Comme Les Deux Doights de la Main

(at Gaviota State Beach with Jack):

Jack: Just don't give up, alright? You're gonna make it.

Miles Raymond: Half my life is over and I have nothing to show for it. Nothing. I'am thumbprint on the window of a skyscraper. I'm a smudge of excrement on a tissue surging out to sea with a million tons of raw sewage.
Jack: See? Right there. Just what you just said. That is beautiful. 'A smudge of excrement... surging out to sea.'

Miles Raymond: Yeah.

Jack: I could never write that.

Miles Raymond: Neither could I, actually. I think it's Bukowski.


Sideways 2004





Your children are not your children. They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you, And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts, For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls, For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you. For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.
The Archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the Archer's hand be for gladness; For even as He loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that is stable.


- Kahlil Gibran




Elle: Are you okay?


Lui: Everything's fine.


Elle: What's the matter?

Lui: Voilà! That's me...I'm almost thirty. Still alone. Same damn face...
Can't change a thing.
Me. Screwed up old me.
No, that's too stupid.
Don't do that.
If I think about all the girls
I've known
or slept with or just desired,
they're like a bunch of Russian dolls.
We spend our lives playing the game,
dying to know who'll be the last.
The teeny-tiny one,
hidden inside all the others.
You can't get to her right away.
You have to follow the progression.
You have to open them, one by one,
wondering, "Is she the last?"


Les Poupées Russes 2005





I will come for you at nighttime
I will raise you from your sleep
I will kiss you in four places
As I go running along your street
I will squeeze the life out of you
You will make me laugh and make me cry
And we will never forget it
You will make me call your name
And I'll shout it to the blue summer sky
And we may never meet again
So shed your skin and let's get started
And you will throw your arms around me
Yeah, you will throw your arms around me
I dreamed of you at nighttime
And I watched you in your sleep
I met you in high places
I touched your head and touched your feet
So if you disappear out of view
You know I will never say goodbye
And though I try to forget it
You will make me call your name
And I'll shout it to the blue summer sky...
And we may never meet again...
So shed your skin and let's get started
And you will throw your arms around me
Yeah, you will throw your arms around me
Oh...yeah...
Ohhh yeah...
You will throw your arms around me...
Yeah, you will throw your arms around me....

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