Song of the Day: Yellow by Coldplay

You could say so much about this video and song. It's really Romeo and Juilet in the form of
music instead of a written play. I like the chorus with the ethereal backing vocals. The lyrics of
life and love, heaven and hell. Any yes Hell is definetly there in the dirty guitar tone the sound of heartbreak. But there is such a beautiful contrast with the chorus that is heavenly, it really is.
I like how the video shows the stars at the start just verging on being left out of the frame.
There's so much going on in this song that makes it transcend music and turn into pure emotion
and feeling. Chris Martin isn't a genius for writing this song he's human this song is about
the human condition and the affects of love on our souls. It's honest and you can feel the longing
in every aspect of the song especially the musical performance that was recorded. I'd love to know
how many takes this song took to record. Drums lag a bit that makes me think it wasn't the first, i'll have to find out! This song is the "Let Her Go" of the 90's... :)

Are we Happy?

Hmmm interesting... :)

My Experience of Love

True love is a durable fire, In the mind ever burning, Never sick, never dead, never cold, From itself never turning I will never stop loving you For all my faults My love is true

The ghost of love is an unshakeable entity.

The ghost of love is an unshakeable entity. It haunts one continuously with its unceasing repetition. To have to think of you countless instead of being with you is exhausting. With love as deep as a prehistoric tar pit in Burbank that engulfed a family of mammoth’s I am not wrong to pity myself.  The longing I feel for you will never change regardless of time and years. The sense of loss at its worst is all-consuming and at its best is a numb sensation invading my psyche and thrusting me into periodical states of blinding melancholy. But, nevermind this is how I want it for I will always love you too. Your voice and your voice alone is what I listen for, all other are reduced to a trivial discordant static exactly my tinnitus that registers the faintest of  blips on the human radar that is my mind.

 It seems I will never know why my emotions must overrun and control my body, brain & soul causing mass confusion that provides the necessary means for my deepest flaws to spew forth the most exuberant profits in my fatal failings. To try and circumnavigate personal blame I could undertake the shamefully act of blaming what I cannot control namely myself but there is no redemption without accountability. Instead I did my Vedic charts in an act of pious salvation; appealing to my ruling planets and now understand I was born under a star of suffering, my natural habitat was also the watery plains of Jupiter filled abundant with knowledge I might add.  My 6^th house was noticeably enshrined in the intoxicating powers of Venus. Meaning that I am fated to love kindred spirits from my past lives despite my souls reprehensibly history. I do not know what I must do to atone for stupid transgressions on others, however, it is true I love the heart and mind of the person more than the body which in many ways is a vehicle or cocoon for the soul. Paradoxically my fate demands that I am subject to harsh levels of emotional turmoil in life as I am destined to love individuals that surely were a better fit in one life than the present. 

The cursed stars whispered how I can/would/will end up in a transcendental bind as past affiliations with certain souls will disrespect certain ancient connections in favour of  hedonistic omnipotency, do I blame them never, really I only wish I could join them but my constitution is frozen and shows no signs of melting. The bonds built up over a thousand lives I will stand by out of duty and will not see them so easily cast aside or burnt in a pagan fire without divine justification. It is thus my destiny, alone, to clutch onto and hold firm to the threads of the past that once must have bound us together. But, do not think that I am embittered or even angry by such a destiny. If anything my current predicament as preserver of nostalgia brings forth a reckoning of untold joy to my heart as I love to live and live to love unconditionally although flawed. 

Sometimes I believe life can seem to resemble a vast body of ocean extended out to infinity with a negative vibration.Yet, the redeeming qualities of life exist below the surface as microscopic glimmers of hope swirling around in the sea like glowing phosphercents in blackness. The subtle beauty of the pale green glow in the sea illuminates the beauty of the world like the burning heat of a true summer. Happiness it seems is no different spanning out endlessly into the south seas like a riptide commanded by the lunar dance of the moon. One night I can testify as proof for on a remote beach on Waiheke island I followed the glimmers of green magic and saw love in its purest form taking the shape of a woman beautiful beyond compare. Her lips were the most striking blood red. Like the swelling of the ever nearing emerald tide she pulled me into her heart and I was consumed like a drunk becoming hers forever like an angel free falling from the sky and safely caught in the second before impact in the arms of the beloved. As a token of appreciation in this dreamlike vision I adorned her arms with holy kisses despite the feeble nature of my lips. 

In the evening I was allowed to listen to her majestic heartbeat the sound of which echoed the greatest symphonic orchestra ever reverberated inside my skull. Gently resting on her chest my ears became perfectly attuned to the even thump of your life giving organ that spoke my name in what must have been an ancient form of morse code in between the gaps of beating. In a state between happiness and despair I didn’t have the strength to tell you of my aggravation against reality for in the exact moment when I first heard my name called by your heart I was upset for our very physical construction hindered my ability to see with my very eyes the shape and beauty of your fragile heart. I was so close yet never quite close enough, always wanting to know more never less about how you remained so unchanged while facing the overwhelming weight of my love.

 It may have seemed true satisfaction evaded me from your perspective; but it never did. For your embrace gave me such a profound sense of satisfaction that I was never to be satisfied, instead the desire for you only growing stronger and more intense, like a demanding addiction of the heart; a never-ending  hunger pain. There is also to be no significance or importance’s levelled against you in notions of love, such thoughts are antiquated now and hold no sway or value. Instead I am above  pain and love, confused don’t be my heart  will never be constituted by granite on which only the toughest diamonds could try and scratch a lovers name. Only the opposite must be confessed as true for all that matters is that you loved me, or even if you didn’t love me that you may have appreciated my being in an affectionate manner, this is far more than enough to satisfy my soul for all eternity. 

Just how skewed and bland one’s life could be without the beautiful wound of a broken heart, something that never heals and only fades, opened and shut like a flapping piece of flesh torn apart by time, exploding like a never ending Molotov cocktail in slow-motion. Primal instinct mixed with the distant throbbing pain in my chest reminds me of how my suffering is form of euphoria hungrily enjoyed by my superego bent on self-annihilation yet quizzically manifested in my insatiable will to live. 

Ha, one’s past is a human maze and I am fully corrupted in the position of which I reside in the trap, although the future looks positive I don’t care for it all I won’t is the sepia drenched past worn out with time and mis-spent like money. The place where I belong is with my thoughts marching back into themselves in a vain search for past glory underneath the wreckage of a memory like Freud’s lost object or the Holy Grail known never to exist. Oh what a joy to sing, sing the praise of stars mis-aligned in a galaxy encircling the world on such a high note mis-governed by a Godless religion known as bureaucracy. 

M.B

The Guy Wishart Tribute Band

The Guy Wishart tribute Holding Mt Albert down cranking a solid BBQ in the Summer of 2013. Arghh Good times, good food and great friends. Happy days man. Happy Days. Talor is on the left then myself Moss in the middle and DT on the right. Happy Christmas guys lets bring in the new year!! and have a great Christmas before that!

Moss

Will our predescessors be Sheppard's of the Stars?

The ironic schema of us living in the end time is conceited and irrevocably untrue, as there will be no end time for women and men. We are at the beginning and destined to live forever our DNA will become meshed with space and our predescessors will be the Sheppard's of the stars. American corruption will not topple the human race running steadfast though spastically towards the finish line in a three-legged race bound for technological and social gory. Though we may trip tetter sideways or be pushed by primal instincts reason will prevail like a skilled swimmer fighting effortless against the majestic current of human emotion.

The Freudian Death Cycle of Love

Love is a fickle business. Does someone only love you due to circumstance or a specific sequential set of events occurring in time leading to an apex at the crossroads of love, it seems we shall never know, but be that as it may we have a duty to search for why love occurs, because to do so may help us navigate the follies of the heart that cause us such anguish. Time and time again in a Freudian death cycle of love and pain the breaking nah ripping of the heart is the only road that leads to true love in its singular yet multi-facted form that propels us forward in our desire to live life in pursuit of love.

Chocolate wrappers scattered like stars

Forgotten whats its like to be held 
eating alone with no sense of taste or smell
funny how old love remains after the pain drains
like blood pumped into an early grave
men dying who need to be saved

from their selves and their fate. 

Withdrawing off first love 
3 years sober no chance to relapse
withdrawing off first love 
feels like a never-ending heart attack
still so unlucky in love 
I’m still so unlucky in love 
no chance to relapse

Rekindled love always struggles to catch 
charred embers a broken match 
A Faulty star causing a relationship to snap 
Aphrodite muses but in the end always comes back 
Returning to Mars the warrior the fighter the conquerer of love 
With a tender, sexy, sultry line 
drenched in Whiskey wet with wine
chocolate wrappers scattered like stars 
Oh why oh why did Aphrodite Love Mars
Was it Zeus, Hera or the almighty universe guilty of the crime 
Who dared to scribble such flawed hieroglyphics upon the stars. 

Higher Love - You are what you love, not what loves you :)

"It was mine, that love. I owned it. They didn't have the right to take it away. I can love whoever I want. You are what you love, not what loves you. That's what I decided a long time ago" :) (adapted from the film Adaptation) Moss

Stuart McCutcheon - Is he a Cookie Monster?

Man McCutcheon is just like the Cookie-Monster except he's all about the dough;

"In New Zealand, all universities are constrained to identical government tuition subsidies and domestic tuition fees. Students do not, therefore, have the choice of paying a higher price to enter a higher quality New Zealand university." 

ChompChompChomp me like eating raw dough not cookies lol 

http://www.nzherald.co.nz/education/news/article.cfm?c_id=35&objectid=11350829

Money Burns

Money burns a hole in your pocket 
 lovers eyes always lie
Running backwards comes to nothing 
Destiny will never be denied 
Laughing sounds best last
Love with two wings 
Never dies  Darkness will struggle against the light
putting People over money 
extracts a terrible price
We all pay to play 
yet Few grow rich 
So many die 
striving for a fulfilling life 

Will we ever see
humanity happy never 
What a world that would

be imagine trusting another

man who treated you equally

Nah Burn the blood money in the street
Throw up one last meal for the poor to eat
Give me a deadly reign in hell 

and let the weak serve in heaven for Eternity 

youth

we laughed high perched along the mystic watchtower as the children reveled in the joy of a new brand of fireworks the shudder and flashes of childhood caught unaware by the mechanics of how gun powder reacts with heat. Much like an angry cat the cracker wheezed with a dispondent crack howling like a meow from a hot tin roof. In time they were called home to bath and ready themselves for school like ghosts with tender minds in many ways there life was not there own but Summer was theres to keep forever in the knook and crannies of their young flourish minds not yet burdened with anxiety' fear and the callous natue of the adult world, for all who belonged to the later wished to leave immediately to a place were the cries of childhood fire crackers sung like sirens through the neighborhood of their youth, long gone.

Sorrow

when a cloud is hovering so close to you that somehow you hear the sound of falling raindrops dont give in to sorrow for although in a state of melancholy life goes on and after a time you are re-born when you lest expect it. Life springs eternal and even the deepest despair must past and you learn in time that one can love again even more deeply than the last. If one is forced to love or desire the opposite is assured however if indifference is applied or indeed inherrent in the situation love is yours forever. Love is inevitable said a modern philosopher who it is with is interesting but not the focus it is the sheer scale of love in the world dis-regarding all specfics that shows the beauty of love even if hate is endemic as a result.

War

Venus demands War                                                                                                                                         So we must fight                                                                                                                                   to the death in the name of love our bodies fall while the echoes and reverberations of our forefathers send electric shocks deep into our upper vortex man shall stand at the crossroads and knell before the grace of the gods all multi-facted in their colours and laden with contradictions. To be born human is fate worse than death  because the later is unavoidable and birth is a constant reoccurence. No wonder great philosphers across the ages have detested sucide for all is contained within a circle there is no escape from the ideaology of the soul only its complete destruction in relation to the physical world severes the bound a feat most will strugle with for all eternity. If the ancients believed that the gods played with dice we are all doomed to a never ending jolly re-run not dissamiliar to a never ending sitcom for all eternity so it must be that there is war for at the beginning it is created by love that negates for a time then yet again becomes war. So it seems Love and War are identical manifestations of themselves like two parts of the same wheel that manage to create the circle turning' the object only changing course when it hits a pot hole ever so often in the worn and true road of tphysical reality. It seems so tedious to be destined to continual sublimation and heavenly torture at the hands of masters bloodied with the hands of innocent . The ones who shelter in the mist are the last to be conquered but for their dis-obidence garner the harshest punishments.