i play my life in fresh air

agulina @ 2008-10-13T15:33:00

2008-10-13T19:44:40Z

the imperial sweepings insists ignition
checks but not freedom,
nothing hangs within each and of another one

the ammunition allows this way,
that it fights so brave, to defend itself,
since it can love not more

how the body of a man has been hung,
he had last of forever,
a man is hurt and it will be again
a repeated endevour

>>

2008-10-11T04:19:19Z

</div>

Kalash Valleys + The People Live In Them

2007-05-09T16:47:30Z

*sigh*

agulina @ 2007-04-11T23:11:00

2007-04-12T03:14:15Z

**ghem ghem**

agulina @ 2006-02-27T10:50:00

2006-02-27T15:54:13Z

i love when she wakes me up in the morning

agulina @ 2006-02-22T10:59:00

2006-02-22T16:01:35Z

We talked for well over an hour, we said ten million words about one, we dove into dirty shit water to find gold, and to see love. And as I lay silent now under a blue blanket, it squeezes all air out of me, it makes me fight back. I fill the room with smoke, and turn black.

agulina @ 2005-10-04T22:31:00

2005-10-05T02:33:34Z

Fishnibbler &the sky

agulina @ 2005-07-05T04:04:00

2005-07-05T08:07:38Z

old skool , yeh

the mars volta

2005-05-09T18:59:27Z

show so sexy, fantastic energy, true artists.thank you

agulina @ 2005-04-28T11:39:00

2005-04-28T15:40:14Z

Leolo
A film by Jean-Claude Lauzon
From late June at Kino, Melbourne
Reviewed by Mario Giorgetti

Canadian writer-director Jean-Claude Lauzon, whose first film, Night Zoo (1987), was well awarded but left many critics unconvinced, establishes with Leolo a solid reputation for a distinct if at times driven and almost deranged artistic genius, boldly treading the line between lunacy and lucidity.

Lauzon believes a film should be an intense and involving experience and have you on your knees with its emotional power. In this obliquely autobiographical film, he tells a powerful tale that is at once poignant, funny, seriously poetic and full of the candour, warmth and fantastic light of childhood revisited.

It's a familiar coming-of-age scenario wherein 12-year-old Leo Lozeau, a highly intelligent, sensitive boy, grows up in a stifling working-class milieu in a shabby part of town. He knows he doesn't belong here, but he can't escape his fate, so he spins a private fantasy and reinvents his life and his origins to suit himself.

In his imagined world, little Leo (Maxime Collin), born into a poor Montreal family plagued by congenital insanity, renames himself Leolo Lozone.

His real father is a pathetic man on the edge of lunacy whose mission in life seems to be to keep the doctor away by making sure everyone in the family has at least one bowel movement a day. So Leolo fantasises that his mother (Ginette Reno), the only rational member of his family, was accidentally impregnated by a tomato carrying the potent sperm of a Sicilian man named Lozone, who thus fortuitously became his father.

One by one his two sisters, his muscle-bound but childlike older brother and his father end up tied to a bed in the insane asylum, staring at the walls in catatonic stupor. It's up to Leolo now to try to break the cycle of insanity, and to that end he must destroy

his grandfather, the bad seed and contemptible wellhead of all this madness, the dirty old man who has even tainted the lovely Bianca, a teenage neighbour and object of Leolo's awakening sexual desire.

In his secret journal, of which page after page ends up in the daily trash, Leolo pens the story of his life and pours into it all the pathos and poetry of his circumstances. In his inverted Cartesian maxim, “I dream, therefore I am not”, he lives outside reality, basking in the white light that radiates from his closet, opening into a sunny Mediterranean dream world and, if he's not careful, insanity.

Leolo combines tragic and comic elements in a style reminiscent of Balzac and in subject matter not unlike Terence Davies' autobiographical film The Long Day Closes, only much more colourful and less self-indulgent. It is a romantic story told with warmth and compassion. An original piece of work and a deeply affecting cinema experience.

agulina @ 2005-04-28T11:39:00

2005-04-28T15:39:50Z

can(wikipedia)

Can (band)

Can was one of the major Krautrock bands, an avant-garde, improvisational "anarchist community" who have had a great influence on modern rock and electronic music. They formed in Cologne in 1967 as Inner Space, comprising bassist Holger Czukay, keyboard player Irmin Schmidt (both music teachers who had studied under Karlheinz Stockhausen), guitarist Michael Karoli (a pupil of Czukay), and jazz drummer Jaki Liebezeit.

Krautrock is a generic name for the experimental bands who appeared in Germany in the early 1970s. It was originally a somewhat derogatory term coined by the British music press from the slang term "Kraut", meaning "a German person" and taken from the traditional German dish of pickled cabbage, Sauerkraut. However, because much of the music produced by these bands has since come to be very highly regarded, the term 'krautrock' is now generally seen as an accolade rather than an insult.

Typical bands dubbed 'krautrock' in the early 1970s included Tangerine Dream, Faust, Can, and others associated with the celebrated Cologne-based producer and engineer Conny Plank, such as Neu!, Kraftwerk and Cluster. Bands such as these were reacting against the post-WWII cultural vacuum in Germany and tending to reject Anglo-American popular culture in favour of creating their own more radical and experimental new German culture.

agulina @ 2005-04-25T01:37:00

2005-04-25T05:38:07Z

finally~

agulina @ 2005-04-03T03:38:00

2005-04-03T07:59:09Z

"All yours,
Babooshka, babooshka, babooshka-ya-ya!
All yours,
Babooshka, babooshka, babooshka-ya-ya!"

morning , i love you

2005-03-31T16:57:33Z

Colin Blunstone - Andorra

The nearer we got to Andorra
The sun set on the left,
The rounded mountains pointed
To the black clouds in the West

Hey, there's a darkness
In the sky that's not the night
Hey, there's a rain cloud there
That's shutting out the light

What do I tell you, it's always the same:
When you run for the sun, you catch the rain

As soon as we reached Barcelona,
The cold wind touched the beach,
The sun we left in London
Is away beyond our reach

Hey, I said darling:
It seems a waste of time
Hey, all I do is sit
And drink our Spanish wine

Of all the tales of Granada
they tell of Islam's run,
they lived eneath the Moorish lord
beneath a Moorish sun.

Oh, how we yearned to turn
our faces to that glare
when down from the mountains
came the rain to soak our hair

____

sucha a beautiful voice, such a beautiful song

agulina @ 2005-03-24T17:42:00

2005-03-24T22:49:50Z

death and rebirth
immortality
Mother Earth
the life force awakened
perfect harmony

agulina @ 2005-03-22T02:47:00

2005-03-22T07:54:58Z

Doors - Crystal Ship

Before you slip into unconsciousness
I'd like to have another kiss
Another flashing chance at bliss
Another kiss, another kiss

The days are bright and filled with pain
Enclose me in your gentle rain
The time you ran was too insane
We'll meet again, we'll meet again

Oh tell me where your freedom lies
The streets are fields that never die
Deliver me from reasons why
You'd rather cry, I'd rather fly

The crystal ship is being filled
A thousand girls, a thousand thrills
A million ways to spend your time
When we get back, I'll drop a line

(love)

headache grind me into stone

2005-03-22T07:44:03Z

you speak a forgotten language, sweetheart
you mix up your days and nights, sugarpie
you choose milk over water
you're soft and unspoken of

silence never made you cry, sweetheart
silence always passed you by, sugarpie
silence is your freedom
silence took you with it

you like to dive into the sink, don't you?
you can't fit into infinity, can you?
you are an austronaut
you are the traveler of our secret lives

it really came out great

2005-03-21T08:00:19Z

agulina @ 2005-03-21T02:35:00

2005-03-21T07:50:40Z

behind closed eyes, there's a dark forest
behind darkness there's your second pair of eyeballs

earth, is alive, breathing with its oceans,
earth is our favorite house, and we're its mice
scattered , unwanted, cute,
our little round eyeballs, lookign for that cheese

the creature

2005-03-18T07:16:37Z

so far

agulina @ 2005-03-11T04:05:00

2005-03-11T09:18:17Z

a fog comes over the eye, always unexpected
a fog on the mind, a fog like still water
a puddle of unknown emotions
a puddle of bullshit
but the other,
that one is all i ever want to know
a puddle of infinite space
dedicated to creating, ONLY
it keeps on comming back
like your guilt to you
i want to be quiet
i don't want to talk
im so sick and tired of everything but

agulina @ 2005-02-23T00:16:00

2005-02-23T05:16:37Z

AUTHOR: Sage Francis

hey bobby, the masters are back up to no good just like the old days
they played dead when you stood over their graves

By the time the flags rotted off of their antennas,
they were questioning who the real threat is.
Big Brotherly love is the 21rst Century's plague.
no matter how bloody the glove, question evidence displayed.

Don't forget what two plus two equals.
Don't let them upgrade your math no matter what they have as proof of evil.
Remember when they went after the Jewish people?
You don't recognize that same black mask as see through?

Attack of the eagles. If they don't fall dead
before they reach me, I'll be damned if I don't shoot one in its bald head.
Fuck what we're force fed. All I ever wanted
was a warm bed and a house that wasn't haunted.

I'd rather die for a cause than to die just because
we exhaust natural resources forced into wars,
restoring wasteful ways, keeping other countries poor.
"Monkey see, Monkey do" I wonder what those fucking monkeys saw.

Keep rethinking the still-frames in your mind,
and guarantee they will change with time.
Your outline is pixelated with poor resolution while
downtime is simply wasted. You were born execution style.

Head first in a trial. I'll second the motion
'Til the jury's bored to death and puts your neck in a notion.
The situation's volatile. A naked problem child
is trying to find the right clown costume to make his father smile

So he bombs while he tries to tell jokes.
This ain't a false alarm, can't you smell the smoke?
You're in the line of fire where they buy and sell votes.
Our sense of liberty doesn't ring true, stupid, that's why the bell broke.

Trench coat Mafiosos propel rocks
at recruitment officers and rebel against cops
'Til they hurdle infinite circles in small cell blocks.
Turtle upon turtle 'til they're all shell shocked.

This so-called president got elected in a court room.
With the war efforts of pops he inherited a fortune.
We "talk, talk, talk..." so the veterans of war assume
the revolution stopped. This ain't a protest tune.

"Hey, Bobby...the Masters are back. They're up to no good just like the old days.
They played dead when you stood over their grave, Bobby. They played dead when you stood over their grave.
"Hey, Bobby...them bastards are back. It's our turn to stand over their grave.
I'm a do it right this time...I'm awake...I'm a wait until their fuckin' skin decays."

You can't roam a lost land as the last existing dinosaur.
There's no escaping ass kickings in these times of war,
replacing apples with hospitals...where doctors are hostile,
Killing two pterodactyls with one fossil.

I got you. If they don't fall dead
Before they reach me, I'll be damned if I don't shoot one in it's bald head.
Fuck what we're force fed. All I ever wanted,
Was a warm bed...and house that wasn't haunted.

Thumb through novels to have your fingerprints match,
The description of criminals committing innocent acts
of compassion for tired civilians crawling with pistols,
While we fire million dollar warning missals.

Force the issues in the back of your head where eyes roll.
Brain wash yourself out of that mind control.
Or act a fool like you're told.
But we won't see no type of justice 'til that bitch removes the blindfold.

This ain't a "Love it or leave it," it's a "Change it or lose it."
I'll never sing the anthem of a nation who never faces the music,
Chasing an ever-elusive caveman
in space ships that makes trips to the futures that are name-brand.

Faking progress...but we ain't advanced
Enough to change the posture of our ape stance?
They've got the key to the city but they prefer the break-in entry.
Duck and weave, I'm shedding light in their shadow box to make it empty.

"Hey, Bobby...the Masters are back. They're up to no good just like the old days.
They played dead when you stood over their grave, Bobby. They played dead when you stood over their grave.
"Hey, Bobby...them bastards are back. It's our turn to stand over their grave.
I'm a do it right this time...I'm awake...I'm a wait until their fuckin' skin decays."

Attack of the eagles. If they don't fall dead
Before they reach me, I'll be damned if I don't shoot one in its bald head.
Fuck what we're force fed. All I ever wanted
was a warm bed...

There's nothing scarier than the human stories I tell ghosts,
Chilling accounts with my tongue frozen to bed posts.
The catharses of carcasses whenever threats are close,
Shows a heartlessness that doesn't register on stethoscopes.

Sell your hopes for a homeland security chart,
'Til your sense of self is broke and no man's pure in the heart.
Preventive detention for the folks who never left home.
Tensions have grown into a 24/7 red zone.

Scare tactics...have got you under control,
The fear factors of a color code. The uppers know
They can't hold you down without having anchors attached.
"It's all the same." Nah, balls and chains on ankles don't match.

So drag your torso back to the off road.
We may have lost the fashion battle but we ain't lost the wardrobe.
Go window shopping for your next free meal,
Cuz when we start the revolution all you'll probably do is steal.

"Hey, Bobby...the Masters are back. They're up to no good just like the old days.
They played dead when you stood over their grave, Bobby. They played dead when you stood over their grave.
"Hey, Bobby...them bastards are back. It's our turn to stand over their grave.
I'm a do it right this time...I'm awake...I'm a wait until their fucking skin decays."

agulina @ 2005-02-22T01:25:00

2005-02-22T06:28:30Z

Frida the dove, still missing some feathers, but not completely quiet all the time, coos once in awhile, shy lonely birdie, maybe one of these days ill find her a buddy

agulina @ 2005-02-21T03:34:00

2005-02-21T08:43:51Z

LONG GONE

She was long gone, long, long gone
she was gone, gone, the bigger they come
the larger her hand 'till no one understands
why for so long she'd been gone.

And I stood very still by the window sill
and I wondered for those I love still
I cried in my mind where I stand behind
the beauty of love's in her eyes...

She was long gone, long, long gone
she was gone, gone, the bigger they come
the larger her hand 'till no one understands
why for so long she'd been gone.

And I borrowed the page
from a leopard's cage
and I prowled in the evening sun's glaze
her head lifted high to the light in the sky
the opening dawn on her face...

She was long gone long, long gone
she was gone, gone, the bigger they come
the larger her hand 'till no one understands
why for so long she'd been gone.

And I stood very still by the window sill
and I wondered for those I love still
I cried in my mind where I stand behind
the beauty of love's in her eyes...

She was long gone long, long gone.

-Syd Barrett

agulina @ 2005-02-15T01:03:00

2005-02-15T06:20:21Z

time is rythm
we call it one two three
i listen to augustus pablo
it keeps my time slow and silly
were all of different speeds
and music is here for us to dance with
time is here for us to play with