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"I'm feeling crossed, I take it inside. Burn up the pain, my thoughts are strange. Just like the things I used to love, just like the tree that fell, I heard it.
If art is still inside, I feel it."
- Cold, Bleed
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June 20th, 2008
Jazz + Whopper: Back on the Slow Track.Posted at 01:33 AM by popdelay.
Stuck in traffic, and he hates it - who doesn't? - on the slow lane, inching his way by quarter-minutes to the office, counting the songs playing on the radio, thinking that again, he's back on track: stuck, gun pointed at him, playing the edges - the middle, the gray, the average - thinking there's probably something more if he'd just give in and lose sight of that (those) trophy (dreams) - but what people think is more just doesn't cut it for him, for he's too much of a greedy bastard, never content and never stopping: he wanted this and that and more of what he already had and there's just no foreseeable end to his discontent that people thought he'd never be a happy man, but he doesn't need to have the world and more to be one, rather needing just the steps taken to win over the worldly things and everything else he wanted, all while moving along - slowly, surely, but "surely" isn't really his thing - with the bunch of people huddled together in this quest for a better life, but better isn't better when you realize it's a roundabout you're on, and that's exactly what it is when you allow yourself to be held by the throat by letting people push you around (it's real traffic, not a bump car ride); you realize that on one hand there's the It who's earning ten, twenty, a hundred or two times more than you do, when all It does is get more things to do for you, and that's just the thing with It; you don't know if It's stuck in a different roundabout with the same cars, only bigger, or if It's completely outside the circle and running It's own show, It's own traffic, It's own roundabout with a gas station It also owns, but he knows one thing: he's greedy, hungry, painfully wanting enough to stick it up to the Its of this world, knowing that he only has to circle a roundabout once to know it never ends, and as soon as he's learned the way around the one-way traffic that is the slow track, he'd best crash the car and crawl away from the wreck, find himself somewhere else to play (to drive and to live), and it's just what's he's about to do, though he doesn't know when, where, or how it's all going to transpire, that's just what's going to happen; tired of the slow track, his eyes are on the road for a different purpose - by the end of the 360, he'd know what that road's made of, and by the end of the ride, he'd know how to make himself his own road, and damn him if he builds another roundabout (at least for himself), because in the end, it's all about getting someplace else and not the starting point.
The race starts and the pedal hits the metal, and it's a one-way traffic to end in a disaster he never will admit to be the perpetrator of, knowing that he's not built for the slow track; he can't tell if it's going to be just another roundabout the next lap, but if he'd will it, it'd be an uphill road with a cliff up ahead, the finish line being just a car flight away.
Pop it. |
April 18th, 2008
Daily Shot: All Right.Posted at 02:54 PM by popdelay.
All right, already. I don't blame you, but that is what they are looking for, that is what they want. And this is what you want me to do. This is what is expected of me. That is what you should be after.
As much as I want to do it my way, the whole way, it really is not working. I have a few more tricks up my sleeve, and you can expect them on your desk by Monday.
I'm not giving up, but I have to give in to some sort of a compromise between the this and that of conforming to what we both are looking for.
And by the way, I had a discussion with a couple of friends the other night and I'm changing my answer to one of the questions brought up.
Logan. Because I don't see any other way than being the best at what I do.
Pop it. |
April 15th, 2008
Daily Shot: Expletives.Posted at 04:10 AM by popdelay.
Now I remember.
Thanks, hello, and goodbye. There were lessons learned, but these were quickly forgotten, like that first time I drove a car.
Like that first time FIFA 07 decided to stop running after 10 minutes into my season with Barca.
Like that last three times I got myself into the funk I let myself get carried away with.
Thanks, and goodbye. I needed only to remember, and just like those movie sequences, that is all I need - needed - you for. To help me remember, nothing else.
1 popped. |
March 25th, 2008
Daily Shot: On Lost Causes and New Beginnings.Posted at 01:03 AM by popdelay.
Stolen handhelds, cameras, and cellphones. Corrupted, unrecoverable data. Abandoned playoff hopes. Busted eardrums. Missing friends. Broken trust, broken promises, lost hopes.
Lost causes.
Bad endings and controlled continuities. We can ask what and why and how things fuck themselves up but the thing is that in the end, they just did. They could have been left without any other choice, they may have done it because it's the lesser evil, they may have done it out of selfishness or greed or helplessness, or in the rarest and end-of-the-line situations, they may have done it because that's the only way things could end.
New beginnings. Every breath is a new beginning. We can change for the better, we can self-destruct and gamble our lives until we lose everything. We are in control. There is no excuse. We should be responsible for every new beginning we undertake.
And you, you should learn how to deal with your new beginnings if you are to set things right. It's never too late for anything, but the climb is long and it's evident that you haven't started your trip just yet. Don't wait for the bad endings and unfavorable circumstances catch up to you before you act.
The time is now and you know it; your rock-bottom will never be the rock-bottom of your tomorrow until you stop digging and start moving the right way: up.
2 popped. |
January 18th, 2008
January 9th, 2008
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