Saturday, February 4, 2012

All I Want is My Radio

I thought I'd share some of the songs I'm addicted to at the moment.  Not listening to, addicted to.  Yup.

First of all, I've been listening to a LOT of "Stars" lately.  "Set Yourself on Fire" is one of my favorite all-around albums, and constantly lives in my car cd player.  But I've been really digging their "Nightsongs" album, as well as their newer "In Our Bedroom After the War" album.  Just good stuff.

Here's "My Radio (FM Mix) which is just a good, chill song.

Continuing with Star's "Nightsongs" album, I love "Going, Going, Gone."

And from their album, "In Our Bedroom After the War," here's "The Night Starts Here."

And "Take Me to the Riot."

And continuing in the sort of electronic genre, you can never get enough of New Order's "Bizarre Love Triangle."  At least I can't.

Circlesquare's "7 Minutes" is a little weird (in a good way), and I can't stop listening to it over and over again.

And Youth Group's version of "Forever Young" is too good not to listen to over and over again.

Thursday, February 2, 2012

Breathing Only When Necessary

So I've been going through old journals (online and paper) in order to recall how things were in high school.  I don't have the best memory, and even though it was only 9 years ago, it seems like a LONG time ago.  And since the book I want to write revolves around highschoolers... well, it seems important to remember. 

So I think I'll be posting some poems/entries/thoughts I wrote when I was younger.  Call it nostalgia. 

This isn't from high school, it's from college (21st birthday weekend, to be exact), but I feel like it expressed exactly how I felt back then.

We left a graveyard of bones on the beach that day.
Blasted bottle rockets, red sticks jutting out of sand.
Brightly colored paper littered with warning–
we saw them as fallen comrades, brothers in arms,
dazzling in their short-lived glory.

The wind was so fast and it battered at the lighters
held within soft blazers as we huddled out the cold.
A spark and it was running towards the powder
a spark and we were running towards the water
a spark and we counted onetwothree and flung it upwards
to heaven.

The fire was burning and we watched the embers jump to blankets.
We held bottles and held each other up,
falling in the sand under dizzying lightness and cold and euphoria.
And to the darkness we fled, clothes pealing, voices reeling, conscience fleeting.
Hold me up under the weight of it all.

I could be 21 for the rest of my life,
laying in the sand and watching stars stroke the galaxy,
breathing only when necessary.

An actual picture of a bottle rocket from that night.  Counted onetwothree and let it fly.