Same place, same time
And I'm stuck here two years too long
Same place, the wrong time
It isn't right
Turning, turning out the door
And back to this
Leave it like it was before
And let me out
Must've been the end of the story
Giving it all, giving it all away
You're gonna wake up someone
Well study it all
The wings, the crowd, your face
You're gonna end up like one
Well, trouble at home
Travel the way you say
"The road don't like me"
Travel it all away
"The road's gonna end on me"
Man, they like me
Cause I'm a warrior, a warrior
Stand on my feet
Dance the warrior, the warrior
Where would I be?
I'd be a warrior, a warrior
Now the strangers have caught on
And they're riding in the backseat
The river's gonna wash all
Yeah the river it spoke to me
It told me I'm small
And I swallowed it down
If I make it all
I'm a make you want me
Like a warrior, a warrior
Dance the warrior, the warrior
“They were careless people, Tom and Daisy- they smashed up things and creatures and then retreated back into their money or their vast carelessness or whatever it was that kept them together, and let other people clean up the mess they had made.”
"...scarier is the prospect of not fitting in. Of not being understood. Of being alone. Of seeing your family group fall apart. Of having change come in and take away everything you know. Of loving so much... and not quite being loved the same way in return. ...every happy moment is bittersweet because you can be sure it will be offset by something hurtful or sad. And Max isn't just feeling the pain, he's inflicting it. In a dirt clod war he eggs on his teammates to keep pummeling a helpless and injured enemy just because they have the upper hand and they can. At the opening of the film Max is reduced to tears when his sister's big friends take a snowball fight too far and smash his snow fort; living with the Wild Things he does the same to someone more helpless than he was. Jonze doesn't comment on this, he doesn't go out of his way to draw parallels.
...This isn't a story that usually gets told in movies - films have a very specific set of outcasts and troubled kids, and well-meaning angry creative fuck-ups like Max and me and Spike Jonze and probably you aren't in that set - and it definitely never gets told from the point of view of the kid. " (chud.com)
"a film that often dazzles during its quietest moments, as when Max sets sail, and you intuit his pluck and will from the close-ups of him staring into the unknown. He looms large here, as we do inside our heads. But when the view abruptly shifts to an overhead shot, you see that the boat is simply a speck amid an overwhelming vastness. This is the human condition, in two eloquent images. " NYTimes
i could've loved you and how, if you'd just said the words, if geography wasn't a fickle bitch, if only if only because we could've lost our minds together. there are only a handful of movies that will make me tear up and somehow i can't watch them, can't enjoy something filmed beautifully without my thoughts tracing it back to S. they are: the diving bell and the butterfly, eternal sunshine of the spotless mind, lost in translation. the entirety of the Walkmen's "You and Me" album.
So far the promised G20 protests have been a bust, in Oakland atleast. Lawrenceville/Bloomfield featued some truly exceptional idiots who decided to throw bottles at cops and roll dumpsters towards them. Not amused, the cops fired tear gas back. The march didn't have a permit, so what'd they expect? We'll see what occurs tomorrow.
Waiting to hear back about my job. Thoroughly enjoying my ha&a class- am undertaking a hugely difficult provenance project related to a 1640 Simon Vouet piece, a minor work by a minor artist. All the original sources are unavailable and in archaic French. I suppose I'll be brushing up on the passe simple. Italian teacher is incredibly good looking- fulfilling many of my attractiveness criteria- foreign, older, brown hair. Maybe this all stems from the first boy I ever loved, and maybe not, but I have this desire to for him to tutor me in the ways of amore.
i love you i love you- and why? Some days I feel like a Frank O'Hara poem- I do this, I do that- "I can't even enjoy a blade of grass unless I know there's a subway handy, or a record store or some other sign that people do not totally regret life". And how- I want to be that girl who slinks on the street, platforms pounding, drapey clothes that flirt with the idea of menswear, an Alexander Wang model impersonator.
- Current Music:health- die slow