WEBSITE: www.twitter.com/car...
LOCATION: —
RECORDS: 47
LATEST RECORD: over 1 year ago
JOINED: January 21, 2010
LOCATION: —
RECORDS: 47
LATEST RECORD: over 1 year ago
JOINED: January 21, 2010
All itscarolina's RECords
|
The thing about growing up is that... We measure our life in terms of the accomplishments of our past as opposed to the possibilities of our future… We slowly stop wanting to grow up so quickly, coveting age and wisdom; we realize the beauty in youth and innocence… We follow the rhythm of the world instead of marching to our own drum… Why is it that the older we get, the more we conform? Sometimes all I want is to be a kid again. |
|
|
|
|
Recently, in a series of familiar motions I realized: I’ve done this song and dance before. Seen this show. Met this person. Had this conversation. Felt these emotions. How did I end up here all over again? Maybe our lives consist of records, on a celestial cue, playing their songs again and again. Sometimes we hear many records before a song is repeated. Other times we just heard a song and what do you know? It’s playing again! Fortunately or unfortunately, to our joy or dismay, life doesn’t ask our opinion on its song selection – it is the DJ, we’re simply the dancers. All we have to do is dance. |
|
|
|
|
|
A little story line inspired by songs that start with "I"... I am. I’m alive. I’m every woman. I got a name. I got it from my mama. I love rock and roll. I’m only happy when it rains. I did it. I made it through the rain. I’m walking on sunshine. I’m like a bird. I’m money. I’m on fire. I’m too sexy. I have the touch. I want candy. I know what I like. I like it, I love it, I want some more of it. I want it all. I want it that way. I want to hold your hand. I want to tell you. I want to know what love is. I wanna be your lover. I want you to want me. I wanna dance with somebody (who loves me). I bet you look good on the dance floor. I predict a riot. I’ll back you up. I’m gonna be starting something. I’ve got a feeling. I turn to you. I remember you. I see you baby. I’m looking through you. I believe in a thing called love. I was born to love you . I was made for loving you. I’m gonna let my heart do the walking. I will possess your heart. I need you. I do. I melt with you. I’m yours. I’m waiting for the man. I take my chances. I go to extremes. I found out. I heard it through the grapevine. I can’t make you love me. I wish. I forgot to remember to forget. I still haven’t found what I’m looking for. I don’t even know myself. I’m no angel. I write sins not tragedies. I swear. I’m on the battlefield. I am the walrus. I can’t get no satisfaction. I never said I was deep. I beg your pardon. I got the blues. I don’t want to talk about it. I will survive. I feel fine. I was sinking deep in sin. I’m a believer. I walk by faith. I will follow Him. I say a little prayer. I believe in miracles. I’m still standing. I walk the line. I’m breaking free. I’m beginning to see the light. I’m into something good. I’m on my way. I’m ready. I am. |
|
|
|
|
|
Issaness wrote: "The city is beautiful, but being able to see the stars instead of streetlights is also...” Breathtaking. I’ve lived in cities all my life; seeing stars is a rare occurrence. A couple of years ago we visited family in Lajas Beach, Panama (northwest coast, by the Costa Rica border), one of the most desolate, untouched and beautiful places I’ve been to. Lush trees, the whitest sand and calm ocean turned magnificent hues as they welcomed the night sky. A rich shade of black, the stars blatantly illuminated it at night, glittering as they danced; they were the live of the party... and it was breathtaking. I spent countless hours connecting those stars, creating shapes, imagining stories faraway people and lands. The beauty of the stars caught me off guard; I never really noticed how incredible they are. Last night, as I drove home with my sunroof opened I looked up and spotted one star. Just one. It looked lonely. I imagined this star showing up to its middle school dance, desperately looking for his friends, but not seeing them. Feeling incredibly awkward, alone, forsaken. I felt like shouting to it “You’re surrounded by the stars, you’re friends are there! We’ve just polluted your sight.” I secretly hoped for a blackout, wanting to reunite this little star of mine with its friends. Craving to see the song and dance I had seen in Panama. All of a sudden I became sad. I too miss the stars little guy. I miss them every night. |
|
|
|
