting that there is nothing inherently different between the aforementioned “people” and everyone else in the world, so he reasons that all people could not do otherwise than they do . He goes on to impose the notion that – not only is he completely correct in his assertions – everyone is actually a Determinist. He backs up that accusation with an example: he says that parents tend to control and shelter their children, and that doing that only makes sense if one believes that such things will have a causal affect on their child, and that this means that people believe that their children, and the subsequent adults they become, are causally determined by past events . Blatchford not only re-enforces his claim with widely acknowledged and accepted information, but by additionally sticking his opinion on others and calling it theirs, as well as his.

In the same way that Blatchford depends upon Heredity and Environment to cement his ideas in his reader’s mind, Campbell also implements two basic idea’s as the centrefold of his philosophy regarding free will. Campbell clarifies his ideas in a way that not only simplifies them, therefore making them more universal and less daunting, but also representing the other side of his argument in a way that Blatchford does not. Campbell explains that moral freedom must pertain to inner acts, as overt acts are controlled by a plethora of factors that we cannot accurately gauge. He also addresses the idea of moral responsibility as problematic, but laments that we must decipher free will in its traditional, ethical sense , before we tackle that issue. Campbell goes completely against Blatchford’s opinion that “we are all determinists”, saying that mankind is “inescapably convinced” that we have free will, and that it is specified, pertaining to man having the freedom to decided whether or not to exert or withhold the moral effort needed to rise to duty where the pressure of its desiring nature is felt to urge it in a contrary direction . Even Blatchford would have to agree that this argument makes sense primarily because man is enamoured with power and a feeling of control and that is precisely what having free will and being able to exercise it, would be.

Campbell has two key concepts that are integral in the piecing together of his argument, the first being that in order to be partaking in a free act, one must be the sole author of said act . Although the words “sole author” may seem relatively straightforward, sole does not necessarily mean alone; there may not be any other determinist of the act, external to the self, as the act would no longer be self-determined and the author would become a partial author . If one is a part-author then they are only responsible for that which they do solely, and then the amount of free will being executed has diminished significantly.

Blatchford would immediately object to Campbell’s reasoning, as Blatchford would see the notion of being a “sole author” to be impossible, as Heredity and Environment would not leave room for a sole author in any experience. As for the concept of a “part-author”, Blatchford would find that to be like admitting defeat to one’s own argument, as they are only “partly” executing free will. He might admire Campbell’s respect for the fact that Campbell doesn’t think free will is available to be used in any situation, and that there are definitely times when one cannot act freely. Conversely, Campbell might endorse Blatchford’s thoughts regarding the absence of free will in situations, but not to the zealous degree that Blatchford takes it to, as Campbell believes that people think that they are in possession of free will, regardless of whether or not they truly are, which is cause in itself to think it exists to some point, however small that point may be.

Campbell’s second key point in his debate is pertaining to an act of which one is the sole author, and where there must be a real sense that one could have acted otherwise . Despite the blatancy of its message, Campbell added two subsections to this concept: it is not good enough to say that one could have acted otherwise had they chosen otherwise, as this is a fragile feeling of freedom, and simple to achieve if there is no compulsion involved; he also states that it is not good enough to say that one could have acted otherwise if one was in a different situation or had a different constitutional make-up . Campbell elucidates that the latter statement is weak because everyone is free in that sense, and that he is concerned with the specifics.

As a Hard Determinist, Blatchford would dismiss the “sense” of being able to do otherwise as a fallacy, and explain that no one could do otherwise regardless of whether or not they sense that they could. Campbell agrees with Blatchford in the sense that he thinks that there isn’t a whole lot for free will to do, but that free will is an issue when one’s duty and desire are in conflict; this notion is aligned with Libertarian theory, as moral responsibility arises when one must resolve a conflict between duty and desire.

Having exhausted the arguments between the Determinist and Libertarian, it is not my turn to spin my opinion of indeterminism into the mix. I think that free will is that which one exercises when making a decision, choice, and so on, as internally and subjectively to themselves as they possibly can, so that what they are doing is in accordance with what they truly want. I think that Blatchford is foolish and narrow-minded in his argument, as he states that outside influence takes away control from that person, and therefore means that they do not have free will on the matter. If someone went and lived, completely isolated, somewhere on a mountain, their decisions and thoughts would constantly be influence by that around them: weather, behavioural patterns of animals, ultimately anything that would cross their path, and this influence would not make them a part-author, it would just have a very small, finite effect on them, which would attach itself to the amorphous conglomeration of that which is human character and consciousness, and help the person make their decision. It would still be their decision, but – as it is impossible to live an objective life without influence, and because there is definitely such thing as free will – they would be deciding based on what they absorbed from others, and how it translated into their own opinion. This ‘influence’ is exaggerated to a very severe extent in the bright and flashy contemporary culture of the western world, which is incredibly media-centric, but unless there are physical forces compulsing one to do something, or restraining one from doing something, the one has the will to decide where or not they will do x or y.

I am an indeterminist because I think that people are capable of making completely un-predictable decisions on impulse, and that people can be forced to do that which we may not want to do, but that there is always room for another choice. Moral responsibility and societal values do hinder people’s actions to some extent, but there are millions of people who act against said moral restrictions, and are penalized for disobeying cultural etiquette, contextually. Additionally, the Heredity and Environment which Blatchford so ruthlessly promotes are real influences that do impact one’s decision making process, but so are millions of other miniscule things that people are confronted with every single day that they absorb, and which subsequently shape their character.

The search for an answer regarding free will may seem fruitless, but all it takes is a moment, a pause, and the consideration of any action one may have done or is doing, to realize that we are so full of conviction in every action we make, and so passionate and invested in all our decisions, that – regardless of whether or not we are the true authors of our actions – we must have free will; because I can choose to stop typing right now and you can choose to stop reading this; because we feel that we can do whatever we choose, regardless of the consequences. We are balls of clay, composed from billions of fragments, each one containing a fleck of our personage, that which shapes us, and consequently makes us choose what we do. Blatchford and Campbell both understood this to the extent that they saw it as something which controlled us, constrained and confined us, but I see it as liberating. We aren’t original, in the sense that not every notion that crosses our mind will be objective and removed from the media, or our family or peer groups, but we are original in the sense that we are a unique combination, we are influenced by a completely individual set of Heredity’s and Environment’s, and they will forever help us in our choices. We are free; we are balls of clay.

these are not mine.

I reallylove conversations. Like, I know most people just think of them as like, talking or whatever, for a while, but I think that as anti-social and introverted as I try to convince myself that I am, there is something about talking and tapping into another human being for an extended amount of time that really appeals to me.
I just passed two hours like THAT.

this Jesus guy is sort of, apt.

on the floor of my bedroom, bathed in the blue glow of my computer screen.
wednesdays always catch me up in their centred/un-centred mentality.

Seaweed from Tell No One on Vimeo.

yesterday I was incredibly selfish.
man oh man.
basically I revelled in my own problems as opposed to trying to look past them for the benefit of others.
I had a breakdown as well.
it was nuts.
andd i ran into the rain.
and the rain was cold
and I was cold
and it was quiet
and my mind was loud
but the noisy silence
calmed me.

today was good, yesterday was bad. and so it goes.
people float in and float out.
so do idea's, thoughts, moments,
they move with the wind,
a beautiful fluidity,
that as I accept,
becomes more predictable in nature.

(When I reach the pearly gates, this'll be on my videotape)

THAT CAT WAS MAD INTROSPECTIVE.

I used to sleep at night

Before the flashing light settled deep in my brain



I'm tired. I don't think I've got a good nights sleep in a while, and to that matter, a good nights worth of sleep in the past week.
Yet, despite that, despite the fact that my chest has some angry man living inside it that spews up mucus and is coughing a lot, I am in a really good place.
I feel like when I entered college I had all these expectations about people, and men, and life, and relationships and friendships that I thought would be fufilled quite quickly, and when I didn't make many friends the first days, admittadly, I was down, but now things are sort of working out like I imagine them to and better.
I was dumb. That should really be my mantra. That I say BEFORE going into something so I don't have to do the whole hindsight reflection upon the true dumb-ness of it all. Anywho, I wanted to get into a relationship, and I sort of approached it like "it doesn't matter who it's with, as long as it's a person who i sort of like.. we can fall in love, and it can be malleable and maybe turn into something different."
Incidentally, that's not how it works. So the first guy who showed interest, and who, subsequently, I was interested in, it took me about two weeks to realize the lack of things in common/any general attraction on my behalf.
You would think that I learnt my lesson with him, but alas, I must make my mistakes twice, apparently.
I also started having feelings for someone who was a lot more like me, who I was/am attracted too, but who has faults that are important faults, not trivial one's, and which I tried to ignore. Unfortunately, theey are now too prevalent.
Through all that fumbling and mess, I met Jen. She's all ready fallen into the category of "one of the first people I would call", which for those who aren't of this generation, means that you rely/trust/like them a lot.
Jen is a wonderful representation of a solid individual with a good sense of self, and she's helping me come into my own in those terms.
I also met Kate. She's really nice, lives on the drive, is a bit of a hipster.
I mean there are many acquantinces as well, but there's also Kimisha, a hilarious guy in my french class,
and pretty much as of yesterday, I've become good friends with Greg. I'm not sure what constitutes a good friend. I mean, is it longevity? Is it more of a feeling of trust? How well you get along?
I mean I have two for three with him, and ended up sort of acidentally/not really accidentally because I don't mind being open, told him all these crazy things about my life and ended up having this crazy emotional verbal vomit that left me feeling... weak.. but it was also nice. It's something that came very naturally, it wasn't be forcing it in order to become friends, it was more, I am comfertable with saying this in x situation and will therefore say it.
The point of this rant, which is probably too personal for the internet, but fuck that, is that I am good, merci, et toi?
I mean, I feel the sadness sometimes, it hovers on the periphary, it comes about when I'm sick or alone, but the point is that there are these amazing people coming into my life who are older, and more mature, and real people, and they're helping this whole growing process accelerate. And I don't feel the growing pains, the negative reprecussions are yet to reveal themselves to me.
I have english in seven minutes, and I have to pee, so I must go. But this was fun. Lets do this again sometime?

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=129198985

Every night I tell myself, I am the Cosmos.

Eulogy
by PAUL GUEST

So that this will seem like words between
old friends, I'll say it was painless.
And quick. I'll say it was mercy
and behind my face where I put
things like The Truth and dreams about
supernovae, I'll try to mean it.
But it was his time, we should all admit.
Shouldn't we, who loved him
the way we love traffic
and cell phones during spectacular sex
and the degradations of puberty,
shouldn't we all feel
as though light were swelling within us,
inflaming us? Tell me where
you were when you heard
but tell me later, much later,
the kind of later mathematicians get excited about.
By then memory will have torn
away from my body like a scab
I'll no longer have to pick at
and I'll listen to you like a stethoscope.
It will be good for my heart.
It will be good for your heart.
In the air of that deferred spring
we'll be healthy, speaking
of an ancient wound neither of us
really remember, except
that by starlight we promised
to honor this question mark
in the periodic sentence of our lives.
Whatever you say, remember
that we cried. The dead love that we weep,
that we stain ourselves with
salt, that we become for a moment
indistinguishable from the sea,
that our shining faces rock with grief.

If I was young,

I'd flee this town.

There, there is a house

A wonderful lover

a beautiful mind.

Borderline.

Victoria.

Man you got a lot of jokes to tell.

Two of the most well written books ever.

I think my favourite musicians, continuously, are:
Win Butler, Conor Oberst, Sufjan Stevens, Victoria Legrand, Ben Bridwell, Sam Beam and Patrick Watson.
yeah, that's it.

My best picture of the night. Victoria Legrand, mon cherie.

I will take care of you (if you want me to)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JXbLyi5wgeg&feature=player_embedded#!

Aix en Provence

They heard me singing, and told me to stop.
Stop all pretentious things and just punch the clock.

Like Mountains beyond Mountains.

Sometimes I wonder if the world's so small.

"Meaningless! Meaningless!"

says the teacher.

"Everything is meaningless!"

-Ecclesiastes