Profile
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| User: | froulala (1090640) Day (d) Reamer
meretricious persiflage |
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| Name: | lift [here] to open. | |||||
| Location: | the anus of america, OK, United States | |||||
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| Bio: | welcome to a piece of my mind, floating here in space and time.  i exist somewhere between the what was and the what if... the Land of Happy Accidents. Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded time, And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player That struts and frets his hour upon the stage, And then is heard no more. It is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing. Music is your own experience, your own thoughts, and your own wisdom. If you don't live it, it won't come out of your horn. They teach you there's a boundary line to music. But, man, there's no boundary line to art. ~Charlie Parker  Passion, it lies in all of us. Sleeping, waiting and though unwanted, unbidden, it will stir, open its jaws and howl. It speaks to us, guides us... Passion rules us all and we obey. What other choice do we have? Passion is the source of our finest moments; the joy of love, the clarity of hatred and the ecstasy of grief. It hurts sometimes more than we can bear. If we could live without passion, maybe we'd know some kind of peace. But we would be hollow, empty rooms, shuttered and dank. Without passion, we'd be truly dead. ~Angelus the resurrection of the dead ... we are buried below with everything we did, with our tears and our laughs. we have made storerooms of history out of it all, galleries of the past, treasure houses, buildings and walls and endless stairs of iron and marble in the callars of time. we will not take anything with us. even plundering kings, they all left something here. lovers and conquerors, happy and sad, they all left something here. a sign, a house. like a man who seeks to return to a beloved place and purposely forgets a book, a basket, a pair of glasses, so that he will have an exscuse to come back to the beloved place. in the same way we leave things here. in the same way the dead leave us. ~yehuda anichai | |||||
| Memories:: | 9 entries | |||||
| Pictures: | over 30 public | |||||
| Interests: | 13: androgyny, asymmetry, champagne jams, creme brulee, dancing, dreaming, fireflies, happy accidents, pretending, rain, spirals, ♥, ♪ | |||||
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| Account type: | Plus Account | |||||
