J. Razor (724)

J. Razor
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Moody; black sense of humour; fell in love with Morrissey in 1985 after I learned that he had also fallen in love with "Hoskie"... I am usually found in solitude.

Journal of J. Razor (724)

Saturday July 10, 04

Day Of Silence

12:01 AM

When you're feeling low
Try a day of silence
Take things very slow
Listen to the wireless
Never speak a sound
Sit up on the hedgerow
Watch the world go round
Peace will let your mind know

When you've had a row
Sit alone, say nothing
It's really funny how
You quickly see that something
Wonderful and warm
Lies between each second
In every silent hour
Eternity will beckon

You and me
We are part of a single soul
And one day we will
know we're one
Sit and listen, the word will come
There is nothing beneath the sun,
That we can't realise.
And one peaceful night
Will remind us that it's all all right
We'll figure we owe it all
To one life of silence

Whispers will emerge
Proud against the thunder
The wind hiss precious words
Erase our problems' rumble
Watch each petal fall
Hear it crash like sea-spray
Someone sees it all
We will meet Him someday

When you're feeling low
Try a day of silence
Take things very slow
Maybe listen to the wireless

~ P. Townshend

To outer senses there is peace,
A dreamy peace on either hand,
Deep silence in the shadowy land,
Deep silence where the shadows cease.

...secret valleys in whose silence I may weep undisturbed...

~ Oscar Wilde

Shortly after being read the rules of the prison system -- utter silence at all times -- Wilde was taken to his cell and fed a typical meal of watery porridge and a slice of bread. From Newgate he was taken to Pentonville Prison where he was placed on the treadmill. At night he was returned to his cell, where he slept on a wooden plank without mattress.

          Amor Umbratilis

A gift of Silence, sweet!
    Who may not ever hear;
To lay down at your unobservant feet,
    Is all the gift I bear.

I have no songs to sing,
    That you should heed or know:
I have no lilies, in full hands, to fling
    Across the path you go.

I cast my flowers away,
    Blossoms unmeet for you!
The garland I have gathered in my day;
    My rosemary and rue.

I watch you pass and pass,
    Serene and cold: I lay
My lips upon your trodden, daisied grass,
    And turn my life away.

Yea, for I cast you, sweet!
    This one gift, you shall take:
Like ointment, on your unobservant feet,
    My silence, for your sake.

~ Ernest Dowson

(To Eleonora Duse)

We are anhungered after solitude,
Deep stillness pure of any speech or sound,
Soft quiet hovering over pools profound,
The silences that on the desert brood,
Above a windless hush of empty seas,
The broad unfurling banners of the dawn,
A faery forest where there sleeps a Faun;
Our souls are fain of solitudes like these.
O woman who divined our weariness,
And set the crown of silence on your art,
From what undreamed-of depth within your heart
Have you sent forth the hush that makes us free
To hear an instant, high above earth's stress,
The silent music of infinity?

          Night Song at Amalfi

I asked the heaven of stars
  What I should give my love --
It answered me with silence,
  Silence above.

I asked the darkened sea
  Down where the fishers go --
It answered me with silence,
  Silence below.

Oh, I could give him weeping,
  Or I could give him song --
But how can I give silence
  My whole life long?

~ Sara Teasdale

There are some qualities -- some incorporate things,
That have a double life, which thus is made
A type of that twin entity which springs
From matter and light, evinced in solid and shade.
There is a two-fold _Silence_ -- sea and shore --
Body and soul. One dwells in lonely places,
Newly with grass o'ergrown; some solemn graces,
Some human memories and tearful lore,
Render him terrorless: his name's "No More."
He is the corporate Silence: dread him not!
No power hath he of evil in himself;
But should some urgent fate (untimely lot!)
Bring thee to meet his shadow (nameless elf,
That haunteth the lone regions where hath trod
No foot of man,) commend thyself to God!

~ Edgar Allen Poe
                                          A Silent Wood

                          O silent wood, I enter thee
                        With a heart so full of misery
                          For all the voices from the trees
                      And the ferns that cling about my knees.

                      In thy darkest shadow let me sit
                    When the grey owls about thee flit;
                      There will I ask of thee a boon,
                  That I may not faint or die or swoon.

                      Gazing through the gloom like one
                    Whose life and hopes are also done,
                          Frozen like a thing of stone
                  I sit in thy shadow – but not alone.

          Can God bring back the day when we two stood
          Beneath the clinging trees in that dark wood?

                          ~ Lizzie Siddal
great is Expression—great is Silence / Expression of speech!
in what is written or said, forget not that Silence is also expressive...

~ Walt Whitman
The silence often of pure innocence persuades when speaking fails.

Hamlet: The rest is silence.

  ~ William Shakespeare
But through the dark my silence spoke / Like thunder.

~ Christina Rossetti
In low lands where the sun and moon are mute
And all the stars keep silence.

~ Algernon Charles Swinburne
This is the silence of astounded souls.

~ Sylvia Plath
Under my feet, on my head and everywhere, silence,
The silence which makes that one would like to run away oneself,
Silence eternal and the immense mountain,
because the air is motionless and all seems to dream.

~ Charles Baudelaire
Silence alone is great; all else in weakness.

~ Comte Alfred Victor de Vigny
And can the muse be silent?

~ Thomas Chatterton
The secret Strength of things / Which governs thought /
And what were thou, and earth, and stars, and sea, /
If to the human mind's imaginings / Silence and solitude were vacancy?

~ Percy Bysshe Shelley
Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard / Are sweeter.

~ John Keats
In "Ode on a Grecian Urn," Keats explores the incessant mystery of the past. Left with souvenirs of past moments, conversations, individuals, etc., Keats is full of questions, intrigued by a silence so full. Shelley, too, in "Mont Blanc," addresses sound and the meanings and implications of silence. Like Keats, he realizes that silence is never really quiet, but instead full of secrets and hidden life: "The secret strength of things / Which governs thought...And what were thou, and earth, and stars, and sea / If to the human mind's imaginings / Silence and solitude were vacancy?" "Ode on a Grecian Urn" recognizes the contradiction of silence: "Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard/Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on" The past will always be loud because it is mysterious and sealed off:

"And, little town, thy streets for evermore
Will silent be; and not a soul to tell
Why thou art desolate, can e'er return...
Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought
As doth eternity: Cold Pastoral!"

What is the intrigue of silence? A silent Grecian urn provides a myriad of possibilities and thoughts for Keats -- would it be so interesting if its past could be explained? (Maura McKee)

Friday July 09, 04

"I Want To Write A Novel About Silence...

11:11 AM

...the things people *don't* say."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ from the works of Virginia Woolf ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

‘Speech is an old torn net, through which the fish escape as one casts it over
them.  Perhaps silence is better.  Let us try it.  Come to the window.'

‘It’s an odd thing, silence.  The mind becomes like a starless night; and then a meteor slides, splendid, right across the dark and is extinct.  We never give sufficient thanks for this entertainment.’

“I like walking alone, and knowing I don’t matter a damn to anybody,” she said.
“I like the freedom of it - I like...” She did not finish her sentence as if she
did not think it worth while.

“I want to write a novel about Silence,” he said; “the things people don’t say.
But the difficulty is immense.”

“As a drop of water, detached, alone, separate from others, falling from the
cloud and entering the great ocean, alters, so scientists tell us, not only the
immediate spot in the ocean where it falls, but the myriad drops which together
compose the great universe of waters, and by this means alters the configuration
of the globe of the men and women who seek their living upon the shores - as all
this is within the compass of a single drop of water, such as any rain shower
sends in millions to lose themselves in the earth, to lose themselves we say,
but we know very well that the fruits of the earth could not flourish without
them - so is a marvel comparable to this within the reach of each one of us, who
dropping a little word or a little deed into the great universe alters it; yea,
it is a solemn thought, alters it, for good or for evil, not for one instant, or
in one vicinity, but throughout the entire race, and for all eternity.”

For this reason it was so important what one said, and what one did, and it was
a relief when they went to bed.  For now she need not think about anybody.  She
could be herself, by herself.  And that was what now she felt in need of - to
think; well not even to think.  To be silent; to be alone.  All the being and
the doing, expansive, glittering, vocal, evaporated; and one shrunk, with a
sense of solemnity, to being oneself, a wedge-shaped core of darkness, something
invisible to others.

Heaven be praised for solitude!  I am alone now...the pressure is removed.
Let me now raise my song of glory.  Heaven be praised for solitude.  Let me be
alone.  Let me cast and throw away this veil of being, this cloud that changes
with the least breath, night and day, and all night and all day.  While I sat
here I have been changing.  I have watched the sky change.  I have seen clouds
cover stars, then free the stars, then cover the stars again.  Now I look at
their changing no more.  Heaven be praised for solitude that has removed the
pressure of the eye, the solicitation of the body, and all need of lies and
I need a howl; a cry.  When the storm crosses the marsh and sweeps over me where
I lie in the ditch unregarded I need no words.  Nothing neat.  Nothing that
comes down with all its feet on the floor.  None of those resonances and lovely
echoes that break and chime from nerve to nerve in our breasts making wild
music, false phrases.  I have done with phrases.
How much better is silence; the coffee-cup, the table.  How much better to sit
by myself like the solitary sea-bird that opens its wings on the stake.  Let me
sit here for ever with bare things, this coffee-cup, this knife, this fork,
things in themselves, myself being myself.  Do not come and worry me with your
hints that it is time to shut the shop and be gone.  I would willingly give all
my money that you should not disturb me but let me sit on and on, silent, alone.

So, after a long silence, “I am alone,” (s)/he breathed at last opening (her)/his lips for the first time in this record.

Thursday July 08, 04

Jack Jones...

08:24 AM

Waterloo Sunset

Dirty old river, must you keep rolling
Flowing into the night
People so busy, makes me feel dizzy
Taxi light shines so bright
But I don't need no friends
As long as I gaze on Waterloo sunset
I am in paradise

Every day I look at the world from my window
But chilly, chilly is the evening time
Waterloo sunset's fine

Terry meets Julie, Waterloo Station
Every Friday night
But I am so lazy, don't want to wander
I stay at home at night
But I don't feel afraid
As long as I gaze on Waterloo sunset
I am in paradise

Every day I look at the world from my window
But chilly, chilly is the evening time
Waterloo sunset's fine

Millions of people swarming like flies 'round Waterloo underground
But Terry and Julie cross over the river
Where they feel safe and sound
And they don't need no friends
As long as they gaze on Waterloo sunset
They are in paradise

Waterloo sunset's fine

~ R. Davies
The Place I Love

The place I love is a million miles away,
it's too far for the eye to see
Still it's me at least, and you can't come there
No one is allowed at all
Only animals that love, will always, only, ever could be
And it's always at the back of my mind.
The place I love is overgrown now
With beautiful moss and colourful flowers
And goldfish that swim in a pool, there's a small brick wall
With neon lighting controlled by lightning
I'm making a stand against the world
There's those who would hurt us if they heard.
The place I love is no where near here,
Not within a mile of those trendy do's,
Where dogsbodies pick you up, and graciously give you a lift,
With cherished thoughts and bitterness.
I'm making a stand against the world,
There's those who would hurt us if they heard
And that's always in the back of my mind

~ P. Weller

Wednesday July 07, 04

Anew Day

01:50 PM

Though they're tears round your heart
And your eyes are of stone
Every bright star
Will pale when you come home
Though the ground is wet with sorrow
It will always look that way
Everyone walk in brightness
Cause it's anew day

          Anew day

Spring and the rose again
Will see the living end
When your heart is sick with wonder
At a long and lonely way
Walk in brightness
'Cause it's anew day

            Anew day

Oh dream of mine
Not lost in sleep
I'll call you down
**With the love you don't give words to**
With the love you give away
Everyone walk in brightness
'Cause it's anew day

          Anew day

Is it better to disappear
Than just to stand so near a hole?
When your own hand won't recognise
your face
Makes you maybe go someplace

With the tears round your heart
And the stone in your eyes
Look out your change of heart
And look at the same skies
Over ground wet with sorrow
That will always look that way
Everyone walk in brightness
It's anew day

          Anew day

You and the rose again
Will be the living end
When your heart is sick with wonder
At a long and lonely way
Walk in brightness
'Cause it's anew day

          Anew day

~ Mary Margaret O'Hara

Tuesday July 06, 04

"Ecclestiastes: Free My Heart"

11:48 AM

The sun rises and the sun goes down
and hastens back to the place where it rose
that from thence it may rise again
Finding all things wearisome unsatisfied
my eyes not satisfied with seeing,
my ears unsatisfied with hearing
Wondering of that which is now that which has been
and that which is to be
For my time on earth I pay dearly for the past
Confusion embraces my heart for to know self
is to forgive self my sojourn of truth

Free my heart so my soul may fly
Free my mind of my worldly wants and desires
I look towards heaven with my arms open wide
Take my hand come and take my hand

Sadness fills my heart
Too weak to get by, slave to discontentment self-pity
I come forth from my mother's womb naked shall I return
to the earth to go as I came
Taking nothing of this supposed worldly gain


Free my heart

~ Me'Shell Ndegéocello

Monday July 05, 04

"The Loveman"

12:57 PM

You and I are having problems
Pretend you're simply me and I am you
Watch the way we weep and slip under
Making love before the evening's through

Say hello to the Loveman
You can't afford to pass Him by
Say hello to the Loveman
Now I've said it,
Don't forget it,
You'd regret it
For tomorrow
He will die

Don't you know He's in our town
Someone wrote it on the wall
Just for us He might be found
Do we really need to call (care at all)

Say hello to the Loveman
You can't afford to pass Him by
Say hello to the Loveman
Now I've said it
Ddon't forget it,
You'd regret it
For tomorrow
He will die.


Tickle me, don't let me hear Him singing
Dance for me, don't let me see His face
Sing for me, don't answer any questions
Love me, don't love Him, don't lead the race

He didn't even come out of His caravan
Just slung these leaflets out the door
How do you imagine that He's human?
Can't imagine what He uses me for
Never less I will

Say hello to the Loveman
You can't afford to pass Him by
Say hello to the Loveman
Now I've said it,
Don't forget it,
You'd regret it
Cause tomorrow
He'll die

Say hello to the Loveman
Say hello to the Loveman
Say hello to the Loveman

~ Pete Townshend

Saturday July 03, 04


12:08 PM

We're in love with our emotions
And with sadness they bring
We're in love with hunger, hatred
And with our suffering

We could be honest
Or we could be true
Or we could be blue

We're in love with the moonbeams
That flicker
We're in love with our dreams
We're in love with hunger and hatred
And with our suffering

We could be honest
Or we could think
Or we could drown in the drink

We're in love with our imagination
We're in love with our spring
We're in love with hunger and hatred

And with our suffering
And with our suffering
And with our suffering
And with our suffering

~ The Tiger Lillies

Monday June 28, 04

"Capital T"

07:14 PM

It was the right time
when I met you at
the Rite Spot
for a drink
There wasn't a thought left over
to worry about what people think
No, it isn't always easy
but it's good
and we'll never let it fail
I love this world
where dreams are made to be broken
and sheer stubborness
is broken less

Heaven knows
I'll lose my composure
(what can I do?)
I'll always be
in turmoil over you
Heaven knows
you will be provoked
by the things I say
I wouldn't have it
any other way

And in the flickering light
I could see clearly
that things were going to change
I love this world
where dreams are made to be broken
and sheer stubborness
is broken less
No, it never will be easy
but what's easy
isn't necessarily

Soon, when they see us coming
they'll say:
Here comes Trouble
(with a capital T)
but what's a little Trouble
between you and me?

~ WADE (from S.F.)

Friday June 25, 04


11:55 PM

From childhood’s hour I have not been
As others were I have not seen
As others saw I could not bring
My passions from a common spring.
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone;
And all I lov’d I lov’d alone.
Then in my childhood in the dawn
Of a most stormy life was drawn
From ev’ry depth of good and ill
To mystery which binds me still:
From the torrent or the fountain
From the red cliff of the mountain
From the sun that ’round me roll’d
In its autumn tint of gold
From the lightning in the sky
As it pass’d me flying by
From the thunder and the storm
And the cloud that took the form
(when the rest of heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view.

~ Edgar Allen Poe

Tuesday June 22, 04

My Life Is An Endless Succession of People Saying Goodbye...

08:00 PM

and what's left for me?
what's left for me?

At one time the future did stretch out before me
but now, it stretches out behind.

~ Morrissey

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