Very happy for you Fred, well deserved recognition. Your heart shines more than that Oscar you are holding



Who asks doth err.
Who answers errs.
Say naught.








magic.


Ágaetis Byrjun
Sigur Rós
Ágætis Byrjun

beedashbrackets:

Agaetis Byrjun (A Good Beginning) by the Icelandic post-rock band, Sigur Ros

If someone asked me to play the most beautiful song I’ve ever heard, I would play them this.

(via emergentpattern)


there is nothing I can say, safely.

there are changes and motions and stillness

that have left me naked and stripped to my bare organs;

the heart being the evident one.

what can I do now with this?

dress myself up? 

keep all hope down?

there is no home yet. no place, no heartbeat, no whisper.

I have buried this many times,

it resurfaces as if it was a gore tale.

It comes out, almost shinning its light

to face my own little darkness.

I hate that I love. 

yet I live because of it.

I re-member, and arrange and continue,

awake, barely.

trying to weigh my feet down I find myself,

after all these years.

No more an astronaut I wish to be;

but I still wonder, I still look at the sky.

You know? I still write, how ironic.

I still am who I was, 

but less. much less. 

and with it I have not become more.

I use the word I still. 

(is it even considered a word?)

I battle my thoughts with your logic.

I silence my own naive narrative,

because,

well,

who knows why I am even allowing it.

I question my intention every step of every way,

even though I have no way.

Lost as it were, moving slowly,

in rhythm with the desire of not wanting more distance.

I died. I did die.

Just like love I still try to resurface.

Every so often I smile. bot not for long.

not an adult smile.

because there is no real reason to.

not with a broken heart. 

a heart that should be empty by now. 

but it is full,

of you.

And I carry that weigh, that life that never happened.

That night, that day, that phrase, that word, that whisper,

that touch,

I re-live it to live.

I have yet to get sick of it. 

at least as much as it got sick of me.