harmonic

do you hear that?

it's something celestial,

something that allows

invisible (or imaginary?) spiderweb

silk, iron chains

ensnaring them from

diving down through the troposphere

to implant themselves in

the magma of the earth.

it's something out there in that

black ice vacuum and

maybe someone like

copernicus,

or kepler

discovered it but

kept it for themselves,

knowing that they could magnetize

their publicity with

heliocentricity and elliptical behaviors

than this trifling(?) secret.

but something has gone

awry, and maybe

kepler has

sensed it in his grave

a few feet smothered in the earth

that maybe it's been thrown off

one of his studied orbits

or that it has decided to

join another galaxy

where maybe

they orbit in trapezoidal fashions

or maybe it has decided to

just break off into

middle ground, a tiny

sliver of ether between

two galaxies, resting in

its little niche, for just

a few more lightyears

do you hear that?

it's the sound of

maybe copernicus, or maybe kepler

(or maybe someone else)

from their grave, trying to

bellow out their

suffocated secret to the world,

regretting that they didn't centuries

ago, but now it is too late

and those soundwaves of

salvation, are trapped in the dirt

reverberating through earthworms,

echoing in magma.

you see,

rain always hits the

shortest one

last.

but the shortest

also do drown

first.

the ground split right between us and that concrete

sweet dreams.

this is our generation's sputnik moment.

nightmares

pour a little salt, we were never here

quickwrite

He was trudging up the concrete hill, with a slight backwards arch in his slim back due to a loaded backpack. His sandy colored trimmed hair prickled up in the unnoticeable Pacific breeze wafting up the hill, enduring the same struggle against gravity as the boy. Green wafers of leaves sporadically padded the concrete sidewalk, and as he passed the midway point of the hill, he saw a flash of blue pass by on the street ahead—instantly catalyzing an explosion of energy as the boy began to sprint towards the peak of the hill, outracing the crisp breeze.

With a wheeze of pollutants and the click of the doors, the bus passed, and the boy, thoroughly exhausted, sat defeated on the cool black iron bench a few moments later, a few moments too late. A bicyclist whizzed by in a blur of aluminum silver outlined with bloody crimson, and the organ-vibrating bass of a blasting car stereo rumbling a Top 40 hit hummed through the air. The sun was dipping below the eucalyptus-lined horizon as the boy dropped his bag on the seat beside him and leaned back against the grated fence, closing his eyes and allowing his synapses to ignite.

PCHS Indoor Drumline '11, here we go.

Time to try something new, get out of my comfort zone, and hopefully have a great time doing it.

constituents

you,

you are not made of

blood and tears

but no,

you are not made of

milk and honey either.

you are made of

blood,

yes, blood,

and honey.

you effuse that

aorta-pumped

flow of passion and

rapture,

and life.

viscously making its way

through valleys

of smog and

cfc air

you do not turn tail

at the sight of an obstacle

because like the

god-given gift of

those buzzing queens

dancing on their

octagonal stage

you simply just

syrup into that obstruction and break into

two streams around it,

meeting

on the other side

triptych

somewhere

somewhere right now, at

ten minutes, forty-one seconds past noon

a child has

stumbled over a protruding stone

turning their honeysuckle

right cheek into a

marbled crimson

landscape

somewhere

somewhere right now, at

twelve minutes, fifty-four seconds past noon

two lovers are entwined

in a shaded room lit only with

bamboo sunlight passing through

the dusty silhouettes of circa nineteen eighty-two blinds

falling slowly on the

natural curves of the small of their backs

as their ribcages are interlocked

and their eight-oh-eight heartbeats

syncopate a rhythm that

no

bar lines could ever hold

somewhere,

somewhere right now, at

sixteen minutes, eleven seconds past noon

an aged homeless man is curled up in

the crevices of a

frozen

harlem sidewalk, gazing down into the cracks

as if to chance upon a hidden

pot of steaming coals

beneath the heartless city

Extremely dumb moment of the day:

I was taking a nap on the car ride back from Downtown and brought my right arm back so it was pinned against the window and the side of my headrest. We got stuck in traffic and I was asleep in that awkward position for about an hour, then when I woke up I jerked my arm forward, hyperextending my arm/shoulder and started cursing and yelling ow a like a madman.

Twenty minutes of icing later and the pain has died down.

I'm so good.

♫

There's just something about starting off the day with music that's simply irreplaceable--even if it's at 7 AM.

I missed you so much, AM Orchestra. I'm so glad you're back in my life.

(m. galasso photography)

carry me there

a man should be faithful

walk when not able

grandma

Grandma called this afternoon, after a day of drowsily wobbling around school and a deep nap on the car ride home.

You see, grandma calls a lot, but she always chats with my mom in that sing-song Shandong Chinese, and since I can barely speak..well, my mom takes up that time.

But today, my mom still wasn't back from work and I picked up, surprised to hear her voice on the other end--a voice I haven't heard in two and a half years.

It's interesting, how with my limited comprehension of understanding of spoken Chinese and my (humongous) vocabulary of about five phrases to respond with, that we kept a good three minute conversation.

She held most of the conversation, obviously, ranging from how handsome I've grown from the pictures she's recently received (through her newly founded email account) to something about my girlfriend (though I only recognized the word "girlfriend" and the rest was beyond me..who knows what she said--it sounded enthusiastic, at least?) to how if I never needed anything, ever, that I can ask her for it.

And that's when I remembered what it's like to have close, loving family. It's nice to know there's more than just one (my mom) out there, even if they're five thousand miles away.

And who knew that, even with a sizable language barrier, it'd put a beaming smile on my face.

That’s the thing about happiness--you never can tell when you’ve reached a peak. You can only compare where you are to where you’ve been.

all i've been listening to this weekend

talk about a good weekend playlist.

cycles

it's funny, how it all repeats.

guess people never do completely change.

a blur is really the only way to describe it.

i miss you, pali band marching season '10

m. galasso photography

IV

(a)

lone

(ly)?

i can't feel the difference right now,

the stress is smothering it all.

i hope i'm not trapped?

meltdown.

turn my head with talk of summertime,

that's all i ask of you.

I've found that I have a weird habit of using my middle finger when it comes to very inconsequential tasks, like casually opening a car door. (ok, this is going to be one of those stereotypically stupid [and more pointless than normal] blog posts, just a warning)

Actually, screw it, I should get back to organic chemistry, meh. I just feel like I flip too many things off when I don't mean it, like that poor car door. And those objects probably don't care anyways. Now I'll stop stalling work..after I grab grub.

bringing it back

mark galasso photography.

capturing moments and archiving memories.

what an evening that was.

feels like the first time

dci dreamin'

peanut butter is going to be the end of me.

electric minds

wild thoughts, feral

beasts clawing through synapses

sparks flying, sense dies

'10 shoutout

I'm late to posting this, but I feel obligated to.

Thank you to everything in my life that has made 2010 unforgettable. Invigorating music, quirky personalities, passionate moments, painful days, zeniths of success, those long friday nights, newfound directions, I could go on and on while get vaguer and vaguer, but if you've made an impact on my life in 2010, I'm sure you know of it.

If not, I'll make sure you do this year.

(stolen from emily. i love it too much.)