Life pulses...

Soooo, watching the blockhead vid reminded me of this gem that I actually have on my Ipod. If you haven't figured it out already, YES I actually loved Disney's Fantasia when I was little and never found it boring. I own Fantasia & Fantasia 2000. =)

Blockhead - The Music Scene

Dismembered colors and swirled beats present an unappetizing portrait of human nature.

Epic

see ARTIST'S PAGE, "Portrait of a Dying Atheist"

Hmm. It really depends on your point of view...but wherever I'm standing, damn, it looks cool. And it always means something new.

Selling Out, Pt 2

I am so selfish with your love, I can't risk fucking up.

Losing the slightest bit would hurt too much.

I am so empathetic toward you.

I comfort your afflictions.

That doubt, that insecurity--

it's piling up inside of me.

I pull at your knots so my own heart strings can breathe.

Selling Out, Pt 1

"How much is your integrity worth?" My mother taught by example and a few well-chosen words I assumed someone else passed down to her. Her lessons always stuck.

But a mother's lessons are much better than life's lessons. Those stick too, but they also suck.

I wish we thought of our parents during those times of intoxication and anticipation; all beating heart and flushed cheeks and lips parted, waiting. Just waiting.

OK, maybe not. No one, unless that person has got one of the weirdest skeletons hanging in his or her closet, wants one's parents (or significant other or dear friends) to come to mind the moment he or she thinks dirty thoughts.

Dirty, selfish, secret things. Stolen things. Stolen candy. Stolen kisses. Stolen recognition. I'd be lying if I said I never thought of these things. Yet I've always been so good at recognizing how bitter one person's sweet sin can taste to another.

Anticipation with all its pent up anxiety makes the realization, the release of a flood of conflicting emotions, so incredibly breathtaking. But when your heart slows down, when your veins retreat deeper under your skin, when that full-body pulse that smothered the sound of red flags and sirens stops its pounding...shit, that's an awful feeling. When you've been so drained, so emptied, every stray thought rings so clearly across the cavity.

And sings.

Guilt makes us remember its tune, and our mind hums it, unrelenting, like a Lady Gaga hook.