Some of my favorites...
Hermes: "The most important thing for a traveler is decisiveness. That holds true for both rookie and veteran travelers. Am I wrong?"
Kino: "The most important thing for a traveler is what saves the traveler after struggling to the bitter end."
Hermes: "What’s that?"
Kino: "That’s luck"
Kino: "Someone once told me that watching the birds made them want to go on a journey."
Hermes: "Who told you that?"
Kino: "I forget..."
"It snows...and it covers up and hides things "
Kino: "It’s pretty interesting"
Hermes: "What is?"
Kino: "The way that when someone expresses anything, someone’s always there to interpret it."
Kino: "Why can’t the world just be a series of events"
Hermes: "Sure. With the last one being tomorrow."
Kino: "I don’t think there is anyone who know how or when the world is going to end. It would be too easy."
Hermes: "But what would you be doing if the world was really going to end tomorrow"
Kino: "The exact same thing I’m doing right now."
Kino: "While everything out there is changing and progressing, the insects singing to the sky remains constant. The only thing that’s certain. The only thing that’s ceaseless and endures."
Hermes: "What’s wrong Kino?"
Kino: You know Hermes, sometimes a traveler also explores their mind.
"Though I did not know the place,
I set out to find the land of my dreams,
Having arrived at the land of my dreams,
I found that I did not know the place."
The Author: "The difference between reality and illusion is that illusions are which humans have created. Life begins when u make a distinction between yourself and others. From that moment, the world becomes a stage in which you are the main character. Yet all people exist in the illusion that they are the main character. But the world, cruel as it is, denies you that role of the main character. It’s quite a twist and everyone is burdened with this sad bit of irony. But there is one way to escape."
Kino: To not to be a main character, to be a smaller role, or…
The Author: "That’s right, to be an author."
Hermes: "You do know he’s crazy right?"
Kino: "All I know is that normal people would never become authors."
Chief Librarian: "In the hall, there are the critics. We try to keep them away from everyone else, because all they do is expound their store of knowledge. They excite themselves with their ranting, the disapproval fills them with the feeling of importance and sick victory, they thrive on spoiling the pleasure and thrashing the creativity of others."
"The world is not beautiful; and that, in a way, lends it a sort of beauty."
Monday, April 6, 2009
Traveler's Song
...From Kino no Tabi
"Let my desires fly along on a wing
along with my dreams, alone so it seems
Thoughts from the heart on a pure spring day
my mind floats away, on a dream so they say
Deep in your smile I see the world seeing me
I'm free to be free, to be what I be
When my heart's aching and it's shallow on love
I gaze to the doves, and find it above."
It's such a nice little song.
"Let my desires fly along on a wing
along with my dreams, alone so it seems
Thoughts from the heart on a pure spring day
my mind floats away, on a dream so they say
Deep in your smile I see the world seeing me
I'm free to be free, to be what I be
When my heart's aching and it's shallow on love
I gaze to the doves, and find it above."
It's such a nice little song.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Give and take...remember?
That's what it's about. It's okay though, I think, sometimes we all need a reminder. But enough is enough...illusions and dreams are pretty but in the end that's all they are... intangeble...eluding...and sometimes....taunting.
And therefore, I wish to be absolved of them...for awhile, if I can. I want to live with my eyes a little more uncovered. A little more...free to see other things.
For all i could see was atrocity, and farce.
I want to see more good things.
Things that are real...
without the strings of deceit.
to see things as they are...
even though the world is not beautiful,
that, in a way,
lends it a sort of beauty.
And therefore, I wish to be absolved of them...for awhile, if I can. I want to live with my eyes a little more uncovered. A little more...free to see other things.
For all i could see was atrocity, and farce.
I want to see more good things.
Things that are real...
without the strings of deceit.
to see things as they are...
even though the world is not beautiful,
that, in a way,
lends it a sort of beauty.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
the Chase of Reconciliation
Flying, fleeting, the road overhead
scars through lunging, winding grass that
offers daisies to a jubilant sun
cloaked by proud and royal storm clouds
the atmosphere wavers to a
riotous wind, challenging every
color of life to show itself in thef
ace of a traveler's perception.
and somehow the pistons mutter on
carving invisible threads of where and when
through summer soaked asphalt and a
migrant's heart to venture on
such star guided aimlessness..
grants the whole world to an
otherwise destitute individual
with nothing in her hands but restlessness
the toxic noise of origins
bubble from the cracks
it pursues as the hound
disdainfully relentless in it's wake.
and there is no mainstay from this living scorn.
only the road
offers the slightest fragrance of salvation
through the smoldering ash upon it.
scars through lunging, winding grass that
offers daisies to a jubilant sun
cloaked by proud and royal storm clouds
the atmosphere wavers to a
riotous wind, challenging every
color of life to show itself in thef
ace of a traveler's perception.
and somehow the pistons mutter on
carving invisible threads of where and when
through summer soaked asphalt and a
migrant's heart to venture on
such star guided aimlessness..
grants the whole world to an
otherwise destitute individual
with nothing in her hands but restlessness
the toxic noise of origins
bubble from the cracks
it pursues as the hound
disdainfully relentless in it's wake.
and there is no mainstay from this living scorn.
only the road
offers the slightest fragrance of salvation
through the smoldering ash upon it.
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
A day in my mind
The memories...
are rather heavy today.
It is simply one of those days.
I can still shield my eyes against the vivid sun; and the waves gently dance.
Hand in hand the memories run.
The laughter is there, yet drowned by the violins...
as we run.
I can still see your smiles. I can still feel the sun. I can still taste the ocean, and sand as we run.
Hand in hand the shore lay ahead, eternally spinning under our soles
I recall how the breeze would toss your hair,
how we'd stumble o'er the foam...
as we run.
It feels so long ago.
yet so heavily near
in this moment
that day,
...and nevermore.
are rather heavy today.
It is simply one of those days.
I can still shield my eyes against the vivid sun; and the waves gently dance.
Hand in hand the memories run.
The laughter is there, yet drowned by the violins...
as we run.
I can still see your smiles. I can still feel the sun. I can still taste the ocean, and sand as we run.
Hand in hand the shore lay ahead, eternally spinning under our soles
I recall how the breeze would toss your hair,
how we'd stumble o'er the foam...
as we run.
It feels so long ago.
yet so heavily near
in this moment
that day,
...and nevermore.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Monday, October 27, 2008
The Affairs of Vicissitude
Fallen are the leaves of contemplation
as unstoppable as the sun.
The familiar tastes never leave,
ever lingering as wine.
Music soothes and completes
when there is no solace to be found
from ones' own
ceaseless
stream
of
consciousness.
Relentless is the knowledge
of things preferred forgotten
Yet once the tastes were known
I could not choose to be ignorant of it again.
This I know.
and this I will always know.
Thrums of the sound waves
expand across the page
ripples ever growing
until nothingness is gained.
and I laugh.
How familiar...
how very familiar.
Fallen are the leaves of contemplation.
I catch them in my fingertips,
and never let them go.
And the tastes of wine
still linger
despite a specter's dream.
as unstoppable as the sun.
The familiar tastes never leave,
ever lingering as wine.
Music soothes and completes
when there is no solace to be found
from ones' own
ceaseless
stream
of
consciousness.
Relentless is the knowledge
of things preferred forgotten
Yet once the tastes were known
I could not choose to be ignorant of it again.
This I know.
and this I will always know.
Thrums of the sound waves
expand across the page
ripples ever growing
until nothingness is gained.
and I laugh.
How familiar...
how very familiar.
Fallen are the leaves of contemplation.
I catch them in my fingertips,
and never let them go.
And the tastes of wine
still linger
despite a specter's dream.
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