… or feel it, untill we find it.
you know that theory that you can only see what you know ?
that our minds can only conceive of what we have already found,
and that we are blind to the unknown until it has been discovered.
for example the universe being infinite,
the finding of the new world by the explorers,
or the globe turning out to be round and not flat…..
these are the types of mind blowing things
that have been discovered by our human race,
that could have never been conceived of until they were discovered.
2005 has presented some profound new things to me,
i am so grateful and in awe.
things i didn’t know could exist,
i didn’t doubt they existed, i just really had not been able to imagine them…
love and music,
always the things to blow my mind.
halle-fucking-lujah
love and music to you all!
the infinite wonders of our world.
xMAdMx
hey Melissa, new satellite of the Saturn has been discovered it’s so fantastic don’t you think? The space is so amazing !!!
I am working on my music now and I have a good time
That picture looks like something from an old Urge Overkill album.
Hi Melissa, love and music for you also!!! Premièrement, je ne voudrais en aucun moment t’offusquer par le fait d’utiliser ce blog pour te poser quelques questions mais la compréhension est parfois la résultante de l’explication. J’aurais voulu connaître le processus de conception de ton nouvel album. Est-ce les paroles ou la musique que tu composes en premier, te faut-il beaucoup de temps pour la création d’une chanson? Est-ce plus facile pour toi de travailler en studio ou en retrait, exemple : dans un endroit éloigné de la ville. Quels sont les équipements que tu utilises pendant l’élaboration de l’album? La participation de collaborateurs… Enfin, jusqu’a quel point tu peux incorporer de ta propre personne (coeur, âme et conscience) au sein de ta musique? Je te laisserai donc sur cela en te saluant de nouveau et en te souhaitant de vivre pleinement ce que tu désires!!!
ps: tu peux me répondre en anglais!
http://donflag.blogspot.com/
I have an excellent blog about music ! You’re in Mrs Auf Der Maur!
Enjoy !!!
say something real…
Lovely to see your new post. What wisdom and wit you posess. I look forward to the discovery of new and profound things with a fire and find them almost every moment of every day.
I agree whole-heartedly there mate. I’ve had many a bad and blind year, but haven’t we all? Chick, 2005 is shaping up to to one hell of a year. I only wish you weren’t so bloody far away. I would love to cook you dinner…
Oh yeah, there’s this as well…
Booze
The Madrokk lifted the crate’s lid and gazed longingly upon the shiny glass bottles within; each filled with a clear light-brown fluid.
“Mama!” he breathed.
Gruyere was well aquatinted with the expression now playing on his friend’s face. “Well, um-, I guess I’ll be getting back to the hole. My wife will be waiting.”
“Ayupp!” replied the Madrokk, not looking up.
The mouse scuttled down the back of the comfy chair, waved good-bye, then split the room faster than you could say ‘Rumplestilskin.’
The Madrokk picked a bottle at random, and held it up. He enjoyed watching the refraction of light through glass-encased liquid. He felt it was somehow symbolic of something, but he wasn’t quite sure what. Never mind. He had found the crate of booze several years ago and of all the junk he’d rescued from the sea, the bottles had proven to be among the most interesting.
To many, immortality might seem to be a precious gift, for unending life meant ‘time’; of which there was never enough. To the Madrokk immortality meant simply nothing more than boredom. Mind-bending, will-sapping boredom. Time was neither his enemy nor his friend. He was free of its tyrannical yoke. Time was like the busy neighbour who lived down the road; their relationship consisted of polite acknowledgement from afar, without formal introduction.
So he liked to get drunk.
Nevertheless, this was just killing time, because time could not kill him.
There was always the moon of course. Boon and bane: sustenance, deprivation, faith, hope, sorrow, misery and redemption; a constant, self-perpetuating cycle of emotional seasons.
But no warmth, no touch.
He closed the lid and, cradling the chosen bottle in his arms as if it were a child, went to his arm chair and sat down. This was the part of the evening that he enjoyed the most; the anticipation. Feeling the bottle’s glassy smoothness in his hands, he had a wonderful presentiment that it was going to be the best he’d ever imbibed.
He had, however, thought this before.
Having dispensed with the usual preliminary rituals, he popped the cork. The pungent aroma of ancient liquor filled the room with a gassy exhalation.
“Woof!” he said, wincing.
He took a large swig, and his face shrivelled up on itself like a spring flower in a baker’s oven. The booze was a river of fire coursing a bitter trail down the back of his throat.
“Indians!” he gagged.
He closed his eyes and took another drink.
And another.
And yet again.
His head began to feel luxuriantly detached from the rest of his body, as if floating suspended in the air above his neck. A warm, gentle sensation began to brew in the pit of his stomach, sending out fluffy, comforting waves through his tired frame.
The twisted knot of flesh that was his mind, loosened up a little.
Another drink and he felt magnanimously expansive. In a moment he would put pen to paper and write a lyrical ballad of unbridled passion, or perhaps an incisive treatise on the meaning of the universe.
Instead, he had another drink.
A tasty little dram swirled about the dark cavern of his mouth, and the fuzzy colours of his anointed mind moved by soft degrees to a vibrant, yet soothing lavender.
He began to drool.
Ever so slightly.
Two quick gulps and a swallow changed lavender to burgundy. Packing his insides like a big, dark-red pillow.
Then–
A quiet and unobtrusive little sip.
The red pillow began to grow, larger and larger, until his head felt ready to blow apart; flinging the reeling contents of his skull across the sparkling walls of the study.
He slumped down in his chair.
A final chug and a choked gargle drained the bottle. His big red pillow exploded in sharp silence; releasing a cloud of tiny dark feathers. They carpeted the floor of his cerebellum with a thick, soft layer; the hue and tone of midnight. The empty bottle slipped from his hand to the floor, and he quietly slipped away from his chair, his study, his tower, and the world. Venturing boldly into the blessed realm of drunken unconsciousness.
ZZZZZZZ…
Much later he found himself sitting on a small hill with his back against a palm tree. It was the dead of night, and a quiet stillness reigned over the world. Feeling confused, he gazed blearily up through the jagged palm fronds and coconuts above his head. The sky was alive with stars. Billions upon billions of the little varmints. Their quiet, manifold twinkling seemed suffused with friendship and understanding.
The moon was there as well; illuminating the hill with a silver-white sheen of incandescent good will.
“Hello.” said the moon.
The Madrokk blew a fuse. She spoke! She spoke! The soft echo of her words touched lightly through the disordered rooms of his mind like an celestial housemaid; restoring his dusty mental furniture to its original finish and shine! Did he dream?! But no, he had never before felt so aware, so alive! He could feel the bark of the palm tree pressing coarsely against his back, the soft prickle of grass beneath his hands and butt! He sniffed the air; was that not the elusive scent of frankincense and myrrh wafting along on the cool night breeze?
‘What in the world are frankincense and myrrh?’ he thought suddenly.
“I have been waiting for you for such a long time, my love.” said the moon, spinning flirtatiously around to her first quarter phase.
“And I have been waiting for you!” he cried, getting up to his feet. “I have lived a millennia in expectation of this moment! Waiting for so long that I can comprehend nothing else!”
“Your passion is too strong and volatile a thing.” answered the moon, turning to a thin crescent. “If it were to be set alight, it might consume the entire world in its hungry flame.”
“You frighten me.”
The Madrokk stopped in mid-rant. Nothing moved; not a finger, not a toe. His eyes did not blink, and he kept his breathing low. “But-you have nothing to fear from me, my beloved. My only desire is to join with you, to rise above the pointless reality of my earth-bound existence, to share with you the secrets of the heavens!”
The moon showed him her gibbous face, her countenance coloured with an expression of pity. “As do all creatures who walk the land. There is much which you do not understand, much that you must relearn. The knowledge that was once yours has been driven into a dark corner of your mind by an unseen hand.”
The Madrokk felt dejection grip his soul like an vice. What was she saying to him?! What did she mean? Crying out in frustration, he stamped the ground beneath his feet,like a petulant child. He turned, grasped the bole of the palm tree and smashed his skull against its rough bark.
A coconut dropped from the tree and bounced off his head with a hollow THUNK!
“OUCH!” he cried, glancing back up at the moon, who was once again at her full. “You speak in riddles. How am I supposed to understand that which is unknown to me? How am I to decipher the indecipherable?”
“Follow me.” she said, moving slowly away from him. “Follow me and you will understand.”
He leapt to his feet. She was going! Leaving! In a blind panic he raced down the hill and onto a dark plain of grass; his boots tearing into the springy turf. Up-Down-Up-Down-Up-Down-Up-Down- he sped across the plain like an arrow released from a bow, his eyes fixed ahead on the glowing sphere of his desire. His heart pounded with a mighty rhythm and his lungs were like great bellows; drawing in and expelling the air with the force of a hurricane wind.
Still, he could not catch her up.
He was losing her!!
Suddenly, the ground fell away beneath his charging feet. With a startled yelp, he tumbled down an unexpected slope; cutting his himself on a cascade of loose rocks and shale. When he finally rolled to a stop, he found a barren landscape. There was no longer any sign of grass, only a desert of rock and stone. Gravel. Rocks. Boulders. Great shadowed forms loomed menacingly around him like adamantine shrubberies.
Adamantine shrubberies?
The ground semed to throb and pulse beneath his hands, as if in sympathy with his pain.
And, it was getting dark.
He looked up; the moon was rapidly disappearing from sight. Cursing his luck he got back on his feet and carried on, dodging the larger rocks and stones as best he could.
But now he felt exhausted.
Weary.
He fought off the urge to lie down amongst the scabrous, hard-edged rubble and go to sleep. He couldn’t catch his breath and his heart faltered; its stammering rhythm now sporadic. He put his head down and pushed, pushed, pushed, but his progress became more laboured with every step, as if he were trying to climb a long, steep grade. He tried to raise his head, but as he did so the ground beneath and sky above swapped their respective designated positions with a sickening global somersault.
He was now dangling from a small ledge half-way up a high plateau; several hundred feet above the desert floor!
‘This is getting weird.’ he thought.
Undaunted, he began to climb. Grasp! Pull! Tug! Grasp! Silent and near invisible clouds of dust rose in his wake; following him and stinging his eyes. The only sounds in his ears; the crash, rattle and bang of dislodged stone sent rolling down the slope by his frenzied thrash-and-grope for purchase.
The effluvium of his aggravated ascent.
It was difficult to see, but he reckoned he was near the top. The moon had long since passed behind the height of the escarpment; taking her light with her, yet the stars still shone down from above. However, they no longer appeared either friendly or helpful. Their cold twinkling seemed now to mock and scoff at his efforts, rather than encourage.
Why had it seemed otherwise before?
With a final burst of manic scrabbling, he managed to haul his body over the final ledge and collapse on the flat shelf of the top. He lay there for a time, gasping for air; his arms and legs shaking from the exertion of the climb.
Finally, he looked up and found himself face to face with a Walrus.
The Walrus reclined comfortably in a large bathtub full of steaming water. Gathered around him were a dozen small egg-shaped humanoids, each holding a tiny candle in their little hands. They stared at the Madrokk with inquisitive yellow eyes.
The Madrokk sat up while the Walrus watched him with a cool, methodical expression; the smoke from his pipe combining with the steam of the bath water to form a translucent grey scarf which wreathed his wrinkled head. His tusks gleamed dully in the light of the Egg-men’s candles, as did the smooth, shiny surface of his sequinned waist coat.
“Hullo thare!” boomed the Walrus in a hearty baritone.
“Goo-goo!” piped in half the egg-men.
“Goo-joob!” replied the other half.
“Hello.” answered the Madrokk.
The Walrus pulled a monocle from his waistcoat, and perched it dangling on his left eye. The eye appeared to grow large through the magnification of the glass like a large chocolate biscuit, and he surveyed the sweaty Madrokk with a penetrating glance.
“Where are you going in such a Grok-awful rush my boy? Where is the fire?”
“I-um, well–” mumbled the Madrokk. Where was he going? WHAT WAS HE DOING HERE? It seemed like years since he could remember why he did anything.
“I don’t recall–”
“Perhaps something to do with the moon-?” prompted the Walrus with a knowing smile.
This comment set off a tittering flurry of sniggers from the egg-men that the Walrus silenced with a sharp wave of a flipper. He then turned back to the Madrokk with raised eyebrows.
“Why, um, YES! That’s right–” cried the Madrokk. “I am her betrothed. I think she came this way, in fact–no, I am quite sure that she must have. I-I don’t suppose you have seen her..?”
“Actually–.” said the Walrus, feigning indifference. “I do seem to remember her passing this way some time ago. She was in an awful rush as well. However it seemed more like she was fleeing something unpleasant, rather than leading someone on a merry chase.”
“What are you implying?!” asked the Madrokk indignantly.
“I am not trying to imply or infer anything my dear, distraught little waif! Implications and subtle inferences are simply not my bag! Besides, when was the last time you spoke to a Walrus?”
“She beseeched me to follow her!” retorted the Madrokk. “She was going to show me something that would help me understand–.”
The Walrus placed his pipe on top of his head, and stuck out his tongue. “To understand is to see, but to see is not necessarily to understand.”
The egg men hurriedly formed a human pyramid (so to speak) and began to sing:
“Break ‘em,
Fry ‘em-
Sauté’ and toast ‘em!
Imply and infer-
Suggest and concur!
An egg on your face,
An egg singing rhyme!
If you’re in the wrong place,
Then you better learn to fly!”
The Walrus applauded. “Wonderful, wonderful! Pure genius!” He turned his attention back to the Madrokk, “What did you think?”
“I have no time for riddles!” shouted the Madrokk in exasperation. “Already she has left me behind as I sit here talking nonsense. She travels lightly through the air, whereas I must journey over the treacherous folds and pits of the land!”
“Well, you know your own business, presumably. However that which you seek is not always what you will find.”
“I’ll try and bear that in mind.” replied the Madrokk, more eager than ever to get away from this obtuse sea mammal. “But could you please just tell me where she went?”
The Walrus turned around the tub and pointed a flipper into the surrounding darkness. “The one you seek fled eastward.”
The egg men’s pyramid collapsed in a mad ‘scramble’ of squeaks, cracked shells and sticky yolk.
“THAT WAY YONDER!” cried the Walrus, a fat tear rolling down one of his flabby cheeks. “That way, towards yon marshes! Methinks thou hath best don thine galoshes!”
“Thank-you.” said the Madrokk, taking off.
The night closed around as he moved away from the faint light of the egg men’s candles. Soon he was lost, yet he blundered on, but the atmosphere became increasingly damp and foetid, and the ground beneath his boots turned to muck; slowing his progress. Then there was mist; a pale, half-seen effulgent exhalation floating in the air before his eyes. Its dank tendrils enveloped him as he passed through, rolling clammily over his skin as if seeking warmth. The world turned grey, and he began to see vague, incongruous shapes in the gloom.
Grotesque plants with sharp thorns, smooth fleshy stalks.
His foot disappeared into a pool with a slimy gurgle. Crying out in disgust, he pulled back as a giant frog rose up from the brackish waters in response.
“Little fly! Little fly!” cried the frog with a green, slavering grin. “Why do you cry little fly? Why do you try little fly?”
“Your life is a lie!”
The frog’s tongue whipped out at the Madrokk like a red snake, and he ducked away with a cry of alarm. The frog laughed and rolled back his tongue; opening its mouth wide to reveal a wriggling mass of maggots.
“Mea culpa! Mea culpa!” sang the maggots.
The Madrokk stumbled away and dove through a tangled wall of tearing thorns.
Then his eyes snapped open to a photonic barrage of bright light. Wincing, he turned away; then realised he was back in his study! The empty bottle of booze lay on the floor.
He leaned forward and groaned.
Then his stomach did a double-back, rolling somersault.
“OOglumppPHHH!” he replied and stood up on llegs of rubber. He stumbled out the door, spinning his way along the corridor and down the stairs; his grasping hands warding off the thick stone walls which suddenly seemed to press in on him.
Ground floor.
His front hall passed in a blur of wood-panelling and umbrella stands.
Front door; closed.
Then open.
Out.
Fresh sea breeze, warm sunshine.
Gloriously bright morning-
–then vomit.
Hehe, I know what you mean Melissa. The world and universe is a crazy place. I try not to think about it too much or it will boggle me!
P.S I hope you enjoyed Our re-make or Real a Lie video
aaah you crack him up with that hallelujah…silly melissa…
Now get back to that album!
!
it’s amazing what we find when we open our eyes and our minds. hope the new year is treating you well. good luck with everything
I’m happy to hear you’re a having a great year. I’m sure you deserve all that and much more.
Huge hug!
You have one of the most uplifting blogs EVER! I love your outlook.
I also just noticed your link to Autolux. I saw them play a couple of weeks ago and was utterly, utterly hooked. Everyone should hear them, they’re delicious!
Melissa, I LOVE those videos, they’re so frickin funny
I love you making those videos & updating this blog. make some more. now. hurry. & finish the album too. I love you.
Olá Melissa,
eu realmente adoro tudo o que você escreve.
você cada dia se supera.
amo tudo o que você faz.
um grande abraço.
Espero vê-la tocando aqui no Brasil.
Eder Lacerda
Brazil
ederlacerda@hotmail.com
so i have to ask what will you expect from next years?
everything is changing; since the very first thing appeared on universe. things will happen in future like in past and again human figurad out what will happen, peace-war-technological-fulfilled with love-future with fobias… no one knows, only soothsayers. in addition, i hate them:) i think they re the ones who tells the conclusion part while you re watching a film in a cinema…
anyway, im happy to see you like this:)
ps:please come to turkeeeey!
please…
That will be a gin and tonic, two limes, hold the adulations, laugh harder!
Hi Melissa.
I’m handing you a musical baton. Run with it!
In other words, where water resembles time:
Imagine first time walking around a beautiful lake with water-lilys covering 1/16 of the surface, everything still looks nice.
But as the water-lilys will be doubled in numbers for every time you´ve completed your walk around the lake, it won´t take long until only 1/2 of the water in the lake still remains visible.
As we now might be on the final walk around our beautiful lake, no one can tell how many years that´s remaining before we reach the point where there´s no water left to be seen.
So I totally agree with you Melissa, enjoy love and music as “the infinite wonders of our world”.
Hi Melissa
Reading that post made be feel really warm and fuzzy. Mostly because I relate so much to what you mention about realizations and learning new things that you couldnt previously comprehend…. even at age 18.
What crazy thing happened to me?
Age 15… summer 2002. I was diagnosed with cancer. 10 months of chemo, radiation, and a couple surgeries ensued to cure a massive growth on my leg. And… that was crappy…. but the thing that completely shifted my entire being was when I discovered the other kids in my position. Thanks to the internet, I stumbled upon websites for kids with diseases… and its just horrible. So many kids with no one to talk to… so they resort to the internet, and even there they arent always too lucky. And you get to thinking…. your a 14 year old kid… and you’ve been on chemo for 4 years… what would you do if you were that person? Some of these kids make my battle with cancer look like a joyride.
And through these kids, I also learned the even grimmer details. Some people I got very very close with…. and they didnt make it. I cant express how painful some of my nights were… wondering why people so youthful with such untapped potential must pass so soon. It was a messy thing to first have to deal with… but at my age, I now feel like I carry much more wisdom than I would if I’d never been stricken with disease.
So… yeah… I’ve been down the road. And I will be many times again. Thanks for triggering that little side of me.
And thanks for the music
~Evan
Thank you…
more than I can say
and more than you can know.
There is meaning…
Mademoiselle, did you just discover the Cave by Plato or have you been reading some Descartes?? Are you going all philosophical on us? Hhhmmm interesting… The world turns out to be not quite as we thought it would be how about that!
melissa i think your great in many ways but……….. (i don’t know you so i can’t say much)
..you don’t half talk shit when it comes to science and all that crap.
Yes Melissa, I am familiar with the concepts involved with only being able to know what you know so to speak. It’s particularly interesting in dreams, can you actually dream something that you have not in some sense often metaphorically seen before.
The answers are not clear but just when you think you’ve seen either the best or the worst or the weirdest or most unexpected things then something happens that just totally and utterly amazes you, it’s a head trip I know.
A bit daunting really.
To me.
hen kao hisng neng kan dao ni lai Taiwan.(this means:I’m excited that you are going to play in taiwan
)
It’s so hot in Taiwan . I hope u can have lots of fun here.
I skim a lot of blogs, and so far yours is in the Top 3 of my list of favorites. I’m going to dive in and try my hand at it, so wish me luck.
It’ll be in a totally different area than yours (mine is about mens male enhancement reviews) I know, it sounds strange, but it’s like anything, once you learn more about it, it’s pretty cool. It’s mostly about mens male enhancement reviews related articles and subjects.
Looking for cancer de mama information I came across this post. I totally agree with you and would feel the same way!
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I was searching for Elvis and somehow ended up in your blog, but you know I’m sure I saw Elvis in the supermarket yesterday.
No honest really, he was right there in front of me, next to the steaks singing “Love me Tender”.
He said to me (his lip was only slightly curled) “Boy, you need to get yourself a shiny, new plasmatv to go with that blue suede sofa of yours.
But Elvis said I, In the Ghetto nobody has a plasma tv .
Dude I’m All Shook Up said Elvis. I think I’ll have me another cheeseburger then I’m gonna go home and ask Michael Jackson to come round and watch that waaaay cool surfing scene in Apocalypse Now on my new plasma tv .
And then he just walked out of the supermarket singing. . .
“You give me love and consolation,
You give me strength to carry on “
Strange day or what?
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