From an interview with Thom Yorke

Thom Yorke: It’s like being trapped in one…space, like one point.
Thom Yorke: (holds up one finger) And you can’t go backwards and you can’t go forwards and you can’t go in any direction; you’re absolutely trapped in one particular space in time, and you cannot move on--because I use music to move on, to progress through life. And so when I lost that, I lost the ability to progress, or you start to lose the ability to interact, and it becomes like a vicious circle, because you’re just like this all the time.
Thom Yorke: (imitates being paralyzed)
Interviewer: So you’re sitting there at home all the time doing nothing, or is it….?
Thom Yorke: No, it’s just every time you go to a piece of music, or read a book, or…go for a drive in your car, you’re constantly thinking that you’re’re stuck, you’re like a full stop, and you’ll never be anything else.
Thom Yorke: I think the only way that you deal with it, eventually, is you--you just forget about it. You choose to not have a problem about it, you choose to go and see your friends and go out and get…drunk and enjoy life and just forget about it and just wait for...wait for it to come back.

Stanley Donwood. Part of his Holloway collection.


Stanley Donwood. 
Part of his Holloway collection.


We don’t even have to speak anymore,
Your lips never move,
but from your irises lucidity leaks and pours.
Transforms your world,
and bleak
and worn.
I sip
it’s sweet,
take my seat next to yours.
Is this a waking dream, or am I still asleep?
You see the lines too thin to be sure.
When you can see little difference
so you simply endure the grim and the grins,
Sinister souls will take no hold,
as long as there’s this light that blends.
Swirling paint brings brights between black;
Takes me back to my
balanced unbeaten path.
I awaken the flame from an unlit match
the whole world is sure to catch
And we’ll watch it burn,
wait our turn,
hands attached.
I’ll see you through,
and when I do,
again we’ll hatch
and learn again this skin we’re in can barely contain,
brimming from beings this big.
And again we’ll wonder and dig,
try to find out if this is all that there is.
I heard once that every life you live,
This is your peace,
This is your bliss,
This is a recollection of all that you missed.



61 Plays


Smoking cigarettes till all the other memories will go;

Out the window with every exhale, exhale;

I’m standing by the bus stop, trying to look like I’m not dead, inside;

I watch your car go by, but you look straight ahead;

I watch your car go by, but you look straight ahead;

I watch your car go by, but you look straight ahead;

oldd as fuckk

☼: Losing Your Mind,

Lately, everything I used to love seems lame; lackluster. I feel that I’m surrounded with lies as well, which is never a comforting feeling. It’s hard for me to entrust in you, as I feel I no longer know you. I care none in what you have to say, as I don’t believe it’s truly you speaking. I can…

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