waken

If

waken — Thu, 12 Jan 2012 08:15:19 +0000

Kipling’s one of those literary figures that follows you through life. A real man’s man’s poet.

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or, being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream – and not make dreams your master;
If you can think – and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with triumph and disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to broken,
And stoop and build ‘em up with wornout tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on”;

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings – nor lose the common touch;
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run –
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And – which is more – you’ll be a Man my son!

Happy New Year

waken — Sun, 08 Jan 2012 13:22:16 +0000

Neil Gaiman is one of the biggest inspirations in my life. He has a good soul, and somewhere deep inside his wonderfully depraved skull lies a profound understanding of what’s really Important. Case in point:

I believe this year will be a good year, by God’s grace. There comes a point, or points in your life where you go ‘enough of the fluff and the bullshit’ and actually start doing the things you’ve always wanted to do, start working towards the goals you always wanted to achieve. There’s a fine line between a resolution and a revolution and I think it’s time to cross that line. I mean the world’s ending anyway so why not we sit by the stars and watch this space.

Like Day And Night

waken — Sat, 10 Sep 2011 22:58:11 +0000

We were bound by common things like two moths drawn towards the same flame, circling each other in a dance that only you and I knew the steps to. A song that only the two of us knew the lyrics to. A place that only we could visit. Or so I thought.

I feel like I’ve been standing in the rain for way too long. My black hair is wet and matted, and water drips down my forehead, diluting the salty taste of lacrimation on my tongue. I feel like I’ve been standing in the rain for way too long, staring blankly at the shadow you cast in the pale moonlight as you walk away into the darkness, holding an umbrella for someone else. The sound of your footsteps drown out the pitter-patter of rain on gray asphalt, each step plunging another bullet into my heart.

I thought we shared something special, something sacred. I placed my dreams in a wooden box carefully two years ago and gave it to you and you opened it, flung its contents to the floor and filled the box with dust, afterthoughts and cheap, deformed imitations of memories only I could create.

You knew that this day would come. You knew that I’d find your collection of wooden boxes. And you knew, as you ran a finger slowly over each of them, taking in the intoxicating smell of oak, feeling the intricate carvings of one box beneath your skin while your eyes set themselves greedily on the next…

That you’d never look back.

And that this too shall pass.

You disappoint, my friend.

Burn The Remembrance

waken — Sun, 28 Aug 2011 19:55:35 +0000

I love this song because for the longest time I had no idea Katatonia had a sound that’s both intense and subtle at the same time. I’m listening to it now as the winds of Irene shake the trees mercilessly outside and the rain continues to fall incessantly, and I honestly can’t think of a better soundtrack to, ahem, weather a tropical storm to.

Disarm

waken — Tue, 23 Aug 2011 21:34:59 +0000

God I hope I’m right.

Scarlet (pt 1)

waken — Sun, 14 Aug 2011 19:19:27 +0000

I’m hardly what you’d call superstitious. Prone to erring on the side of caution, perhaps. Careful to a fault, well yes, at times…but flat out, full blown superstition? Never heard of it. Still there are some things that I believe you should never recount, for fear of consequence. Thoughts you do not seek out once they have buried themselves in the recesses of the mind. Memories that only a fool would revisit, pursue, dwell upon, and take out for dinner and polite but telling conversation.

And I’m the King of Fools.

I met her on the Subway back to my aunt’s apartment in Queens on a rainy night in August, where I was living temporarily, after a long afternoon of apartment searching in the city. I was due to start my sophomore year at NYU in less than a month, and my desire to get a place of my own was equivalent to the collective desire of the thousands of college girls milling about in the Village to consume their body weight in cheap alcohol the moment the sun goes down. I was thinking of a place I saw that day, a nice three bedroom flat on Waverly and Gay, and was wondering how many of said alcohol filled college girls would my flatmates and I actually see mill about the house in the months to come, when she caught my eye as I sat down across from her. It was pouring that night, an obnoxious, spiteful rain which pelted grumpy New Yorkers, making them grumpier, and I thought at first that my not too subtle wringing of sleeves had raised her ire, which would be terribly unfortunate because she was without doubt the prettiest thing that had ever stepped foot onto a cold, wet and grumpy R.

Now for all the wonderful and glorious accomplishments of the Male Gender, the Alpha Ones, the Dominant Species, the Dudes that will Inherit the Earth, we are without a doubt fundamentally flawed. And by fundamentally flawed I mean stubborn as fuck. It does not matter how many Adams, Romeos, Vronskys,Orpheuses or Marios have had their lives irrevocably changed by the introduction of a female into the equation. Men throughout time and space will throw history, caution and sanity to the wind, in that order, and be immediately drawn to the presence of a fetching female. It’s in our nature, it’s in our blood.

And thus it was my genetic wiring that made me look up, embarrassed and catch her eye . The edges of my cursed male mouth arched uncontrollably, and I smiled as charmingly as a bundle of nerves could smile. My heart pounded like a drum as she noticed, processed and reciprocated the gesture with her icy red lips, the ghosts of a million men dancing behind me, offering toasts to what we all thought was imminent victory…

(to be continued…)

Great Scott

waken — Mon, 08 Aug 2011 20:36:37 +0000

This is an excellent article. God bless Mr Adams, and boredom.

Yes! I Am Long Way From Home

waken — Sat, 06 Aug 2011 11:23:31 +0000

“If sound had a sound, it would sound like this.”

And Oh! Before I Go,

waken — Fri, 05 Aug 2011 03:01:55 +0000

I think we are peculiar people. I think we look pretty damn fine together. I also think it might even be destiny.

Do as you feel. xx

Glistening

waken — Fri, 05 Aug 2011 02:38:12 +0000

It’s 10pm and I know not of the scorching summer heat. I’m sitting at a table outside the Warren Weaver Hall which overlooks Mercer Street, and the orange lamp above me makes my laptop and I look far more important and meaningful than we’ll ever be. Street lights bathe the surrounding trees in warm light and the leaves rustle rhythmically in the wind. It’s disconcertingly comforting, and what I believe is the perfect setting to create perfect prose, if I were somebody else.

I’ve hurried past this little lovechild of street and park on many counts, neglecting its appearance and function as I tried to escape the cold or make it to a class that started five minutes before. But now that time has slowed down, I think it’s high time to pay homage to this little spot in the city where I can sit at, grab a bite and fade into the scenery.

Honestly I’m still coming to grasps that this is happening. That I’m finally back in the city with things to do, people to meet and dreams to fulfill. I’m heading back to my aunt’s apartment in Queens right now, my role as an object of the East Village fulfilled. And right now I’m not sure what the next six months, or even tomorrow’s gonna bring, but I think it starts from here.

Somebody else really should have taken my place.