Chelsea Hotel

I've been burying myself in Leonard Cohen lately. True beauty. I think he wrote this song about Janis Joplin. Makes me wonder if she actually gave him head. It wouldn't suprise me. I certainly would, if I had the chance, hahah... Not too serious today. Hey, I'm trying here.

~

I remember you well in the Chelsea Hotel

you were talking so brave and so sweet

giving me head on the unmade bed

while the limousines wait in the street

those were the reasons

and that was New York

we were running for the money and the flesh

and that was called love

for the workers in song

probably still is for those of them left

ah, but you got away

didn't you, baby?

you just turned your back on the crowd

you got away

I never once heard you say

"I need you, I don't need you,

I need you, I don't need you,"

and all of that driving around

I remember you well in the Chelsea hotel

you were famous, your heart was a legend

you told me again you preferred handsome men

but for me, you would make an exception

and clenching your fists

for the ones like us

who are opressed by the figures of beauty

you fixed yourself, you said,

"well, never mind,

we are ugly, but we have the music,"

and then you got away

didn't you, baby?

you just turned your back on the crowd

you got away

I never once heard you say

"I need you, I don't need you,

I need you, I don't need you,"
and all of that driving around

I don't mean to suggest that I loved you the best

I can't keep track of each fallen robin

I remember you well in the Chelsea Hotel

that's all, I don't even think of you that often

Space Lion

Breathtaking. Unearthly, and earthly at the same time. Divine. Epic. Wonderful. If I ever gain the ability to fly, then I'll do it while listening to this. I want to find a hill and watch the winter-sun set or rise, and let the saxophone and the voices and the drums fill me up. Beautiful. I've never felt the urge to go into space before hearing this in the context it's set in; which is Glenn, or Gren, flying towards a place he loves, blackness and stars all around him, blood flowing, life leaving. That scene and this piece of music makes me ache, makes me long for the vast and the empty, and the hope that there might be something far away, but still reachable, that will make the world and the life I'm living mean something. Something other than what I see and feel. Something to do with, oh, I don't know. A plan. Or being seen. Being anything but alone. I want to explore the universe. But I'd never get anywhere. There's too much space. I wish it wasn't so... Enormous. Impossibly large. Infinite. Never-ending.

I long for a time and place where there's only the earth, and the sky above it. Nothing within, nothing beyond.

Ode to divorce

~

the food that I'm eating
is suddenly tasteless
I know I'm alone now
I know what it tastes like

so break me to small parts
let go in small doses
but spare some for spare parts
there might be some good ones

like, you might make a dollar
I'm inside your mouth now
behind your tonsils
peeking over your molars
you're talking to her now
you've eaten something minty
and you're making that face that I like
and you're going in, in
for the kill, kill
for the killer kiss, kiss
for the kiss, kiss

I need your money
it'll help me, I need your car
and I need your love

so won't you help a brother out?
won't you help a brother out?
won't you help a brother out, out, out, out, out?

just break me to small parts
let go in small doses
but spare some for spare parts
you might make a dollar
dollar, you might make a dollar

so won't you help a brother out?
won't you help a brother out?
won't you help a brother out, out, out, out, out?

just break me to small parts
let go in small doses
but spare some for spare parts
there might be some good ones
you might make a dollar
there might be some good ones
you might make a dollar
the might be some good ones

Scenic world

Such simple words, and they still say so much. A lot of people say many things with few words, and I know I'm in no way the first person to say that about something. However, That doesn't stop me from loving the perfection of it.

~

the lights go on, the lights go off
when things don't feel right
I lie down like a tired dog
licking his wounds in the shade

when I feel alive
I try to imagine a careless life
a scenic world where the sunsets are all
breathtaking
breathtaking

Poses

Autumn. Reminds me of when I first thought I was discovering my wings, when I tried to shape my life into something urban and sunny, when cups of tea and a good scarf and the smell of Oslo and Grünerløkka filled me up, along with us. The way we were.

~

the yellow walls are line with portraits
and I've got my new red fetching leather jacket
all these poses, such beautiful poses
makes any boy feel like picking up roses

there's never been such grave a matter
as comparing our new brand name black sunglasses
all these poses, such beautiful poses
makes any boy feel as pretty as princes

the green autumnal parks conducting
and the city streets, a wondrous chorus singing
all these poses, oh, how can you blame me?
life is a game and true love is a trophy

and you said, "watch my head about it,"
baby, you said, "watch my head about it,
my head about it"
oh no, oh no, oh no
oh no, oh no, no kidding

reclined amongst these packs of reasons
for to smoke the days away into the evenings
all these poses of classical torture
ruined my mind like a snake in the orchard

I did go from wanting to be someone
now I'm drunk and wearing flip flops on Fifth Avenue
once you've fallen from classical virtue
won't have a soul for to wake up and hold you

in the green autumnal parks conducting
and the city streets, a wondrous chorus
singing, "all these poses, now no longer boyish
made me a man, ah, but who cares what that is?"


and you said, "watch my head about it,"
baby, you said, "watch my head about it,
my head about it"
oh no, oh no, oh no
oh no, oh no, well
you said, "watch my head about it,"
baby, you said, "watch my head about it,
my head about it"
oh no, oh no, oh no
oh no, oh no, no kidding