Never Will Be Mine 4:17 Rye Rye Never Will Be Mine (The Remixes) [feat. Robyn] Electronic 1
Booty Call 3:28 G. Love and Special Sauce Friends With Benefits (Original Soundtrack) Soundtrack 2
We No Speak Americano 4:30 Yolanda Be Cool & Dcup We No Speak Americano - Single Dance 1
Helena Beat 4:36 Foster The People Torches Indie Rock 1
We R Who We R (Fred Falke Club Mix) 6:57 Ke$ha I Am The Dance Commander + I Command You To Dance: The Remix Album Pop
Papi 4:54 Jennifer Lopez Papi (Remixes) Dance
Obsessed 3:21 Mariah Carey Memoirs of an Imperfect Angel Pop
Collide 7:37 Leona Lewis & Avicii Collide (Remixes) Pop
Commander (feat. David Guetta) 3:38 Kelly Rowland Here I Am R&B/Soul 11
Lights (Bassnectar Remix) 5:03 Ellie Goulding Divergent Spectrum Electronic 2
Marry The Night (Zedd Remix) 4:21 Lady Gaga Born This Way [Disc 2] Pop
Ooh La La 3:24 Goldfrapp Supernature Alternative 13
Good Girls Go Bad (feat. Leighton Meester) 3:17 Cobra Starship Hot Mess (Deluxe Version) Alternative
Cardiac Arrest (feat. Robyn) 2:58 Teddybears Cardiac Arrest (feat. Robyn) - Single Alternative 7
Tainted Love / Where Did Our Love Go 8:57 Soft Cell 20th Century Masters - The Millennium Collection: Best of the ’80s Rock
Valerie 3:39 Mark Ronson featuring Amy Winehouse Version Pop 11
Think About It (7th Heaven Club Mix) 6:59 Melanie C Think About It (Remix & Video Version) - Single Pop
Ice Cream Truck (Frank Demaria Club Mix) [Bonus Track] 5:53 Cazwell Watch My Mouth (Deluxe Edition) Dance
Save the World (Radio Mix) 3:33 Swedish House Mafia Save the World - Single Dance 1
In the Dark 3:49 Dev In the Dark - Single Pop 1
Without You 3:28 David Guetta Feat. Usher Nothing But The Beat Dance & House
Call Your Girlfriend 3:47 Robyn Body Talk Dance 35
Love Will Never Do (Without You) 4:35 Janet Jackson Number Ones Pop
Pumped Up Kicks 4:00 Foster The People Torches Indie Rock
Raise Your Weapon (Radio Edit) 3:23 Deadmau5 Raise Your Weapon (Remixes) - EP Dance
A Million Stars (Myon & Shane 54 Summer of Love Intro Mix) 7:18 BT A Million Stars (Remixes) [feat. Kirsty Hawkshaw] Dance
Any Which Way 4:41 Scissor Sisters Night Work Pop 10
inescapable, inexcusable: i've taken some hits.
had the breath knocked into the wind
and let down another friend.
another would be lover
another inarticulate deception of myself.
felt the drama and the artifice confound me,
erase the pleasure with the pain,
scribbling out notes on the damage and the flames
of my name burning my face. a nod to my father,
a tip of the hat to to his dad,
my mother's father in there too
the name you know me by is his,
but i don't want it and i can't stand it
and i won't have it after the shit
i have wanted and stood and had.
i had the ability to make myself happy.
i had a moment where i was this-fucking-close-to-good,
and i let it slip away.
let the shit under the door,
poured the bleach down my throat,
and let it burn like the flames of my name:
burning my face. i've been through some shit.
i've taken some hits. gotten angry
and pissed gotten ragey and dissed
gotten small and combustive
and vaguely confrontive for no reason. i have no reason.
except i do. another would be hover
another elusive trick of the light
in the night where i don't know the name,
i just rub it on his face and he cries fuck yes
give me your name and i smear it on him,
with the name of my mother's father
with the flames burning my face, i tell you my name,
i tell you anonymous and close
and i hold you to my chest
and you feel the pressure press
and you want me to fuck you
because of my name.
i am named james.
there’s just her wedding band, she worries it around in circles.
He doesn’t know what’s wrong. So I talk to him and pour him a glass of
wine. He isn’t listening.
She says, “Come, come to Jesus.”
He says, “I already did.”
She says, “I don’t know what we’re doing, but I know it’s got to change.”
He says, “You’re right, but I don’t know how.”
She’s got her mind made up. I’m writing down ideas in my journal. Is
this the beginning of the end?
He sighs and he lights a cigarette. He’s lost a lot of weight. His
skin hangs on his face.
She drinks from her glass. She fidgets with the wedding band. She’s
looking at me like I’m someone else. She doesn’t know there’s a
difference between me and what she wants to run from. I don’t know
there’s a difference either.
He doesn’t look the same to me. He taps his pen on his journal. We’re
talking about this trip we’re on, but I’m talking on music, and he’s
just talking on fame. He doesn’t hear me say his name.
He says, “Come, come to my house.”
She says, “You should know by now I can’t.”
He says, “Yeah, I know that.”
She says, “Then why ask me to stay?”
I don’t know she’s leaving. I don’t know she’s moving on. I’m just
coming to Jesus.
I don’t know he’s staying. I’m just bringing him Jesus. Like he told
me I am running.
She says, “Come, come to Jesus, and I’ll sing your soul to sleep.
Come, come to Jesus, and just sing this hymn with me.”
Come, come to Jesus/Come, come to my house/This talk is almost over
Come, come to Jesus/Come, come to my house/This life is almost done
Come, come to Jesus/Come, come to my house/We’re finding the end
Come, come to Jesus/Come, come to my house/We’re done. We’re come. We’re gone.
i don't know whether i've elaborated on this.
i think it is possible that he is rather less well than previously believed which would be ... very very not well ...
i want him to live just long enough to know that i produced a film.
for that to be true he just has to make it to September.
and that is even sadder for some reason.
i am crying so hard it is stupid. i honestly. honestly.
no one is fans with me anymore. and i feel so much that no one is a fan of me. and i feel like echo: always alone. but i'm not. i tell people things. i say things to people and i am honest and open and why?
i'm so tired. so tired of being competent and work and all of the things that people expect me to be every day. i want to be other. i want to be unexpected. and exceptional. and every other day. i want to be so much more.
i want to see so much more.
lately, i feel as though i only go on here or facebook or twitter or to the local semi-decent open mic when i want to sell things and that's partly true.
i've really seriously deeply come to resent the idea that i have friends - friends i love, adore, have worked with, had sex with, made memories with, lived with, admire, respect, have met, shared ideas with - that will have nothing to do with me without the internet as a barrier.
what has happened to human communication?
so i ride the zeitgeist. i do it. i don't care what anyone says. so when is this backlash i feel gonna go mainstream. i ride the zeitgeist. it fucking sure as hell will.
So. Waiting for guy to fix my hot water heater and then will go wait to have my tires checked and then will go to take deposits on my day off and then will go to mom's house and giver some of the cell phone money I owe our family plan and then will come home again and do nothing but listen to Soldier of Love by Sade which is my new favorite song (also Need You Now by Lady Amtebellum and 1901 by Phoenix) and plan my world take over. I might practice spotting on my turns as well as work on my en crois.
Meanwhile all three of my books are now available on Amazon.com. Imagine my chagrin when I searched last night and instead of finding Unnamed: the rough draft, I found out that an author with a pretty famous first novel just published his second novel in January (about two weeks before I actually comitted to publishing my novel) and his novel is called The Unnamed. Blow. But maybe it will help my sales. Also, there are digital footprints all over the interwebs proving I had planned to publish as Unnamed for at least a year and a half so if someone cease and desists me I can at least prove something and then sue for damages. Lol. I know I wouldn't be able to sue, but damn. It just figures. I'm always right there on the zeitgeist. This is just exhibit G of me being not quite fast enough on the stick again.
Anyway, got a tax refund or some babysitting money lying around? Then please hit up Amazon and search for James Hargrave in department Books and purchase Unnamed: the rough draft, Love Letters from Hell, and/or Live Nude Poetry.
And as thanks I will continue to practice spotting on my turns.
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That is all for now.
Unnamed is coming SOON!
And I feel the death of the angel's wings
No more beating upon me
Their dusky rythym.
No more do I nurture the greater heaven
No more do I belong to the beat of the earth.
Her wisdom escapes my clumsy grasp
And through my fingers slips
The detritus of another one night stand.
Yesterday is gone. Complaints arise. The earth quakes. Et cetera. Ad nauseum.
I burn. A fire approaches my lips and little love letters from hell fall around my feet.
It is raining.
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