ibal lahl arou-sah om-yah-lee
yah al-bil kou-rou-dil menyaah

is-bahl kou-tul – ham-mahn ou-saw
ahl-bi yam-mil kaw-lil laah
is-bahl ahl-bi im-mil mous-saw heenal – my-dil
has-bi kaw-lahl arah-baw heena yas’a-lou-na il ‘araw-til – eehl laah

fis-’ahm mil kaw-waah-reeh yaah
mi-’aa-nihl kou-laah- aah – leeh – aah
Ay-nah ou-saw kooh nahn min kah-rah-baw
has-di khamf ‘alah ay-nahl musam-meh il-lah tou-lihl kah-reeb

has-dihl kou-toh ub-beehl ul-ou-saw
wah oul-leel-arah-baw – wah oul-leel-arah-baw – wah oul-leel-
yaa hub-bi al-mas-daw-nih ah-naay as-dee lil-kou-ral yaah

mis-’aal bar’oun-nih
ya ‘es-ta-khal-lahl ‘am-duh uhm-mee a-raah kah – yum-mi yam-mah
as-dee naa-bi yam-mah – al-kharou-si yam-ma

as-ta-wou lee il-lee yam-mah li-laah
uk-rou ‘ou-lee il-oh-daah daw-wah

oul-lee ya ahl-bi
oul-lee ya um-mee
oul-lee ya sa-hib

boy: Do not try and empty the dishwasher. That’s impossible. Instead… only try to realize the truth.
Neo: What truth?
boy: There is no dishwasher.
Neo: There is no dishwasher?
boy: Then you’ll see, that it is not the dishwashers that needs to be emptied, it is only yourself.

“Si on en veut aux gens qui se suicident, c’est parce qu’ils ont toujours le dernier mot.” – Folle (2004)

Nelly died on thursday. She hung herself, they said. It wasn’t her first attempt, they said.

She seemed intelligent and happy enough, from what I saw of her.  Now I’m all curious about her novels.

Say it’s the same sun spinning in the same sky
Say it’s the same stars streaming in the same night
Tell me it’s the same world whirling through the same space
Tell me it’s the same time tripping through the same day
So say it’s the same house and nothing in the house has changed
Yeah say it’s the same room and nothing in the room is strange
Oh tell me it’s the same boy burning in the same bed
Tell me it’s the same blood breaking in the same head
Say it’s the same taste taking down the same kiss
Say it’s the same you
Say it’s the same you and it’s always been like this
Say it’s the same you
Say it’s the same you and it always and forever is
Say it’s the same you
Say it’s the same you and it’s always been like this
Say it’s the same you
Say it’s the same you and it always and forever is
Say it’s the same you
Say it’s the same you
Yeah tell me it’s all the same
This is how it’s always been
But if nothing has changed…
Then it must mean…
But the sun is cold – the sky is wrong
The stars are black – the night is gone
The world is still – the space is stopped
The time is out – the day is dropped
The house is dark – the room is scarred
The boy is stiff – the bed is hard
The blood is thick – the head is burst
The taste is dry – the kiss is thirst
And it’s not the same you
It’s not the same you
No it never was like this
It’s not the same you
It’s not the same you and it never really is
It’s not the same you
It’s not the same you
No it never was like this
It’s not the same you
It’s not the same you and it never really is
It’s not the same you
It’s not the same you
Oh it’s not the same
This isn’t how it’s always been
Everything has to have changed…
Or it’s me…

J’ai souvent de vous été coupé
par des mouvements insoupçonnés
isolé par images superposées
j’ai trouvé comment rester debout
même si de mon corps on coupai le cou
pour toujours je resterai parmis vous

je reviendrai
je reviendrai
même une fois couché sous terre, je reviendrai
poussé par les souffles de mon corps
je serai
par vos sourires, vos cœurs, vos souvenirs devant, je resterai
grâce à vous, par ma voix, toujours je reviendrai

en pleurant jusqu’à m’effondrer
même, en rêvant jusqu’à m’envoler
au dessus des blancs nuages flottants
désolé pour les insouciances
désolé pour les arrogances
découlant de tous mes gestes posés

je reviendrai
je reviendrai
même une fois couché sous terre, je reviendrai
poussé par les souffles de mon corps
je serai
par vos sourires, vos cœurs, vos souvenirs devant, je resterai
grâce à vous, par ma voix, toujours je reviendrai

grâce à vous, par ma voix, toujours je reviendrai
grâce à vous, par ma voix, toujours je reviendrai

The Prime Minister of the Tang Dynasty was a national hero for his success as both a statesman and military leader. But despite his fame, power, and wealth, he considered himself a humble and devout Buddhist. Often he visited his favorite Zen master to study under him, and they seemed to get along very well. The fact that he was prime minister apparently had no effect on their relationship, which seemed to be simply one of a revered master and respectful student.

One day, during his usual visit, the Prime Minister asked the master, “Your Reverence, what is egotism according to Buddhism?” The master’s face turned red, and in a very condescending and insulting tone of voice, he shot back, “What kind of stupid question is that!?”

This unexpected response so shocked the Prime Minister that he became sullen and angry. The Zen master then smiled and said, “THIS, Your Excellency, is egotism.”

Way to fuck up the Arthurian legend, BBC and NBC. Please stop messing with the classics to make them more palatable to angsty teens.

A student came before the master Bankei and asked to be helped in getting rid of his violent temper. “Show me this temper,” said Bankei. “It sounds very fascinating.” “I haven’t got it right now, so I can’t show it to you,” said the student. “Well then,” said Bankei,”bring it to me when you have it.” “But I can’t bring it just when I happen to have it,” protested the student. “I’d surely lose it again before I got it to you.” “In such a case,” said Bankei, “it seems to me that this temper is not part of your true nature. If it is not part of you, it must come into you from outside. I suggest that whenever it gets into you, you beat yourself with a stick until the temper can’t stand it, and runs away.”

All these years driving to work, and admiring nature, I’ve often wondered about all the other people in their cars. Where are they all going and why? It hit me. We have no choice. There’s no such thing as freedom. We are all slaves. Slaves to our career. Slaves to our mortgage. Slaves to our car payments. Slaves to our desires.

Nature is just so amazing. I wish I could just stop the car and go walk in the fields whenever I spontaneously feel like it. Spend the day lying on the grass listening to birds and getting warmed up by the sun.

Standing there alone,
the ship is waiting.
All systems are go.
“Are you sure?”
Control is not convinced,
but the computer
has the evidence.
No need to abort.
The countdown starts.

Watching in a trance,
the crew is certain.
Nothing left to chance,
all is working.
Trying to relax
up in the capsule
“Send me up a drink.”
jokes Major Tom.
The count goes on…

4, 3, 2, 1
Earth below us
drifting, falling.
Floating weightless
calling, calling home…

Second stage is cut.
We’re now in orbit.
Stabilizers up,
runnning perfect.
Starting to collect
requested data.
“What will it affect
when all is done?”
thinks Major Tom.

Back at ground control,
there is a problem.
“Go to rockets full.”
Not responding.
“Hello Major Tom.
Are you receiving?
Turn the thrusters on.
We’re standing by.”
There’s no reply.

4, 3, 2, 1
Earth below us
drifting, falling.
Floating weightless
calling, calling home…

Across the stratosphere,
a final message:
“Give my wife my love.”
Then nothing more.

Far beneath the ship,
the world is mourning.
They don’t realize
he’s alive.
No one understands,
but Major Tom sees.
“Now the light commands
this is my home,
I’m coming home.”

Earth below us
drifting, falling.
Floating weightless
coming home…
Earth below us
drifting, falling.
Floating weightless
coming, coming
home…
home…..