the word

sarcasm means "to tear flesh"

sometimes i cant escape my own world

and sometimes all of my problems seem so small

Look again at that dot. That’s here. That’s home. That’s us. On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every “superstar,” every “supreme leader,” every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there–on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam.

The Earth is a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena. Think of the rivers of blood spilled by all those generals and emperors so that, in glory and triumph, they could become the momentary masters of a fraction of a dot. Think of the endless cruelties visited by the inhabitants of one corner of this pixel on the scarcely distinguishable inhabitants of some other corner, how frequent their misunderstandings, how eager they are to kill one another, how fervent their hatreds.

Our posturings, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the Universe, are challenged by this point of pale light. Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark. In our obscurity, in all this vastness, there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves.

The Earth is the only world known so far to harbor life. There is nowhere else, at least in the near future, to which our species could migrate. Visit, yes. Settle, not yet. Like it or not, for the moment the Earth is where we make our stand.

It has been said that astronomy is a humbling and character-building experience. There is perhaps no better demonstration of the folly of human conceits than this distant image of our tiny world. To me, it underscores our responsibility to deal more kindly with one another, and to preserve and cherish the pale blue dot, the only home we’ve ever known.

– Carl Sagan, Pale Blue Dot, 1994

floating upon the surface for the birds

you want me?
well come on and break the door down
you want me?
fucking come on and break the door down
im ready, im ready
im ready

i like when songs have a swear word in them that you don't expect, it makes it seem more rewarding

an increasingly balkanized world so badly needs it

"The association between stress and heart disease appears so strong that Newsweek magazine dedicated nearly a whole issue to the topic in the fall of 2005 with a feature article by renowned cardiologist Dr. Dean Ornish, the first person to prove the reversal of plaque build-up in arteries. Ornish states that love, expressed through compassion, is often the missing component in people prone to heart disease."

Love is Real Medicine

People who survive a heart attack often describe it as a wake-up call. But for a 61 year old executive I met recently, it was much more than that. This man was in the midst of a divorce when he was stricken last spring, and he had fallen out of touch with friends and family members. The Executive’s doctor, unaware of the strife in his life, counseled him to change his diet, start exercising and quit smoking. He also prescribed drugs to lower cholesterol and blood pressure. It was sound advice, but in combing the medical literature, the patient discovered that he needed to do more. Studies suggested that his risk of dying within six months would be four times greater if he remained depressed and lonely. So he joined a support group and reordered his priorities, placing relationships at the top of the list instead of bottom. His health has improved steadily since then, and so has his outlook on life. In fact he now describes his heart attack as the best that ever happened to him. “yes, my arteries are more open”, he says. “but even more important, I am more open”.

Medicine today focuses primarily on drugs and surgery, genes and germs, microbes and molecules. Yet love and intimacy are at the root of what makes us sick and what makes us well. If a new medication had the same impact, failure to prescribe it would be malpractice. Connections with other people affect not only the quality of our lives but also our survival. Study after study find that people who feel lonely are many a times more likely to to get cardiovascular disease than those who have a strong sense of connection and community. I'm not aware of any other factor in medicine- not diet, not exercise, not genetics, not drugs, not surgery- that has a greater impact on our quality of life, incidence of illness and premature death.

In part, this is because people who are lonely are more likely to engage in self-destructive behaviors. Getting through the day becomes more important than living a long life when you have no one else to live for. As one patient told me, “ I have got 20 friends in this pack of cigarettes. They are always for me. You want to take away my 20 friends? What are you going to give me instead?” Other patients take refuge in food, alcohol or drugs: “When I feel lonely, I eat a lot of fat, it coats my nerves and numbs the pain”. But, loneliness is not just a barrier to fitness. Even when you eat right, exercise and avoid smoking, it increases your risk of early death.

Fortunately, love protects your heart in ways that we don’t completely understand. In one study at Yale, men and women who felt the most loved and supported had substantially less blockage in their coronary arteries. Similarly, researchers from Case Western Reserve University studied almost 10000 married men and found that those who answered “yes” to this simple question- “does your wife show you her love?”- had significantly less angina (chest pain). And when researchers at Duke surveyed men and women with heart disease, those who were single and lacked confidants were three times as likely to have died after five years. In all three studies, the protective effects of love were independent of other risk factors.

Awareness is the first step in healing. When we understand the connection between how we live and how long we live, it’s easier to make different choices. Instead of viewing the time we spend with friends and family as luxuries, we can see that these relationships are among the most powerful determinants of our well being and survival. We are hard-wired to help each other. Science is documenting the healing values of love, intimacy, community, compassion, forgiveness, altruism and service-values that are part of almost all spiritual traditions as well as many secular ones. Seen in this context, being unselfish maybe the most self-serving approach to life, for it helps free both the giver and recipient from suffering, disease and premature death. Rediscovering the wisdom of love and compassion may help us survive at a time when an increasingly balkanized world so badly needs it.

you got this python hollerin' for mercy

original version


infinitely better version

the lyrics to this song are kinda ridiculous, i think cocorosie makes it seem more meaningful

So for the moment while
We jamming at this party
You're wining hard on me
Pushing everything
Right back on top of me
Yeah-hey-ai
But if you think
You're gonna get away from me
You better change your mind
'Cause you're going home
You're going home with me tonight

So let me hold you
Come caress my body
You got me going crazy
Turn me on

Ooh yeah, let me jam you
I say wine all around me
'Cause you got me going crazy
Turn me on

One hand just on the ground
My Bumper cock is sky high
Wining hard on me
You got this python
Hollerin' for mercy
Yea-Hey-ai
And then I whisper in her ear
''Wine harder''
And then she said to me
''Boy just push that thing
Push it harder back on me''

So let me hold you
Come caress my body
You got me going crazy
Turn me on
Ooh yeah, let me jam you
I say wine all-all-all around me
'Cause you got me going crazy
Turn me on

i love covers of songs, or remixes
it makes you either appreciate the original that much more or it makes you fall in love with the same song all over again.
or in this case just a way better version

through the remixed looking glass

last halloween i was alice

let's exchange the experience

i am too much. i get distracted so easily. i get weighed down by things i should just forget about. i whine in my blog about it.
sometimes i wonder if i took some kind of medication
if id be different
if id be less passionate about certain things
or maybe my emotions would be more in check
and i could be motivated to finish the things i start

and then i just say whatever until i randomly think of this again

From behind my ear strands of fiber spindled down,
Formed by details constricting and coiling around,
Bound by the exhaustion of analysis,
Raw and rough to create calluses.
All these endless scenarios are tightly pulled together,
To distract me in every endeavor.
And I am wrapped by heavy curiosity,
Weighed by self-destructive ferocity.
Prisoner to the battles my mind has fought,
Tied to the tracks of my train of thought.

and so this isnt a completely depressing post...here is a video alex showed me that makes me laugh
i love the sound effects included

hermoso que puede ser el mundo

i am pretty sure nobody reads this. but its like a journal for me, and i guess its safer to put things on here rather than just my computer. i am running on about 3 1/2 hours of sleep. it is amazing and awful.

a few days ago this old woman came up to me and said "i love to see young people living their life." i wasnt doing anything particularily special, i was just sitting on a bench with my backpack.
i wonder what made her say that...?
"i love when old people randomly talk to me"

youtube only likes this with subtitles apparently. this reminds me that i used to be good at spanish. yo necesito dormir.

word.

i felt like this

In the morning I told you you had such pretty eyes
as I saw them peeking up and rising over blanket hills.
You said you felt so naked, and you were.
I felt so vulnerable, and I was.
The heart on my sleeve was bursting and crumpled
on the floor from the night before.
You held me so close, but on the drive home your voice let me go.
I wished all the fruits of our passion weren't so quickly sliced,
So soon and so rushed, smeared up against the sides,
All the seeds of thoughts splitting and making a mess in our heads,
but this might make the most beautiful blend of insecurities,
and all these splattered worries
may collect themselves and mix into
the sweetest taste.

in the closet

is where i hid my first boyfriend while my mom went to kiss me goodbye in the morning. one time she told me she actually needed something out of my closet, and i somehow distracted her to go to the kitchen. then i opened the closet door and told him with huge eyes to get the hell out of there and stuffed him in a suffocating position in my bed. i told her about all of this a few years later. she laughed and called me a "little devil", because my mom is cool.

Mom, I have never told you this before;
One absurdly early morning, a secret was concealed,
One who was naked and afraid to be revealed,
One who found shelter in my shell upon the shore.

Asleep in warm blankets and arms, he began to snore.
The comfort of intertwined skin and thread
Melted away the troubles in his head.
Teenagers in love, spending hours, and wanting more.

We were so young, but aware of your concern
for the time of growing bodies and minds
and the first crack in my heart,

but this comes with the desire to learn,
it beats faster for the one it finds
capable of loving and tearing apart.

one summer afternoon

my dad asked me carry the beer while he pushed my grandma in her wheelchair

The sun that day came slapping at our backs,
And to blind us with metallic glare.
It came to dampen spirits and shirts
And scorch the handle's of grandma's wheelchair.
With such conditions anger flirts,
And in its lust strikes temper's match.

This searing reminder brought father's thirst
And required a case of tall necked aid
But wheels could not roll with this in tow.
Of this responsibility I was afraid,
Because strong grip in hands was yet to grow
And young imagination can fear the worst.

I accepted this load quite hesitantly,
Little bones could not take this task,
And cardboard began to feel like enslavement.
I shattered your hopes in green glass,
Steaming ale profanities poured on pavement.
"A lovely day!" grandma said pleasantly.

eh?

i wanted to have this to post up the poems and other things ive written, but i just find myself rambling on here.
i feel like i should just delete this and forget about things.
things and their thingness.
id like to have all these beautiful and profound things to say
but
im all out of that right now.

thanks

i hadnt seen you for awhile. im sorry you had a bad day too. i felt mean and gross all day, and seeing you for just a moment cheered me up, so, thanks. i wish there were more people like you, that just tried to make the most of a bad situation.

waiting at my stop

i was sitting on a bench at the Fremont bart station today, arms full of laundry, and my purse full of diet soda that i smuggled from my parents house. while i was waiting to be picked up by my friend, this guy came and sat beside me. he asked if i had a boyfriend and i lied and gave him the response that would make him stop talking to me. but in my head i played out this whole other conversation with this completely random guy and he gave me his perspective on my life at the moment.


i didnt really want to come back to san jose today.