see, i've had a string of one nights with you.
and i've never broken principles till i met you.
but boy, would you grant me one more wish?

just one more.
for one more night, looking ever so dashing in that gorgeous whatever you call it in red...
...take me by the hands and ask me for a dance.
and maybe get down on one knee, with a ring in hand saying..."will you marry me?"

dear god,
why'd you create sucha charming idiot?

To amuse the fanatic in me, and perhaps a way to remind myself that i am normal.

***

 

For Vale Rossi, Every Day Is "A Hard Day's Night"
by dean adams
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
 

I think I have mentioned this on a few Soupkasts, and also in a story I did for Robb Report on Rossi in 2005, but don't recall doing so here. I've seen Valentino Rossi, with my own eyes, probably twenty times since I first laid eyes on him on the podium at Jerez in 1996 or 1997. And of those twenty times, in at least twelve of those instances, Rossi was running—Wiley Coyote-style—away from a pack of fans who wanted to maul him like he was the fifth Beatle and it was still 1965.

Welcome to the world of Valentino Rossi, global motorsports celebrity and hero to millions of dedicated fans.

Maybe you have to have seen Rossi in public in Europe to truly appreciate what a coup it was for Yamaha US to get him to come to their dealer show, and for him to sign autographs for said dealers. Rossi public appearances, or him merely going out for coffee in Europe, nearly always result in pandemonium. I know. I've seen it.

I was writing some notes in a near-deserted Castrol Honda hospitality unit at Misano in 2000 or 2001 when I turned around to see who was laughing behind me and recognized Rossi and some friends sitting at a table drinking coffee and talking.

Only, instead of brains, they wanted Rossi.

It only took perhaps ten minutes for the mood to go from good fun—initially he signed some autographs and shook some hands—to downright scary, bedlam. One minute there was no one outside the Castrol Honda hospitality area. Nine minutes later there were hundreds, and they were almost pushing the barriers over to get to Rossi. Women and men cried out, begging him to sign something. He continued to make little runs over to the barrier and he would reach into this gigantic and rapidly-growing monster with 900 outstretched arms and sign things, or have his picture taken. Then, on the last pass a woman tried to either run her hand through his hair or pull out a handful of hair and Rossi recoiled. The mood of the crowd ramped up to pandemonium-level as people realized that Valentino Rossi was right there in front of them and they perhaps were not going to be able to talk to him or touch him or get him to sign something. He and his friends quickly trotted out the back of the Castrol transporter and into a waiting car and were gone.

When it became clear that he was gone, grown men and women sat in front of the hospitality area and cried because they had not been able to touch him or get his autograph.

His celebrity swept over these shores in the coming years and Americans now seem to be Rossi fanatics as well. In 2005, at the USGP, a fan staked out Rossi's motorhome in the paddock and waited for him. As Valentino ran to the motorhome and up its steps, the fan latched onto him and was dragged along for a short distance by Rossi's momentum. The fan became trapped in the closing motorhome doors and called out to Rossi, the Italian's arm still clenched between his hands, "Please, I've waited three years to get this picture."

Rossi seems to roll with all of this insanity with a sense of humor few could muster if they were in his place.

"But, we only come here for two years," he said to the fan before quickly posing with him for a snap.

So it was interesting to see Rossi sitting at an autograph table at the Yamaha convention, signing autographs, smiling for photos. Things remained tranquil. There were several other functions for the dealers to do while the autograph session was held and, early on, there were moments when Rossi had few autograph seekers in front of him. He chatted with the other riders Yamaha had on site, spent a long time talking to injured rider Doug Henry, talked to the media and joked around with Bob Starr from Yamaha.

I asked Rossi later about his life and how he deals with it all. I seriously doubt there is anywhere in Europe where he can walk to get a quick coffee and surf the Internet, or shop for a new shirt or hang out with his friends in a bar at midnight. The monster of outstretched arms follows him everywhere.

Rossi didn't indicate that he found distaste in his life. He has accepted a way of living that would make anyone who values solitude or the ability to while away an afternoon by sipping coffee on the sidewalk and reading a book absolutely mad.

At times the line to get Rossi's autograph ebbed and he was doing nothing, just joking around with Lorenzo, or Colin Edwards II. Knowing my middle son Kipp is a Rossi fan, we asked Rossi to sign a poster for him.

I wasn't crazy about doing it, especially after all that I've seen Rossi endure.

But, hey, how often do you see Valentino Rossi?
 

Received this on an email from a friend.
Such simple beauty.

:)

***

As we grow up, we learn that even the one person that wasn't supposed to ever let you down probably will. You will have your heart broken probably more than once and it's harder every time. You'll break hearts too, so remember how it felt when yours was broken. You'll fight with your best friend. You'll blame a new love for things an old one did. You'll cry because time is passing too fast, and you'll eventually lose someone you love. So take too many pictures, laugh too much, and love like you've never been hurt because every sixty seconds you spend upset is a minute of happiness you'll never get back. Don't be afraid that your life will end, be afraid that it will never begin.


 

In the classical world, the phenomenon of "love at first sight" was understood within the context of a more general conception of passionate love, a kind of madness or, as the Greeks put it, theia mania ("madness from the gods").

An emotional condition whereby a person feels romantic attraction for a stranger on the first encounter with the stranger. The term may be used to refer to a mere sexual attraction or crush, but it usually refers to actually falling in love with someone literally the very first time one sees him or her.

I found that on wikipedia and i'm smiling as i type this. But you see, the problem with "love at first sight" is that noone really knows it if exists. Some say that it comes to us naturally - Instantenous Love - the minute you meet him, you know he is THE ONE. Some denies it and says tt it is for air-heads to romanticize what is more to be described as LUST.

I remembered the first time i experienced this so called "love at first sight". I was 12. It was raining, and he was gorgeous. The first word that he said was "sorry". And i remember him up till now. I always told myself that i love him. That he was "the one" (not until that a few years later i said the exact same thing, only for a different man). And now, I've lost interest with that man. I suppose it was gone as fast as it came.  9 years later - with 2 unsucessful tries for a relationship - i felt the same thing again.

I met him in school, and had a very awkward start. My best friends hated him because he was such an idiot. Even i hated him because of his idiocracy. But ever since the first meeting, i had felt that something tugging in my heart. Over the years, i've learnt from friends that i develop this thing called "bad taste". Falling for all the wrong men, because they were just simply...wrong. With this particular guy, it wasn't very different.

He was good-looking with a stuck up attitude that not many can bear. But beneath all those ego, lies sincerity and somewhat sadness in his eyes. And i only saw that. I was captivated by his smile and the way he forgets about the world and do what he does best. He was different and definitely, special.

I have this thing for challenging men, and he was one helluva challenge. He tested my patience in every possible way and only GOD knows how i almost gave up and quit the team. And so i said it again " he's the one" without knowing what it really means. It can't be possible, because we are TWO whole worlds APART...in almost EVERYTHING. It was very painful because he was such a difficult person to work with and i try so hard to forget him, only to get binded closer.

Probably you think it is just 'normal' and i will 'get by' this, again. It's just plain crush/infatuation/liking/admiration. What's love got to do with it?

It's probably not even anywhere NEAR love. But i definitely want to get very NEAR him.

Wish you were Here

So, so you think you can tell
Heaven from Hell,
Blue skys from pain.
Can you tell a green field
From a cold steel rail?
A smile from a veil?
Do you think you can tell?

And did they get you to trade
Your heros for ghosts?
Hot ashes for trees?
Hot air for a cool breeze?
Cold comfort for change?
And did you exchange
A walk on part in the war
For a lead role in a cage?

How I wish, how I wish you were here.
We're just two lost souls
Swimming in a fish bowl,
Year after year,
Running over the same old ground.
What have we found?
The same old fears.
Wish you were here.

-Pink Floyd-

gorgeous, gorgeous song.
so, you think you can tell?

Until i met him, my future was a line stretching out ahead of me to infinity.
Or so, i thought.

Revolving...
If fate is a wheel, then we are the cogs that drives it.
We have no choice to believe that this wheel is flawless and forge on ahead.
The power of the individual cogs and destinations and the blade that is brought down upon them.

Thus, the sword is brought down.

***

Power, eh?
Because he attained too much power, he can only be controlled by it.
And in the end , maybe the only option was to destroy himself.

He sought his power to change his fate.
What i sought was...a turn of fate?

Revolving.
And each time it's touch by the light of the sun and the moon.

The world is always changing into something new.
If there is one thing that doesnt change, it is my lack of power.

I can see spirits.
I am touched by them, I can speak with them.
And, that's it.

Sometimes, they just disappear like that.
I'm not sure why.
Sometimes, all that remains are blood stains that only I can see,
along with a vague feeling resembling pain.
No matter, how strong i become, i cannot protect them.

When i think of this, my heart is like a blade.

It's revolving.
Revolving.

If fate is a wheel,
then we are the sands that is crushed between the cogs.
We are helpless.
All we want is power, even if we cant protect others by extending our hands,
we desire a blade for those hands to grasp.

The power to crush one's fate is must look like a blade swinging down.
Is my power, the power to crush fate?
Or will i be swallowed up by this power, like him?

***

Does history repeat itself, or is it a line extending forward?
And if it is a circle, should we break free or reign ourselves to our fate?

***

We are without form, thus we are awestruck.
Thus the blade is brought down a second time.
Under the name of a mask. 

***

- ©Bleach 109, Tite Kubo -

The poet, inspired to pen down my thoughts.
My take on art of wisdom, love, life, reality and pain.
Struck in awe of near insanity in a sane person's mind.
A melancholy of here and after...

The pendulum, a swinging weight brought down in the daily basis of life..

't was nightfall, after a day spent, when life's true nature finally came.
thus yet we acknowledge that ticking clock, meant nuthing but heading home.

't was faster, when the days change, memories of the rain, it finally became.
yet that pendulum shall always remain, an esoteric time kept in vain.