foo fighters, manipulation, beer

15 07 2007

Hi there. Sunday eve. First of all, let’s celebrate the 10th anniversary of the 1997 Foo Fighters album, The Colour And The Shape. 2 of my favourite tracks:

Enough Space

I was waiting for something – maybe flying machines – that’s when i found lily – best I’ve ever seen – Put her on the ceiling – try to make her my own – people line up to see – but there never seems to be enough space


Hello – I’ve waited here for you – Everlong – Tonight – I throw myself into – and out of the red out of her head she sang – Come down and waste away with me – down with me – Slow out you wanted it to be – over my head, out of my head she sang – and I wonder – when I sing along with you – If everything could ever feel this real forever – If anything could ever be this good again – the only thing I’ll ever ask of you – you’ve got to promise not to stop when I say when – She sang – Breathe out – so I can breathe you in – Hold you in – and now – I know you’ve always been – out of your head out of my head i sang

…not sure this is everyone’s cup of tea, though…

Next. A few reflexions. On manipulation. How everybody seems to be doing it, at times, or often, over and over. And on how I’ve come to being tired of being fooled. Too nice, too honest, too straightforward. I don’t mean to play the victim here, I really don’t. But I have come to notice how easily one can be fooled, led astray. For one thing seems quite sure though, you only get fooled by others if you agree in the first place that they may abuse you. But in the first place, you’re quite open and trustful… well, is any human relation in fact some form of contract? This generation, the iPod (I have an iPod) over-consuming generation that treats one another as products on supermarket shelves, like any person can be replaced. A spoiled generation. In all meanings of the word. Too many goodies, too easily!! Eager to get, unable to give. Really utterly unable. That don’t even gets what the word itself means. The “comfort” zone. Danger zone. Hmm.


Deep thoughts, huh?!

Yes so last night I was out dancing with friends and why is it that I systematically end up more than drunk, walking back home in zig-zags… needing a whole sunday to recover… some sort of escapism, huh? Saturdaynight escapism. An emotional valve, to pump out the overflow. Mixing in the crowd. The (wet) dance floor, the beer, the bodies, the sweat, rock, the lights, high energy.

Weather today was more of summer like yet it is heavy, damp. Ok, so now I’m going to complain about the weather like an old fart, what next?

Erase and rewind.

I keep dreaming about the house, and not wanting/being (emotionally) able to sell it, crying crying crying. It’s a tough one, this year, and more generally, in my life. But then again. What doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger.

Play some more bass. More Foo Fighters. More energy.

All right now. All right.




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