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You started out, two winters past

time stood still, we were moving too fast
You ran away, April, May, and June
when you came back, I was over the moon

I was high, I was high, over the moon
You were there, you were there, midnight and noon oh
Bring it back, bring it back, we started too soon
I was high, I was high, over the moon oh oh

Then came fall, even we fell hard
bruised our bodies, skinned our knees and our hearts
Then I got sick, yeah but no one could tell
now I drink your love, drink it right from the well

And it’s good, and it’s good, right from the well
Wanna taste, wanna touch, wanna see and smell oh
And it feels, like it feels, heals me so well
Wanna drink, wanna drink, right from the well oh oh

Now here I sit, in my burning cell
summer sun, beating hotter than hell
I need your love, like the air I breathe
I need it more than you could ever believe

And you give, and you give, give it to me
And you give, and you give, all that I need oh
And I take, and I take, the blood that you bleed
And you give, and you give, give it to me oh

And you give, and you give, give it to me
And you give, and you give, all that I need oh
And I take, and I take, the blood that you bleed
And you give, and you give, give it to me oh oh

http://www.oddsac.com/

Odd Sac

Ludwig Van Beethoven, one of the most influential composers of all time, started to lose his hearing in his late-twenties and as a result, although he continued to compose, distanced himself from friends and family. At the age of 32, following bouts of depression and suicidal thoughts, he wrote the following letter – now known as the Heiligenstadt Testament – to be opened by his brothers after his death, in which he explains his anti-social behaviour and affliction. Curiously, he chose not to write his brother Johann’s name anywhere in the letter, instead leaving blank spaces.

Beethoven died 25 years later.

Translated Transcript

For my brothers Carl and [Johann] Beethoven

Oh you men who think or say that I am malevolent, stubborn, or misanthropic, how greatly do you wrong me. You do not know the secret cause which makes me seem that way to you. From childhood on, my heart and soul have been full of the tender feeling of goodwill, and I was even inclined to accomplish great things. But, think that for six years now I have been hopelessly afflicted, made worse by senseless physicians, from year to year deceived with hopes of improvement, finally compelled to face the prospect of a lasting malady (whose cure will take years or, perhaps, be impossible).

Though born with a fiery, active temperament, even susceptible to the diversions of society, I was soon compelled to isolate myself, to live life alone. If at times I tried to forget all this, oh, how harshly was I flung back by the doubly sad experience of my bad hearing. Yet it was impossible for me to say to people, “Speak Louder, shout, for I am deaf”. Oh, how could I possibly admit an infirmity in the one sense which ought to be more perfect in me than others, a sense which I once possessed in the highest perfection, a perfection such as few in my profession enjoy or ever have enjoyed. – Oh I cannot do it; therefore forgive me when you see me draw back when I would have gladly mingled with you.

My misfortune is doubly painful to me because I am bound to be misunderstood; for me there can be no relaxation with my fellow men, no refined conversations, no mutual exchange of ideas. I must live almost alone, like one who has been banished. I can mix with society only as much as true necessity demands. If I approach near to people a hot terror seizes upon me, and I fear being exposed to the danger that my condition might be noticed. Thus it has been during the last six months which I have spent in the country. By ordering me to spare my hearing as much as possible, my intelligent doctor almost fell in with my own present frame of mind, though sometimes I ran counter to it by yielding to my desire for companionship.

But what a humiliation for me when someone standing next to me heard a flute in the distance and I heard nothing, or someone standing next to me heard a shepherd singing and again I heard nothing. Such incidents drove me almost to despair; a little more of that and I would have ended my life. It was only my art that held me back. Oh, it seemed to me impossible to leave the world until I had forth all that I felt was within me. So I endured this wretched existence, truly wretched for so susceptible a body, which can be thrown by a sudden change from the best condition to the worst. Patience, they say, is what I must now choose for my guide, and I have done so – I hope my determination will remain firm to endure until it pleases the inexorable Parcae to break the thread. Perhaps I shall get better, perhaps not; I am ready. – Forced to become a philosopher already in my twenty-eight year, oh, it is not easy, and for the artist much more difficult than for anyone else. Divine One, thou seest my inmost soul thou knowest that therein dwells the love of mankind and the desire to do good. Oh, fellow men, when at some point you read this, consider then that you have done me injustice. Someone who has had misfortune may console himself to find a similar case to his, who despite all the limitations of Nature nevertheless did everything within his powers to become accepted among worthy artist and men.

You, my brothers Carl and Johann, as soon as I am dead, if Dr. Schmid is still alive, ask him in my name to describe my malady, and attach this written documentation to his account of my illness so that so far as it is possible at least the world may become reconciled to me after my death. At the same time, I declare you two to be the heirs to my small fortune (if so it can be called); divide it fairly, bear with and help each other. What injury you have done me you know was long ago forgiven. To you, brother Carl, I give special thanks for the attachment you have shown me of late. It is my wish that you may have at better and freer life than I have had. Recommend virtue to your children; it alone, not money, can make them happy. I speak from experience; this was what upheld me in time of misery. Thanks for it and to my art, I did not end my life by suicide – Farewell and love each other.

I thank all my friends, particularly Prince Lichnowsky and Professor Schmid; I would like the instruments from Prince L. to be preserved by one of you, but not to be the cause of strife between you, and as soon as they can serve you a better purpose, then sell them. How happy I shall be if I can still be helpful to you in my grave – so be it. With joy I hasten towards death. If it comes before I have had the chance to develop all my artistic capacities, it will still be coming too soon despite my harsh fate, and I should probably wish it later – yet even so I should be happy, for would it not free me from the state of endless suffering? Come when thou wilt, I shall meet thee bravely. Farewell and do not wholly forget me when I am dead; I deserve this from you, for during my lifetime I was thinking of you often and of ways to make you happy – be so – .

Ludwig van Beethoven
Heiligenstadt,
October 6th, 1802

Janelle-Monáe_10700_full

Janelle Monae: “Many Moons” Official Short Film

The Uncut version of the short film Directed by Alan Ferguson and The Wondaland Arts Society, “Many Moons.”

For fun Facts about the video visit –
http://www.myspace.com/orenlavie

I have no other way
There is a price to pay
For what the man will say
But I was a million miles away
In a promise full of steam
It could take no vacant dream
To persuade me to believe

I think just dont fight it
Dont fight it
Dont fight it
If you dont know what it is
If you dont know what it is

I left my heart in places
Forgot every one of their faces
And tried to navigate
A broken path of which I may have
helped create
In any incident this is never no accident
To stand alone and let the silence make
itself at home

Oh give it up
Those dirty tricks
No quick fix can undo it

Oh give it up
I wont resist
My answers always this

I say just dont fight it
Dont fight it
Dont fight it
If you dont know what it is
If you dont know what it is

Where has my light gone
Where has my fight gone
What keeps us burning when the fire
is long gone
When I cant relate
To that voice without a face
Should I be afraid
Or is it just a voice I did create

Oh give it up
Those dirty tricks
No quick fix can undo it
Oh give it up
I wont resist
My answers always this


Youtube link to an interesting song. No video.

A song from Andrew Bird’s 2007 album Armchair Apocrypha

Dark Matter

When I was just a little boy
I threw away all of my action toys
I became obsessed with operation, oh

Hearts and minds and certain glands
You got to learn to keep a steady hand
And thus began my morbid fascination

Tore all the spines out from all of these self-help books
Made myself a gun that not only shoots
but looks real
Yeah it shoots through steel with rays of dark matter
Rays of dark matter

Just the thought of all this red and black
Thought of tongues that tasted bad
Fill you with the nausea-ausea-ausea-alation

Do you wonder where the self resides
Is it in the head or between your sides
And who would be the one who will decide
it’s two locations

The noose is loosed around our necks made of DNA
And everyday it’s growing tighter, no matter what you do or say
But you can shoot right through with rays of dark matter
Right before they kick out, they kick out the ladder
Rays of dark matter

When I was just a little boy
I threw away all of my action toys
I became obsessed with operation

Hearts and minds and certain glands
You got to learn to keep a steady hand
And thus began my morbid fascination