Monthly Archives: September 2007

weight of words

collective soul‘s songs comfort me always. whenever i listen to their songs, i drift towards a place where i feel most happy. i never knew that this song had this phrase. imagine my surprise when i heard the phrase weight of words from their song, needs.

if it weren’t for my in-ears earphones (courtesy of how-paw’s digital walker store), i wouldn’t have picked up that phrase. talk about finding kinship in a great song roughly a year after birthing this blog. not to mention that some of the phrases in this song speak strongly of my search for Him amidst the din of days. life is such a sucker for kinship and coincidences, and i am almost always glad of its surprises.

Collective Soul

All around me I see what weakness has made
Too much tomorrow I think I’ll take all today
Am I a poison, Am I a thorn in the side
Am I a picture, perfect subject tonight

I don’t need nobody
I don’t need the weight of words to find a way
To crash on through
I don’t need nobody
I just need to learn the depth
Or doubt of faith to fall into

Here I slumber to awaken my daze
I find convenience in this savior I save
Am I a prison, Am I a source of dire news
Am I a picture perfect reason for you

I don’t need nobody
I don’t need the weight of words to find a way
To crash on through
I don’t need nobody
I just need to learn the depth or doubt
Of faith to fall into

In this time of substitute
It’s my needs I’ve answered to (All the while)
And the hope that I invest
Still turns to signals of distress (All the while)

I don’t need nobody
I don’t need the weight of words to find a way
To crash on through
I don’t need nobody
I just need to learn the depth or doubt
Of faith to fall into

You’re all I need
When the water runs deep
You’re all I need
Now I cry my soul to sleep
You’re all I need

poem_variations on the word sleep

i’ve been meaning to post one of the poems that moved me with tremendous force ever, but i never got around to doing it. similar to having a last-song syndrome, i’ve been having the last part of the poem echoing within me for the last few weeks. i never got around to posting it, until i stumbled upon a blog quoting that very same part. right then and there, i knew i had to give justice to the poem by sharing it with you.

so if you are a daughter, a son, a father, a mother, a beautiful lover, a wonderful giver, a husband, a wife, you will want to play this part, you will want to be the one entering somebody’s sleep. and i pray that you have someone pictured in your mind while reading this poem. it’s for you to come in full circle.

Variations on the Word Sleep
Margaret Atwood

I would like to watch you sleeping,
which may not happen.
I would like to watch you,
sleeping. I would like to sleep
with you, to enter
your sleep as its smooth dark wave
slides over my head.

and walk with you through that lucent
wavering forest of bluegreen leaves
with its watery sun & three moons
towards the cave where you must descend,
towards your worst fear

I would like to give you the silver
branch, the small white flower, the one
word that will protect you
from the grief at the center
of your dream, from the grief
at the center. I would like to follow
you up the long stairway
again & become
the boat that would row you back
carefully, a flame
in two cupped hands
to where your body lies
beside you, and you enter
it as easily as beathing in

I would like to be the air
that inhabits you for a moment
only. I would like to be that unnoticed
& that necessary.

And for you, you who love the real me despite my physical limp, my back illness, my different sorts of blindness, my tenacity to wage war at different levels, my dangerous undertow, my being the saddest girl to hold a bottle, “I would like to be the air/that inhabits you for a moment/only. I would like to be that unnoticed/and that necessary.”


belated happy birthday, beleny. you are my favorite ob-gyne in the making. here’s to future hilarious check-ups with you. hey, you owe me a “real” birthday card. i miss that ritual. 🙂 you are the only one who can get away with calling me “tadpole.” 🙂 hug, hug!

one of my peter pans has slowly grown up and has lost lots of sleep for it

another title option: this entry shamelessly worships a boy named daniel johns

silverchair was just another garage band nursing a homey band name when they were catapulted to fame. their song, tomorrow won a contest and was then released to the hungry world by a radio network. in 1995, they released their first album, Frogstomp (whose album design ranks in my collection of greatest sleeve designs, of which nirvana’s and smashin pumpkins crowd around for equal glory).


in 1995, in my own corner, i was in grade 7 and was devouring rock music thrown my way. silverchair was served to me, i ate their songs up, and i had the all-time high of a teenager wistfully angry.


i remain faithful to daniel johns, the demi-god of my high school days. it’s been a dizzying ride since 1995, and one of the things i hold on to are the creases of his jeans lest i dash my ankle against the pavement.

fast forward to 2007 with his young modern album. insert garbage’s song here: “hear your voice everytime that i’m talking….”

(chronology of silverchair’s albums: frogstomp, freakshow, neon, ballroom, diorama, young modern). as if you care. 🙂

eva is listening to: pure massacre (frogstomp) = pure bliss