'nice' RE: Carles/chillwave

Carles from hipster runoff has offered up an incredible defense of the 'chillwave' genre and artistic creation in general re: the New York Times arts beat.  He cast aside his normal ironic and sardonic tone and satire laden prose/his propensity to use abbreviations and 'bro'-talk for an intelligent and well-written response to a critical review of bands such as Toro y Moi, Washed Out, Neon Indian, Small Black, Memory Tapes, etc.

Needless to say, i 'dig'.

now i'm late for work

there is a mouse in my house

challenging my sanity

it appears out of the corner of my eye

but never directly head on

just a flash of shadowy black

for something like a mili-second

enough to make you think you saw it

but not enough to make you know for sure.

come out you little fucker

let's be friends

no need to be so scared of each other

i'll feed you vegetarian things if you decide to be sociable

'and they lived happily ever after'

that could be us, friend.

let that be us, friend.

i wonder if he goes into his hole

and writes things about me

i wonder if he wants to kill me

or if he writes about how he wants to

be friends too

i hope he wrote

'and they live happily ever after'

too

there is a mouse in my house

his appearances are always brief

i've grown fond of the little fucker

though my only description of him is

'black as night'

so maybe it's a rat

damn it

is this beautiful?

i took a sip of my tea

the light caught the surface in just the right angle and it revealed

a patina of oils floating on the surface

from my lips

i loved you so dearly

after making love

we laid naked, our bodies

exposed and

entwined;

your soft skin angelic and

smooth;

our flushed faces hot, smiling,

tired.

i put on that record, miles davis "bitches brew"to

sleep;

the relaxing ambience set by the faint glow of old christmas lights,

hanging;

bookcases acted as a divider from the rest of the room,

privacy;

the low vaulted wood paneling above us,

cozy;

my arm wrapped around your chest, a promise

to protect you.

i simultaneously showed my affection;

your tousled strawberry hair i lightly

kissed;

i breathed in

your neck,

we drifted into dreams

delicately,

exploring the universe

together.

it was cold

but our bodies in union,

kept warm.
it was one of many moments in our time that

i thought

'this moment is eternal'

in the morning

we wrote on each other's backs:

on your skin

a secret

my mouth

never told...

"words with friends"

Today i opened my iphone

app which is called "words

with friends"

which you play with 'friends' and it

is scrabble with a different name.

The board i played with her was

full of double meanings because

i was no longer trying to win -

the game at least. 

She played back.

'heal' 'love' 'chimes' 'yes' 'vow' 'care' 'love'

A message greeted me this morning to

underwhelming fanfare:

"You won!"

"A.P. xxxxx has resigned"

ya, 

"words with friends", 

I know.

that kid perpetuated negative stereotypes re 'hipster' or a fairly superficial fart of words displayed meaningfully here

kiss my ass mother fucker

you have a lot of potential

fuck you

i'm keeping your poop in my jar

or am i keeping my poop in your jar

what a dick hole

douche hole

hiney hole

tee hee

for jenna, circa christmas 2009:

best read by your computer's monotone.

new black cab session

Dry The River from Black Cab Sessions on Vimeo

i don't have permission to embed.

check it out here.

great harmonies.

this man can sing

this russian singer fills me with inspiration.

thank you aquarium drunkard

i was going to write a story for a website but it turned into something else quite quickly

dear those who know me and think this may be about someone in particular: it isn't/it is, kind of and for the most part.  this is a semi-organized stream of thought regarding 'things' that sometimes deal heavily with 'her'.

Freshman in college trying to get some

Lovers in college taking philosophy together

Walking in gardens smiling at tulips 2 am

Thinking of the world each other and happiness

Crying over loss hate longing

How many people have you been with?

“between 100 and 500”

there was no rest that night

things were bad

things were good

sex, lots of sex

he walked in the snow in the cold in the freezing shit of the world

to be with her to escape her to be with her

he was with her for a second

for a few years

maybe four

flash back on a bench in the city or flash forward to a

flash back in a gazebo holding hands talking the night away where there was a

flash forward behind the glow of her laptop

maybe in a house where he sat in the glow while she partied

fucked and drank and ignored

maybe it wasn’t her

in college and confused sort of fucked

that was his first

that was her fears realized

realized when he was in the shower with another being that was different

wasn’t her

he lied

how many people have you been with?

“Between 100 and 500”

Things were bad

Things were good

Sex, lots of sex

Someone perished it was sad and everyone felt remorse

He was sad but he couldn’t cry

He tried to cry

He forced himself

Emotionally null or in love but all the same

Things were good

Things were bad

Sex, lots of sex

She saw an owl

An omen, or maybe just an owl

No she didn’t see it she loved it

No they were hiking she saw a deer

They fought they loved

Four years later she almost died

And he walked away

One day later he felt regret, remorse, longing, self-loathing

Three months later and six months and ten months and twelve months still

One year later he decided he wanted to be together forever

A month too late

A day too late

Two months too late

How many people have you been with?

“Between 100 and 500”

Things were good

Things were bad

Sex, there was no sex

She fell in love with another him

A different him

He’s only really been with one

a little beauty

for your night:

las ondas marteles

never heard of them/listened to them until i watched these lovely la blogoteque sessions.  they got a fantastic unique sound.  something bout that lead singer cracking in and out of his tenor and the deep bass/the nakedness of it all. cuban/mexican/parisian musical influences create a sound unlike anything i can think of for comparison. 

four videos at the link.

Las Ondas Marteles - Poor Little Baby - A Take Away Show from La Blogotheque on Vimeo.