come down in time

watching weather change over diego martin hills, gorgeous view traded for the one i left behind in st.james. on the bench, gentle, tiny raindrops in eyelashes, wetting cheeks+forehead, heralding what the sky promises will be epic. clouds gathered for their regular afternoon meeting, early stages of the rainyseason, soon this will be a daily deluge.
rain outs my smoke, is time. lingering glances back as i make my way inside. some days i stay, sit in the downpour, let it wash over me, wash away the thoughts i cannot control as well as i'd like, wash away regret, doubt, anxious insecurity, wash me clean, at least for a little while...
and in the interest of clearing space (how does a person so averse to clutter constantly amass so much of it, mental and otherwise?) lemme unload my brain...
if/when i finally get my shit together enough to think about my future, i think i need an earthship-home. valhalla movement still new to me, but i cyah argue with beautiful+sustainable living...
along related lines, i saying since my 1st mobile phone that we need to be able to build custom phones and only pay for the features we actually want, and it looking like we might be getting there; meanwhile, this dude shows how easily it can be done already, building his own smartphone using only off-the-shelf components.
and now for something completely different, complete switch, music+video because i finally check out stromae and he too good; take in some amazingness: papaoutai

and tous les memes.
and bonus, another someting cool, but totally different again; alt-j's fitzpleasure.

walk good.
ps: ooohhh and this gorgeousness; neil patrick harris as hedwig, officially the only other time i wanted to be back in the usa (the 1st time being fela on broadway)...

quickie; 3fer

big tings a gwan: in this universe, nasa find the 1st earth-size planet in the "habitable zone" of another star; in our neighbourhood, haitians locally manufacturing their own low-cost tablets, each one handmade by the same woman start to finish; and sweetness from home, a kinna 2fer inside the 3fer, 1st link primarily for audio but with its video of band playing it live@panorama, and if that eh visuals enough, 2nd link is audioless footage of port of spain, trinidad 1970-79, shorter than the 1st so you can watch both while the steelband play...
love this pan tune, posted a medium band beating it the other day, plus i's a [amoco!]renegades fan through the parents and uncle desi since childhood; check them playing de fosto's in de minor:  
port of spain, 1970-79, no audio, real vibes but didn' see my parents though, rats...  
walk good.

words+meanings

tonight she awaits the moon. lighting one smoke after the next while a single block of ice melts slowly into the rum. staring up+out at the night, into her darkest corners, under her blanket of quiet shrouding the world. only cocquis+crickets, not a car, not a footstep, and the streetlight out weeks now. she sits on the gallery step because it keeps her low enough to be out of sight if anybody should happen down the lane, but she expects no one. not coming this way, this lane, this hour. she is, as ever, alone with her voices, her demons, awaiting the pale gleam that is her only company anymore. sunlight feels like acid on papery skin after too many years hiding.
tonight she awaits the moon. watching smoke curl up and dissipate slowly, one small cloud at a time taken by the breeze she wished for earlier the day, she wonders if this is why the universe must keep expanding, to accommodate spirits like hers that never leave. she wonders if the added weight of them all (because in a world of 6billion she cannot possibly be alone, no matter how it feels) will grow too heavy, overtax the expanding universe and cause the whole of time+space to collapse...the soul that break the continuum's back?
tonight she awaits the moon, craving the caress of soft light on her face, the closest thing to touch in her life anymore. she tries to recall a lover, any lover, before the night became her only friend but they all seem too far away now, too far gone, too far in the past, too far...
tonight she awaits the moon because only the company of timelessness makes her feel less alone...

tha's where my head at; these links went into those [excerpted]words and the script they part of, so, archive-time:
it was only on reading this that i realise i grow up and come through primary school instinctively assuming a multiverse, tha's just what made sense in my mind, and only in reading fiction i came to understand it wasn't (then) popular theory (not that that stopped me believing)...next realisation was that for such a realist and one so very real i engage a lot of un-real/theory because for me real still mean anyting possible...ent? implications of the "many worlds interpretation"; keep it real.
and words, gorgeous words, a hunger like none since from teju cole's every day is for the thief is beautiful reading and a good jumpstart on slow writing days; he's make me wanna do it jes so...
plus i randomly find this sweet infographic for all shakespeare's deaths, love eeet, only to discover is my gyul cam magee ting; bes'!
and while film might not be my primary medium this particular one (and its amazing andre tanker soundtrack) always had+have something for me so i revisit often; recently find this piece of context for 1974's bim.
and as we reach film territory, this skrillex video gimme plenty to watch; mash up the dance: and the shortest film ever nominated for an oscar just remind me to take nothing for granted...

and bonus, because i love the idea, and the visuals pretty fucking cool, nigeria's floating school...
walk good.

bubble gyal a bubble...

so is not even that i love this track so hard, and i definitely wish the dancers were more representative of we who make this kinna music+movement, but i like that all the steps named in realtime, so dancehall archive win...  
walk good.