She Was Always Down

"Uzun zaman boşuna var gücümle çırpındım. Usta, becerikli, ikiyüzlü, ve ihtiyatlı olmadığım gibi; dürüst, açıksözlü, sabırsız ve taşkın biri olarak, çırpındıkça daha çok battım ve bazılarına bana yeni kötülükler yapma konusunda fırsatlar verdim.Sonunda bütün gayretlerimin ve üzüntülerimin boşuna olduğunu görüp, alınabilecek tek karara vardım ki, o da kadere isyan etmeden boyun eğmekti. Acı ve boşuna bir direnişin verdiği yorgunluk ile uzlaşmayan o boyun eğişin sağladığı huzur ile derdimi unutabildim."

my head is a jungle

“Every Night and every Morn

Some to Misery are born.

Every Morn and every Night

Some are born to Sweet Delight,

Some are born to Endless Night. ”

― William Blake

Show must go on

Hayatın gelişim evreleri üzerine yaşlılarla yapılan bir çalışmada, katılımcılardan birinin cevaplarından bir kısım:

    

     "20 yaşımdan 30 yaşıma kadar eşimle nasıl geçineceğimi öğrendim. 30 yaşından 40 yaşına kadar işimde nasıl başarılı olacağımı öğrendim.40 yaşından 50 yaşına kadar da kendim hakkında daha az ve çocuklarım hakkında daha fazla endişe etmeyi öğrendim.” (Vallilant, 2002, s.114)

CHAOS

"Chaos isn't a pit. Chaos is a ladder.Many who try to climb it fail and never get to try again. The fall breaks them. And some are given a chance to climb, they cling to the realm or the gods or love. Only the ladder is real.The climb is all there is."

We Give Our Soul

"We want your soul" zamanlarından "we give our soul deliberately" zamanlarına ne kadar da çabuk geldik değil mi. Modern insan sırlarını afişe etmeye yemin etmiş gibi. Derinlerde kalan bir şey olmasın, paylaşılmayan, paylaşmayan kalmasın. Bir gün herkes 15 dklığına değil, her gün herkes 15 dklığına meşhur olsun. Her gün biraz daha fazla doz, biraz daha fazla...Ama yetmiyor, yetmeyecek değil mi.

Adam Freeland'e yeterince kulak verdik, şarkının bir de aynadan yansımasını okumanın zamanı geldi bile.

Our cellphone, our wallet, our time, our ideas

Our bankcard, our license,our thought, our fears

Our blood, our sweat, our passions,our regrets

Our profits, our time off, our fashions, our sex

Our pills, our grass, our tits, our ass

Our laughs,our balls, we give them all!

We easily tell you our habits, our fads, our fears,

We can give you our address, our shoe size, our years

Our digits, our plans, our number, our eyes

Our schedule, our desktop, our details, OUR LIFE

We can show you our children any time, our photos, our home

Our thoughts, our emotions, our love,our dreams,

Our checkbook, our essence, our sweat, our screams

Our security, our sobriety, our innocence,our society

We can give you everything

We give our soul!

Oblivion Soundtrack'den..

"OBLIVION began its journey to the big screen as an 8-page film treatment in April 2005. I had just moved to Los Angeles and had no luck finding any work in the commercial/ music video business. To keep myself from going insane, I poured my creative energy into a story about drone repairman Jack Harper – the last man on Earth. I had been listening to a song called “Unrecorded” by a relatively unknown French electronic artist and for some reason it stuck with me. In the margin of that first draft, I scribbled down a musical idea for a film that would most likely never get made – M83.Now eight years later, not only has that idea for a film become a reality (starring arguably the biggest movie star of our time), but that unknown artist has become a Grammy- nominated, very well-known artist. Anthony creates music that is aspirational, emotional and uniquely his own. I teamed him with Joe Trapanese, who I worked with on my first film and another phenomenal talent. Together they have created a score that I have dreamed about since I first put this story down on paper. I am thrilled to share it with you."

I feel sorry for Stacey

Sometimes, I wonder what I'm doing here
In the middle of this tiny square room
Filled with smoke and damp carpet
Soggy with spilled cheap champagne
With the mirrors and flashing lights
And plastic bowls half of salted peanuts
In their discarded shells.
And this room with tired waitresses
Lousy, overpriced drinks

Into the black...

I feel sorry for the men sometimes
Mostly I just feel contempt
The men with their furtive movements
and blank faces

I feel sorry for Stacey
Her face looks as though it's been stepped on
Though her body is like angel food
Almost too beautiful to look at
Her boyfriend probably doesn't when he hits her

I feel sorry for Lynne
With her expensive lingerie
Cheap dime store wigs
Trying to hide her identity
She's a Yale graduate with a huge loan debt
She hooks a little on the side

I feel sorry for Babette
With her henna'd Cleopatra hair
And large lumnious eyes
Her adorable accent of broken english
Can't hide her drug habit and predatory nature

Into the black...

Sometimes I wonder what I'm doing here
Dancing naked except for a few sequins
Lying to men for drink commissions
I take their room keys and make promises I know I won't fulfill
We're all victims in one way or another
We're all here for different reasons

Sometimes I wonder what I'm doing here
I like to sleep all day and stay out all night
The idea of a straight job is like the idea of a straightjacket
I like buying clothes
I like taking taxis
I'm pretty and intelligent
Sarcastic and selfish
I'm not going to be doing this forever

Into the black...

And I'm not going to be doing this forever
I'm only 18.