From The Manifesto of The Selfish

Because altruists are the least sexy
people on earth, unable
to say “I want” without embarrassment,

we need to take from them everything
they give,
then ask for more,

this is how to excite them, and because
it’s exciting
to see them the least bit excited

once again we’ll be doing something
for ourselves,
who have no problem taking pleasure,

always desirous and so pleased to be
pleased, we who above all
can be trusted to keep the balance.

-stephen dunn

Mon Semblable

No man has ever dared to describe himself as he truly is.—Camus

I like things my way
every chance I get.
A limit doesn’t exist

when it comes to that.
But please, don’t confuse
what I say with honesty.

Isn’t honesty the open yawn
the unimaginable love
more than truth?

Anonymous among strangers
I look for those
with hidden wings,

and for scars
that those who once had wings
can’t hide.

Though I know it’s unfair,
I reveal myself
one mask at a time.

Does this appeal to you,
such slow disclosures,
a lifetime perhaps

of almost knowing one another?
I would hope you, too,
would hold something back,

and that you’d always want
whatever unequal share
you had style enough to get.

Altruism is for those
who can’t endure their desires.
There’s a world

as ambiguous as a moan,
a pleasure moan
our earnest neighbors

might think a crime.
It’s where we could live.
I’ll say I love you,

which will lead, of course,
to disappointment,
but those words unsaid

poison every next moment.
I will try to disappoint you
better than anyone ever has.

—Stephen Dunn

“Winter”—Joshua Radin

I should know who I am by now
I walk the record stand somehow
Thinkin’ of winter
The name is the splinter inside me
While I wait

And I remember the sound
Of your November downtown
And I remember the truth
A warm December with you

But I don’t have to make this mistake
And I don’t have to stay this way
If only I would wake

The walk has all been cleared by now
Your voice is all I hear somehow
Calling out winter
Your voice is the splinter inside me
While I wait

And I remember the sound
Of your November downtown
And I remember the truth
A warm December with you
But I don’t have to make this mistake
And I don’t have to stay this way
If only I would wake

I could have lost myself
In rough blue waters in your eyes
And I miss you still

Oh I remember the sound
Of your November downtown
And I remember the truth
A warm December with you
But I don’t have to make this mistake
And I don’t have to stay this way
If only I would wake

joshisinfinite:

herestothehalcyon:

barelysarcasm:

Ben Kweller - Sundress

It’s gorgeous and blue skies outside and it’s seventy two and I’m missing someone so what do I do?  I do everything you want me to.

Look out, world!

“Konstantine”—Something Corporate

I’ve seen this song post here a lot lately and I even reblogged it last week. It’s one of my favorites.  But what I’ve seen posted is not the version I have, which I had taken to believe was the version released on the album. At any rate, unless you’re a geek you probably won’t care about the different versions, but this one has some minor lyrical differences and is live. I find it more emotive and, therefore, than the studio version.

For what I wrote about this the other day, see here.

onebadapple:

www.theselby.com

Actually, I sort of do.

“You Can Make Him Like You”—The Hold Steady

I had resisted the desire to use an external host that would enable me to post more than one song a day. I like writing a bit about each song and living with the draconian Tumblr edicts forced me to think carefully about what to post and why.

But since I have no self-control ever, about anything, I succumbed and got a host. Thanks to joshisinfinite for his help.

I still endeavor to be selective about what I post and not to abuse this new power. I’m no whore.

Update: It doesn’t seem to be working. Not sure why. I’ll fuck around with it later.

joshisinfinite:

you being in love
will tell who softly asks in love,

am i separated from your body smile brain hands merely
to become the jumping puppets of a dream? oh i mean:
entirely having in my careful how
careful arms created this at length
inexcusable, this inexplicable pleasure—you go from several
persons: believe me that strangers arrive
when i have kissed you into a memory
slowly, oh seriously
—that since and if you disappear

solemnly
myselves
ask “life, the question how do i drink dream smile

and how do i prefer this face to another and
why do i weep eat sleep—what does the whole intend”
they wonder. oh and they cry “to be, being, that i am alive
this absurd fraction in its lowest terms
with everything cancelled
but shadows
—what does it all come down to? love? Love
if you like and i like,for the reason that i
hate people and lean out of this window is love, love
and the reason that i laugh and breathe is oh love and the reason
that i do not fall into this street is love.”