( H ZETT M: Passion, fun and wonderful fingers... )
 

For some, music is not just a pastime,
It’s an undeniable fact of living,
A blissful slavery of mind, body and soul.
To rise above the ashes of mediocrity is rare,
Yet the gift of song is freely handed out to anyone who cares to receive it,
Instantly shattering our daily drudgery.

The path to pursue more than the usual,
More than what is safe and known,
Is wrought with time-sharpened jagged blades that cut deep,
Blocking many from the road to something greater,
Beyond the stunted imagination of their peers.

Within the veins of the few,
Passion fills every sinew with a sweet unquenchable purpose,
Calming the fear of those treacherous paths,
Though every slice burns and bleeds,
Still they take each cut
And wear the scars with pride to signal their choice,
That undying pursuit of greater joy within every chord.

And so they say – Watch me bleed

Taken from The Best of Hanson: Live and Electric

*****

Dear Me:

Hey. I'm you. I am writing this to you, because lately, I haven't seen you around oO

Seems like your neurons are quite busy with these Monoral and Radiohead guys oO

I know you love music and it's exciting you're gonna see them live,

BUT you should worry a bit more about your thesis ¬¬

Finish the fucking thing and stop messing up!! Damn it!!

You'll enjoy those lives more if you don't have that thing in mind oO Don't you think?

Also, finish the fic you were writing oO I dunno why the hell you wrote that thing in parts!!

You know you suck at keeping excited at one thing for too long ¬¬

-I still can't believe you wrote a play in 3 days ¬¬ Those were some days!!! ..


Well... That's it I guess. Tomorrow, attend The Beatles Symphonic thing and then FOCUS!!


Sincerely yours,
You.


PS: Stop playing that fucking guitar!! -Sorry to tell you u-u, but.... You suck!!
 

Dear Me:

Thanks for writing... I dunno what else to say, but...     


FUCK OFF!!!


You.


 

PS:     All flowers in time bend towards the sun ♪


 

 

Time takes care of the wound, so I can believe.
You had so much to give, you thought I couldn't see.
Gifts for boot heels to crush, promises deceived
I had to send it away to bring us back again.
Your eyes and body brighten silent waters, deep.

(  3:39 )                                            Your precious daughter in the other room, asleep.

A kiss "Goodnight" from every stranger that I meet.
I had to send it away to bring us back again.
Morning theft, and pretender left, ungrateful.
True Self is what brought you here, to me.
A place where we can accept this love.
Friendship battered down by useless history,
Unexamined failure.

 

What am I still to you? Some thief who stole from you?
Or some fool drama queen whose chances were few?

Love brings us to who we need,
a place where we can save
A heart that beats as both siphon and reservoir.
You're a woman, I'm a calf.
You're a window, I'm a knife.
We come together making chance into starlight.
Meet me tomorrow night, or any day you want.
I have no right to wonder just how, or when.
And though the meaning fits, there's no relief in this.
I miss my beautiful friend.
I had to send it away to bring her back again.

 

RADIOHEAD in Chile


March 27, 2009

I can die after that.


Today, I'm the happiest bastard on this fucking bloody cookie cutter big cruel world!!!!!

 

 

( Monoral Signatures )

 

( Hanson Signatures )