Skip to content

Insomnia

September 2, 2010

And because I cannot sleep — I blog.

As we move down the list of reasons why Blink-182 is my favorite band (after the Beatles, of course), we find this video:

You might watch this video and find their humor vulgar; their maturity lacking; their wit dull.

Not me.

I watch this video and see two friends — two incredible song writers — sitting together in a room, taking a break from songwriting. They’re blowing off steam, they’re having fun — they’re being hilarious.

This may not be hilarious to everyone, but then again, Blink-182 isn’t for everyone. For me — the look in Mark’s eyes, the relaxed manner in which Tom is lying on the couch behind Mark and the things they say are so quintessentially Blink that I cannot help but fall in love.

I’ve watched this video about 7 times in the past hour. I’m about to go for another 7.

This is another video I think I might be even more obsessed with:

It’s the untouchable Andrea Gibson performing her Slam Poem, “Say Yes.” I’m pretty sure it’s my favorite one of all time. I love it so much, I went through it over and over again until I got down all her words. I’ve pasted them below — go through and read them closely because even deeper meaning is revealed upon close scrutiny that you miss when you’re just listening to her deliver the lines. Here they are:

When two violins are placed in a room, if a chord on one violin is struck the other violin will sound that note.
If this is your definition of hope, this is for you.
For the ones who know how powerful we are –
Who know we can sound the music in the people around us simply by playing our own strings;
For the ones who sing life into broken wings,
Open their chest and offer their breath as wind on a still day when nothing seems to be moving spare those intent on proving God is dead.
If your fingers are red from clutching your heart so it will beat faster, this is for you.
When you notice the moon at noon on a day when the world has slapped you in the face with it’s lack of light,
And this is for that moon.
On the night she sings hung by a noose.
For the people who cut her loose and for the people still waiting for the rope to burn about to learn they have scissors in their hands.
This is for the man who showed me the hardest thing about having nothing is having nothing to give;
Who said the only reason to live is to give ourselves away so this is for the day we’ll quit our jobs and work for something real.
And for the ones who’ve already begun songs that sound something like people turning their porch lights on and calling the homeless back home.
This is for all the shit we own,
And for the day we’ll learn how much we have when we learn to give that shit away.
This is for doubt becoming faith;
For falling from grace and climbing back up;
For trading our silver platters for something that matters,
Like the gold that shines from our hands when we hold each other.
This is for your grandmother,
who walked a thousand miles on broken glass to find that single patch of grass to plant a family tree where the fruit would grow to laugh;
For the ones who know the math of war has always been subtraction so they live like an action of addition;
For you
When you give like every star is wishing on you.
This is for the times you went through hell so someone else wouldn’t have to;
For the time you taught a 14 year old girl she was powerful;
For the time you taught a 14 year old boy he was beautiful;
For the radical anarchist asking a Republican to dance
‘Cause what’s the chance of anyone moving from right to left if the only moves they see are NBC and CBS?
This is of no becoming yes;
For fear becoming trust;
For saying ‘I love you’ to people who will never say it to us;
For scraping away the rust and remembering how to shine;
For the dime you gave away when you didn’t have a penny;
For the many beautiful things we do.
‘Cause tonight, Saturn is on it’s knees proposing with all of his 10,000 rings so whatever song we’ve been singing, we sing even more.
The world needs us right now more than it ever has before.
Pull all your strings, play every chord.
If you’re writing letters to the prisoners, start tearing down the bars.
If you’re handing out flashlights in the dark, start handing out stars!
Never go a second hushing the percussion of your heart.
Play loud.
Play like the apocalypse is only four, three, two, but you have a drum in your chest that could save us;
You have a song like a breath that could raise us like the sunrise into a dark sky that cries to be blue!
Play like you know we won’t survive if you don’t but we will if you do!
Play like Saturn is on his knees proposing will all of his 10,000 rings so we give every single breath.
Y’all, this is for saying “yes.”
This is for saying “YES.”

What an unbelievable human that Andrea Gibson is, huh?

Advertisements
No comments yet

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: