Pretty plain, nothing seems interesting, no bright colors and nothing much is going on with this one, but this album included the best track they've ever recorded.
This is the album cover of Deftones named White pony, released in 2000.
They say white pony is the street name for cocaine.
Long ago I met someone named Toby, simple guy, always has his guitar by his side, plays it well, sharp facial features, deep voice, always thinks of what He says, seems normal on the outside but once engaged in a conversation, He will pour knowledge and understanding about the world, His world I should say, His sad and problematic world.
This guy's pretty fucked up inside.
He occasionally snorts cocaine and sometimes mixes Stilnox with his beverage, He prefers it with ice.
He never explained to me why he snorts that white substance, but based on his stories, His life is shitty and miserable, you can see it in his heavily eye-bagged eyes and tweaky lips, like a trace of something unpleasant and melancholic.
One day Toby parked his car somewhere, turned the air-conditioning on and slept through his problematic life, breathed the freon which killed him later on. He slept through it.
Toby was the white pony.
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Dada influence in this one is completely evident because of the cut-out collages on the upper part of it, it is a feast of both the famous and the anonymous, you can see Edgar Allan Poe, Bob Dylan, and an unknown girl sitting on a man's lap.
The visuals are festive, but the title of the album is somehow gloomy.
Sally was 16 when I first met Her.
Smiling while she was approaching me, "do you have a lighter? I saw you smoking the other day". I was a university student back then, While I was reaching for my lighter she added, "do you wanna come and smoke with me?" I answered with a question, "do you have a cigarette for me?".
Two puffs, three puffs.
As tar and nicotine slowly wallows into my teeth, our conversation started.
She was wearing a colorful headband, one like them hippies used to wear in the 70's, a watch and some wires and knots to go with it, her dress was of like Mary Poppins' but in a good, laid-back way.
I find her artsy image very interesting at that moment.
She was also wearing stilettos, but i know even if she was not, she was tall for her age.
She has something that is not common with most girls.
The peripherals of her glows whenever she smiles, the beauty of her youthfulness was pouring out of her eyes, it lit whenever she was about to say something, kind of like a fireworks display whenever something is about to start (or to end), a signal that she is going to say something and she wants you to shush and listen.
Our conversation went smoothly with some moments of silence to fill in the awkwardness we felt.
The beautiful strangeness of Sally comforted me the whole day.
I've come to know her more in the following months of the semester.
And as time passed by, I've come to know that Sally was a talker and She wants me to listen, everytime, anyhow, anywhere, everywhere.
After the mid-term exams, Sally and I were not only sharing cigarettes and stories.
Then the gloom inside her slowly took over.
At first it was crystal clear waters dripping out from her, like a faucet, then the water slowly turned dark with some rough, unpleasant particles in it.
She became uninterested and dull towards life, like a faucet, Her pipes was severely lacerated and damaged, the water sprayed everywhere like a gushing blood from a wound, and so as her thoughts.
A simple plumber cannot put a remedy to it.
I was the plumber yes, I tried to repair her, tried to connect the tubes inside her, hoping it would make the water clear again, but i was never good at repairing broken things, especially tubes.
Our conversation became perfunctory and most of the time, indifference is our topic.
I remember asking her to try and drop the loneliness, but it was like a voice inside a schizophrenic, tiny yet so powerful.
So, time came when i can no longer contain the loneliness she is carrying.
Sally has a somber heart. She was a member of the club.
Pink Floyd released this compilation album in 1971.
Relics: An object having interest by reason of its age or its association with the past.
Old things. Old clock, old trumpets, old wood, old materials combined resembling to a ship.
I have an unexplainable delight whenever I see old things. They make me wonder about their story, especially old clocks, they gave old people the old time, the time when there was no technology to complicate things.
Grass, smell of fresh air and trees to give you shade when you need it.
The smell of old things brings me back good memories, like a sexual encounter with a woman, stupid things that I did with a friend, or a really funny joke.
I often re-create my grandfather's childhood, his games, his experiences and choice of words.
The old world was quite different from the world that we live in today, it is simpler but more vivid, emotions were plain but true, not like those fabricated emotions seen in one of your social networking sites.
Conchita always speaks of the old world.
Whenever I'm talking to her, I feel like I am traveling into a different space and time continuum, a time where apple was a fruit.
She speaks of the purest sense of being free. Talks about simple joys, simple games, simple clothes, and simple emotions.
In the old world where character was not based by the likes you get in one of your networking sites, rather by the things that you do and contribute to the society.
She speaks of the nature of things and how they evolved.
Conchita was a relic, dug from the deepest layers of earth.
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This 28 tracked album is one of the few interesting things left in this planet.
Not like other fucking useless albums out there, the effort on this two disc album was monumental.
The album title doesn't say it all, this is not at all sad, well at least for me.
The vibe of this album cover is very astral and the color of it sends a strange kind of happiness to me.
They say Katie is dumb because of the following reasons:
1. She loves her cat more than Her smart-
phone.
2. She prefers to listen to poetry-dub while
lying flat on her room's floor with no
clothes on instead of going out with her
friends who often goes out and party.
3. She doesn't believe in heaven nor hell.
She says that all these concepts were
just products of the creativity of the
early pagans. "It is so perfect it cannot
exist" as She always puts it.
4. She has a humongous interest in things
which for some is eery and chaotic.
5. She overly reacts to the mundane, as if
it's her first time to experience
something common and for some people,
uninteresting.
Katie loves to waste time thinking about things that don't matter, often smirks whenever something funny pops into her mind.
No one had ever understood Katie wholly, there's something in her which escapes whenever it notices someone or something approaching.
They say it has been like this since something macabre happened to her, but of course no one really knew what exactly happened.
They say She was raped by her father, some say she is suffering from a mild case of litzsomania, others say she'd fabricated Her reality, where She has her own concepts and rules, some say she's just plain crazy.
Kant might was thinking about Katie when He was philosophizing about his theory about "The thing in itself".
Whatever Her story is, we will never know.
It is tucked in deep inside Her, where even one dare to enter cannot find nothing.
Katie is one of the few interesting things left in this planet.
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