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"Sometimes you're doing really well, then, after three or four years, everything inexplicably crashes like a house of cards and you have to rebuild it. It's not like you get to a point where you're all right for the rest of your life." - Patti Smith

Otevřený okno mýho pokoje jak prázdná huba velkoměsta řvoucí
připomíná mi Krchovskýho

Vzpomínky na Prahu a zapomenutou minulost

-

After every party I die, Chris Corner used to say
and he had a point there.

Hello, my name is Jonny.

Roof-on-tops. 

Maps

Imagine places could talk and tell us all what they've witnessed throughout the years. It's true we need walls mainly to protect us and keep our secrets rather than spread more gossip, but there are places I would like to hear anyway.

Plné nosy plné prachu (preventivně proti pachu?) a plné hlavy
plné strachu (preventivně, 

abychom se náhodou nepustili do života). 

Sometimes we want to hide from ourselves — we do not want to be us — it is too difficult to be us. It is at these times that we turn to drugs or alcohol or behavior to help us forget that we are ourselves. This of course is only a temporary solution to a problem which is going to keep returning, and sometimes these temporary solutions are worse for us than the original problem. Yes, it is a dilemma. Is there an answer? Of course there is: as a wise person said with a smile: The answer is within the question.

The Log Lady knows better. 

*

So I found out there is a 2011 David Lynch album and a 2009 Flaming Lips (double!) album, both of which I somehow managed to be unaware of until now, and both of which feature Karen O of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. Shame on me I didn't know ages ago, but it is a great thing to find out after all. 

The past already happened and the future might not be happening at all, keep that in mind now, now, now.

Subway / Runaway

A bunch of strangers at your feet. Trapped inside a beautiful moment.

With every experience we fall apart
to collect ourselves again
with the pieces of us
organized in
slightly different
fashion.

Sometimes you lose you your faith in humanity, only to be able to find it again. Doesn't matter how much upside down the world is by now, as long as there's someone to pain it black and scream with colours. Spit water all over the place and make you cry, cry, cry, darling, with happiness.

Run, run, run away, lost, lost, lost my mind 

want you to stay, want you to be my prize.

I wonder, what is this music obsession of mine all about. Maybe I should get a black leather jacket and become a rockstar. 

*

When there are so many public holidays in one month you have no clue what is the day that follows today. When you agree to spicy sauce in your falafel and then your mouth is on fire, so you can't even tell what is that you are eating. When you're starting to get angry at someone who is not replying to your message and then find out you forgot to press send.

Abandoned former DDR Iraqi embassy tomorrow. How cool is that.

*

It's sacrilege sacrilege sacrilege she said. 

And then I fell in love. 

Rebellion (Lies)

Sleeping in is giving in sleeping in is giving in sleeping in is giving in
sleeping in is giving in sleeping in is giving in
sleeping in is giving in
sleeping in is giving in
sleeping in is giving in no matter what the time is. And dancing to 80s pop rock in a second hand bookstore until 4am indeed is a grand idea.

*

Maybe I should just quit everything
and take up worshipping

Nicholas fucking Cave 

as full time occupation.

Higgs Boson Blues

Can't remember anything at all
Flame trees line the streets
Can't remember anything at all
Driving my car down to Geneva

Who cares? Who cares what the future brings?
Black road long and I drove and drove
The night was hot and black

Well here comes Lucifer with his canon law
And a hundred black babies running from his genocidal jaw

Driving my car, flame trees on fire

All the clocks have stopped
In Memphis now
I'll take a room with a view
Hear a man preaching in a language that's completely new

While the cleaning ladies sob into their mops

Everybody bleeding to that Higgs Boson Blues

If I die tonight, bury me in my favorite yellow patent leather shoes
With a mummified cat and a cone-like hat

Can you feel my heartbeat?
Can you feel my heartbeat?

Oh let the damn day break
The rainy days always make me sad
Miley Cyrus floats in a swimming pool in Toluca Lake
And you're the best girl I've ever had

1. Mai

People on the street, walking off their feet. All the fat skinny people. The streets packed with people.
Never thought I'd see so many people

H
AV
IN G FUN

*

And then you wake up two hours earlier.
Have you ever set your head on fire?

Despair (by Yeah Yeah Yeahs)

It feels like a memory and the smoke goes hello hello hello round my head.

All the unborn tears of all the wasted years
swim around
in your head
as you lay down on a bed -

Turkish cotton candy feels like someone's putting the stuffing from your pillow into you mouth and you're actually enjoying it. Shopping for food you don't know how to eat makes a nice hobby, thank you very much. Note to anyone: Once you manage to engage your thoughts in private conversations you no longer need to make them public. Kloppt het?

And what if you think you are not able to live with people and then realize you are not able to live without them.

*

If it's all in my head there's nothing to fear.
If it's all in my head there's nothing to fear.
If it's all in my head there's nothing to fear. Some sun is gonna rise.

Wikipedia is heaven
and heaven only knows.

Fragile! Ideas.

Once In A Lifetime (by Talking Heads)

I vaguely remember I was posting a quote from Bunny Munro and than the world just turned around, and what now feels like another lifetime was actually ten days ago. And it was summer, I do not remember. And summer it is.

Muži a ženy jsou dva různý živočišný druhy.

Once you reach the point that whatever is it you do is not leading anywhere you've never been to before, there's no reason to keep doing that. Srsly.

Drop the bottle, Christopher.
Drop the bottle.

*

Only wear black and think in colours. Only care about ever-changing people
and let someone tell you that everything's gonna be all right.

It's just that my nose keeps running
and I don't know where to. / Vy mě chcete dostat do nějaký schízy nebo co.

We are 

bathed in sensation 

and yet 

we don't feel.

Paint-
ed on a wall
and cry
cry
cr-
y.

Vortex

So it seems David Lynch has the ability to make a film simply so good one does not need to analyze what it is that is so good about it. I think I want to live in one. And I sure want to drive a Cadillac. I want to drive a Cadillac

into the days back then.

When you're moving into a new place and discovering all those weird things that happen to be there for some reason you can't quite make out. I remember there was a time I was scared only imagining that at some point I would have to be alone in a flat, and now when the time came nothing makes me happier than having a flat for myself. 

I even have a window into a street, so I actually feel like living in a city. 

*

Until recently I was deluded and under the impression that Grinderman was somehow about raving and screaming, and out of fear I wouldn’t like it enough I was sort of pretending it didn’t happen. How very wrong of me! Vortex is one of the most fragile songs I know, there’s an element to Nick’s voice I don’t think I’ve heard before. Like you can actually hear him trembling. I guess I got no other plans now than listen to it over and over again. 

Tender Pray

Der Himmel über Berlin is most beautiful tonight when the stars are out and the good old moon is just about to speak with a Noel-Fielding-voice. I guess my dreams must be made of darkness, for when the day comes I can't find them anymore.

Slowly Goes The Night all day long something must've gone wrong for I am blind and out of my mind
and I cry cry cry no matter how I try (not to).

*

Neboť zrak je z našich tělesných smyslů nejbystřejší, ale moudrost jím nevidíme.

Bezzubci s malým otvorem místo úst, živící se pomocí slámky, 
bezústci, nemající ústa vůbec a živící se jen vůněmi, 
tvrdochodci s rovnýma nohama bez kolen, koňskými kopyty a pohlavním údem na hrudi, 
bytosti s dolním rtem tak velikým, že si jím ve spánku zakrývají hlavu, 
ušatci s ušima až po kolena, 
hadi s hřebínkem na hlavě, chodící po nohou, 
jedonožci, kteří rychle běhají po své jediné noze a při odpočinku ji zvidhají jako stínidlo. 

-- Umberto Eco: Dějiny krásy 

Artist must be beautiful. Art must be beautiful.

*

Keep On Trying

Since were are not children anymore we are too conscious of what we're doing. We constantly bear this notion in our minds that everything has to have an aim and a result, that everything we do has to be good enough, that unless the final product is perfect our effort is just a waste of time. 

Sometimes we try to take up drawing, playing piano, learning a language or whatever, but if it's no good we just leave it and consider that area closed for us for the rest our lives. But nothing can ever be good for the first time, nothing can ever become good unless we keep on trying and fighting and finding a way.

That's what children do - if they fail, and obviously, they often do, they don't give up - oh, I guess I'm no good in walking, I'm never gonna try again - or - oh, this drawing is lame, I really should stop insulting my mother with such horrible depictions - they just keep on trying. And eventually, they succeed. 

And we can too, all we need is to leave our doubts behind, forget that journey seems endless and that we can't see our reward on the horizon. For it is far beyond, but it is there. Once we focus on the journey, on the process and not the result, we'll get somewhere. And once we get somewhere more and more roads, more and more possibilities will open for us. 

In other words, you need to go through a lot of shit until you find a pearl. But if you don't go you won't find any. 

*

The moment you know you've created something which wasn't there just a while ago is magic. Anyway. 

So it seems I am again capable of writing coherent sentences, my very own ones. I mean, I still enjoy cutting stuffings out of other people's pillows and turning them into motorbikes (made of jealousy) - here we go again - which, obviously, I will never ever stop. But I guess it's good to do something properly every once in while. 

Consider this going through the lot of shit, all right? 

*

We 

are 

learning 

to 

love 

life 

is that right? Oh yes it is. We only got one shot anyway so let's all do our best.

Once there were sunbirds to sore with and once I could never be down

got to keep searching and searching oh what will I be believing 

and who will connect me with love.

**

And the Ass Saw the Angel

It does, it pains - yet - and yet - in spite of all the punishment of mind and body and all the rest, yes in spite of it all, you know, ah have to smile, yes ah do, why sometimes ah can't help smiling in the face of it all. / What is the process by which God arrives at a decision to, say, take all the water from place A and dump it on place B? Ah'm asking you.

It was as if she was consulting the silence to find me.

And the Ass Saw the Angel is more of a painting than anything else. Visually demanding, arousing your fantasy and sharping your vision only to blur it again, making you twitch and itch and take a closer look and scrutinize every single stroke of the brush (or every single word), for every single one is fascinating on its own, and then you step back again, doing your best to see the whole picture build up in front of your eyes and in your mind. But no matter what you do, you're never quite sure what's actually going on. And yet you're strangely drawn to it, whatever it is. At some point you realize you're trying hard to figure out something you know you never really will, and what you realize next is that you're being taken through hell, and that you're painfully enjoying it.

I remember I read the translation about two years ago, not knowing much about Nick Cave, and I remember being fascinated. Fascinated by the fantasy it must've taken to write such a novel. Being wiser now, at least concerning the author and his diverse career, I think there is much more truth behind the whole thing than one would guess. Now I believe that most of the pain there was real at the time, of course fantasyfied by Nick's both horrifying and beautiful fantasy and set off to other dimensions, but real nonetheless. I can well imagine it's how he actually felt. I see this young puppy-face of his, frowning in concentration nights and days, in Berlin, not at all caring what's going on in the city or in the next room. And throughout the book I've seen Euchrid, his anti-hero, with this face too. And their hair of midnight black.

I cannot judge if what I see in the novel now is actually there, but what me led to the conclusions I ended up with were his songs. And it works the other way round as well, for it was the book which later made me see more in the songs.

And then, in spite of it all, you know, I have to smile, yes I do, sometimes I can't help smiling in the face of it all.

--

In the shadow of moonlight

and out of sight the traces of those who never wanted to fight 

go out in a daydream 

or so they seem 

Down by the water no fish can swim no bird can fly no fish can swim / and when did you learn you were dead? 

In Weiter Ferne So Nah

We are so deeply frozen by now that the sun doesn't even seem real. Never mind that the temperature is below zero, just act as if it was spring.

I admit there is a better thing one can buy apart from vinyl records and concert tickets: Berlin - London flight tickets.

--

How summer festivals always go hand in hand with my obsessions: This time last year I couldn't wait to see Kasabian and Elbow and then I did and I thought that would be it, I thought that I wouldn't really go to festivals anymore, for I thought these days one can't get much more (than Tom and Serge and Guy Garvey) and I thought I would have better things to do in my life, better places to be. And here I am again. Actually, there are many interesting things to do until then, and I am very much all right and happy, and yet I want the time to jump to July again. There is simply no better place to be on July 12 and 13. I don't even dare wondering what the next year brings, because there is truly nothing in this world that could possibly beat Thom Yorke OR Nick Cave, not to mention Thom Yorke AND Nick Cave. Or is there? 

One 

time

too

many flies trapped inside. The things my head can barely contain. 

Blue now is the colour

Blue now is the colour

Blue now is the colour

Blue now is the colour

Soon it will be morning

Floating under ground

Wrapped in cold with tears in your eyes (are you the one that I've been waiting for)? 

*

When I grow up I want to be Tilda Swinton. 

Tilda Swinton's dinner speech at the opening of David Bowie is

Dear Dave

When I asked you if you wanted me to say anything here tonight

You said 'Only three words, one of them testicular..'

So i'll pass that on

Here I am at surely the most eclectic of all the London branches of Bowie Anonymous
All the nicest possible freaks are here

We're in the Victoria and Albert Museum preparing to rifle through your drawers
It's truly an amazing thing

This was my favourite playground as a child
Medieval armour : my fantasy space wear

And, alongside, when I was 12 - and a square sort of kid in a Round Pond sort of childhood, not far from here - I carried a copy of Aladdin Sane around with me - a full 2 years before i had the wherewithal to play it

The image of that gingery boney pinky whitey person on the cover with the liquid mercury collar bone was - for one particular young moonage daydreamer - the image of planetary kin, of a close imaginary cousin and companion of choice

It's taken me a long time to admit, even to myself, let alone you, that it was the vision and not yet the sound that
hooked me up - but if i can't confess that here and now, then when and where?

We all have our own roots
And routes
To this room

Some of us - the enviable - found the fellowship early in the funfests of Billy's Bowie Nights
or equivalent lodges from San Francisco to Aukland to Heidelberg and all points in between

For others, it was a more lonesome affair, paced out in a sort of private morse code like following bread crumbs through a forest

I'm not saying that if you hadn't pitched up I would have worn a pie crust collar and pearls like some of those I went to school with
I'm not saying that if you hadn't weighed in, Princess Julia would have been less inventive with the pink blusher
Simply that, you provided the sideways like us with such rare and out-there company
Such fellowship
You pulled us in and left your arm dangling over our necks
And kept us warm - as you have for - isn't it ? - centuries now
You were
You are
One of us

And you have remained the reliable mortal in amongst all the immortal shapes you have thrown

Nothing more certain than changes

Always with a weather eye out
Always awake and clocking the fallout

Those Mayans must have known something when they set their calendar down before
January 2013

Because, of course, now all bets are off

I know, because you told me, how tickled you were to knock Elvis - for once! - out of the headlines on your shared birthday this year

There's so much for all of us to be happy about since then

Yet, I think the thing I'm loving the most about the last few weeks
is how clear it now is - how undeniable - that the freak becomes the great unifier
The alien is the best company after all
For so many more than the few

They wanted a Bowie fan to speak tonight. They could have thrown a paper napkin and hit a hundred.
I'm the lucky one, standing up to speak for all my fellow freaks anxious to win the pub quiz and
claim their number one most super-fan tshirt

I want to give thanks to the Victoria and Albert Museum for indulging us so
For laying on our dream show

For showing us - look at their advance ticket sales - that , as is
written along the bottom of this months Q magazine,
'why we all live in David's world now'

To Gucci and Sennheiser for putting up the cash, laying on the sound and vision
To Geoffrey and Victoria for curating an entire universe so beautifully, on behalf of us all

When I think of what it used to feel like once
To be a freak who liked you
To feel like a freak like you
- a freak who even looked a little like you

And then I think of the countless people of every size and feather who are going to walk through this trace of your journey here and pick up the breadcrumbs
in the great hub of this mothership over these Spring and Summer months..

And how familiar and stamped you are into ALL of our our collective DNA

I'm just plain proud

So

Where are we now?

Well
I know you aren't here tonight, but
Somehow, no matter

We are -
And you brought us out of the wainscotting like so many
Freaky old bastards
Like so many fan boys and girls
Like so many loners and pretty things and dandies and dudes and dukes and duckies and testicular types
And pulled us together

Together
By you
Dave Jones
Our not so absent, not so invisible, friend

Every alien's favourite cousin
Certainly mine

We have a nice life

Yours aye

Tilly

/

(link)

Temptation

Gazing at the area between things. Answer on the ceilings, we looking up for something?

I am too tired
too tired to sleep
laying down deep
at the bottom of your arti-
choke heart.

The caffeine level is desperately now these days,
no wonder then.

*

Kapka klouže po dveřích dolů do neznáma, až dojde k cíli, už jí nebude?

Would you rather
cry for someone
or cry from
not having
anyone
to cry for? (I'd
rather fly.)

Walking down the streets of Prenzlauer Berg with two vinyl plates of PJ Harvey's B sides and what I imagine must've been an idiot smile on my face I remembered that last time I felt precisely on top of the world like that was on my way from Greenwich market with a live Bowie record, and consequently I realized that in strong contrast to shopping for anything else, buying records (and also concert tickets, provided I actually get to get some) makes me exceptionally happy. It does, it simply does.

For the love of Polly, for the love of B sides.

I feel like I could lock myself up in a room with a bunch of records and stay there for ete-e-erni-ty.

Water

Dry

Joe

Hair

Reeling

Man-size

Hook

Wang Dang Doodle

Daddy

Lying In The Sun

Somebody's Down Somebody's Name

Darling Be There

Maniac

One Time Too Many

Hook (live)

Long Time Coming

Harder

The Northwood

Sweeter Than Anything

The Bay

Instrumental  # 3

The Faster I Breathe The Further I Go

Nina In Ecstasy

Rebecca

Instrumental  # 2

66 Promises

Memphis

30

As Close As This

My Own Private Revolution

A Place Called Home

Birds on Sticks & My Sheep's got Wheels

Kronos ate his children, and the time does eat ours. Melancholy is merely a disposition than an illness. I imagine postcards as little pieces of life travelling from one to another, what are you doing to-

day?

Těším se ze své soukromé pračky, namáčím konečky vlasů v polévkách a lovím nudle ve dřezu

(aneb 
poz-
námky 
z mého 
neexist-
ujícího 
praktického 
života).

This is I-an. An big as an aeroplane. What if we turn it off and turn it on, then? (link)

Let Alone

We barely choose anything in our lives, they merely choose us: the people we meet, the places we visit, the things we own, the thoughts we bear in our minds, the ideas we ought to realize. There is no point in trying to choose them on our own, what we need is to let them choose us.

We all have our own definitions of a particular concept, which is a fact we better keep in our mind when dealing with abstract terms. It is not easy to take this notion of relativity into account, for we can never know for certain how exactly does a particular person define a particular concept. At times we barely know how do we define the term for ourselves. People tend not to realize the relativity at all, they often consider their own private beliefs to generally valid, some sort of general truth which is the same for all. It is true that, to a certain extent, our own private definitions overlap, but they are private nonetheless and cannot be the same for any two individuals. Just as any two individuals are never the same, even though they might share some similarities. Also, our very own private definition can only develop in the context of the other people's private definitions, they are shaped by the previous and build a ground the future ones, just as they influence each other in the present.

*

I practically live in a bookshop, and late at night I dance dance dance in the dark, 

among the books.

The instruments on Push the Sky Away create a sound landscape, a place of ruined sounds for Nick's voice to wander around in.
For what's better than to walk among the ruins?

Roláž

At 2 in the morning the birds keep singing. Cassiel is the angel of tears and sorrows. Příští zastávka Anděl.
Někdy-příliš-závidíme-ostatním-jejich-životy-na-to-abychom-dokázali-žít-ten-svůj?

Your private sorrows and all the wonders of the world.

*

The-Nick-Cave-complete-lyrics-book might very well be the best present I've been given

not to mention that

I've seen

Wanted Man

In the Ghetto

The Singer

Tupelo

Deanna

The Mercy Seat

The Ship Song

The Weeping Song

I Had a Dream, Joe

Do You Love Me?

Red Right Hand

Where the Wild Roses Grow

Henry Lee

Stagger Lee

Into My Arms

Fifteen Feet of Pure White Snow

More News from Nowhere

Dig, Lazarus, Dig!!!

No Pussy Blues

Electric Alice

Heathen Child

Jubilee Street

(4 minute version of) Babe, I'm On Fire

It's a Wonderful World

videos 

on screen.

Ah did, with mah eyes. Strange to see those I already knew so well AND

those I had never seen before.

Po Cestě

I want my own flat
and a cat

I want you under my bed

*

In Ancient Greece they would organize games not to find out who's the best
but who's been blessed by the gods to win.

It's the clock ticking, not the time.

Žichlínek. Lov kachen pomocí sokola.

God loves his children
God loves his children, yeah.