Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds - Push The Sky Away
I’ve got a feeling I just can’t shake
I’ve got a feeling that just wont go away
You’ve just got to keep on pushing
Keep on pushing
Push the sky away.
I hope the exit is joyful — and I hope never to return —Frida Kahlo, written in her diary a few days before her death (via mrjoaquinphoenix
Icarus (Ίκαρος, Vikare); son to master craftsman Daedalus.
Icarus and his father were imprisoned in the labyrinth, after Daedalus helped Theseus defeat the Minotaur and escape with King Minos’ daughter Ariadne. Daedalus fashioned two pairs of wings out of wax and feathers so that he and his son could escape, and warned Icarus not to fly too high or too low. But Icarus did not heed his father’s warnings. Over-excited by his flight, Icarus flew higher and higher. The wax melted, and the feathers came free. And so Icarus fell into the sea and drowned.
I’m there in the water
Still looking for you
I’m there in the water
Can’t you see, can’t you see?
Your life is not an episode of Skins. Things will never look quite as good as they do in a faded, sun-drenched Polaroid; your days are not an editorial from Lula. Your life is not a Sofia Coppola movie, or a Chuck Palahniuk novel, or a Charles Bukowski poem. Grace Coddington isn’t your creative director. Bon Iver and Joy Division don’t play softly in the background at appropriate moments. Your hysterical teenage diary isn’t a work of art. Your room probably isn’t Selby material. Your life isn’t a Tumblr screencap. Every word that comes out of your mouth will not be beautiful and poignant, infinitely quotable. Your pain will not be pretty. Crying till you vomit is always shit. You cannot romanticize hurt. Or sadness. Or loneliness. You will have homework, and hangovers and bad hair days. The train being late won’t lead to any fateful encounters, it will make you late. Sometimes your work will suck. Sometimes you will suck. Far too often, everything will suck - and not in a Wes Anderson kind of way. And there is no divine consolation - only the knowledge that we will hopefully experience the full spectrum - and that sometimes, just sometimes, life will feel like a Coppola film. —Letters From Nowhere (via joydivsion