i told you id be here

cliche. lets examine what were afraid of repeating.

a phrase or opinion that is overused and betrays a lack of original thought.

have we gotten to that?
have we put ourselves so far beyond into the potential of what could
that we can no longer derive our own words to express the things
that we have spoken again and again that the fact
that we say in repetious fashion derived by the outstanding mind

that we cannot continue

my mind is in a state
that i can't be me in any place.

Making Shit is Easy

It is. It just takes time.

Here i am again anonymous world! Here i am with nothing much to say except

making shit is easy and i can't keep up with all the things in the world that make me dance. Wowzers.

like this, whole thing, all right there, just one little site with a whole lotta brilliance and work behind it.

Wooster Collective.com

Damon Ginandes
Red Hook, Brooklyn

anyway, i was going to write a letter. that's what i was doing originally. Originally, we were all doing something.




Happiness isn't something you go out hunting for, it's not something you end up finding. It's uncovering what's already there.

the nomad to the vagrant, and a lover's real estate

we long to live, to travel, to seek the new and obscure
we tend to do it, humbly, without pride in standoff, but pride in the aptitude
of courage as a fearful lion; those demons in which we do not know
are much more promising than those we already succumb to.

theft from this place challenges the mortal pockets from which it came
bottles empty, rooms vacant, streaming sounds from instruments without strings
drain drink suck away from dues never repaid
even in gratitude, great things great thinkers spent forever to explain
the wise sit still while the facts are laid out with

A+B=C.

i remember still driving in a silver and blue GMC Safari
through a small town, lined with quaint restaurants, craving to make sense of cute boys.
i remember thinking about my sister in college as i write her down into pages of a notebook that never get filled. it was warm i imagine. things were green. to have her on my mind meant that we were somewhere in Iowa, or Georgia, or a place i have no idea where.
But i feel, there.

I remember still a restaurant, dark, narrow, with high ceilings. The walls painted a shade of blue like the blurred vision of a starry night. I remember a table in the front corner, a lip of the tri-walled space spilling out onto the more warmly lighted entrance. I ate soup in a sourdough breadbowl for the first time. The place, wherever it was was different than that van.

I remember stewed tomatoes in a cellar at williamsburg, after we saw people dressed in costume, living the life of lives spent and dad saying that he didn't much care for stewed tomatoes. I love stewed tomatoes.

if we lose our memory, do we lose our minds?

57% of your saturated fat intake
based on a % daily value
of pride.

happy anniversary, darling

When people talk, listen completely. Dont be thinking what you're going to say next.
Most people never listen.
Nor do they observe.
You should be able to go into a room and when you come out
know everything that you saw there and not only that.
If that room gave you any feeling, you should know exactly what it was
that gave you that feeling.
Try that for practice.
When you're in town stand outside the theater
and see how the people differ in the way
they get out of taxis and motor cars.

There are a thousand ways to practice
getting in to somebody else's head for a change.

what i could have said

if you'd slow down a minute to let me finish.

If Akatiff seems impatient, its because he's obsessed with results.
As a kid growing up, he once worked 13 straight hours to build an oscilloscope
even though he didn't care what an oscilloscope did.

but that takes time.

the extra button

sewn into my shirt tag
could give me the second chance
to show a change could be had

how to lose how to win
could get lost in passing words
and the sirens of a nearby ambulance

a bicycle tire under a benz
used in making polite requests
stones the healer of a nearby trend
and insults the dealer when affections commend

five days in hell
five days of consumption
brain badgering witnesses
of some kind of corruption

the thoughts of a child
grow up in depression
only when the distinction
gets the best of decisions.

you better believe
as much as you speak
when the responsibility
is worth the upkeep