Talk is Cheap


A collection of nonsense, thoughts, and ramblings that keep me up all night.

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All work by supersatellite is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 2.5 Canada License.

Anonymous asked: What college did/do you go to?

I am currently enrolled in the University of Hell with President Satan in full operation. It’s a grand time for all. Sometimes I even make his list.

Bigger Than Us

It took me a long time to shape my head around the fact that love itself is not capable of being contained. The cavities of our chests are not built to harbour such troublesome emotion. They simply don’t function that way. This is why we bleed it out, through our naked skin and our naked eyes. We sing our love and sadness to one another through broken gazes, and fragmented exchanges that communicate the vastness of our souls.

When I spoke to her last I realized there was a vacantness in her eyes, something I hadn’t seen before, but in this she possessed some sort of strange enlightenment too. You see, in the time our bodies had begun to pull and stretch apart, she had discovered something hidden in the fray. Her quietness reflected a private wisdom, an eloquent and yet free-spirited epiphany that I was beyond capable of understanding. For the time, she knew something I didn’t, and I became obsessed with the secretive knowledge that I was profoundly unprivileged. So how did I cope? Well, naturally I sought it out in each and every way. This is clearly how I operate. My fingers fumbled through fog and fray, trying desperately to understand why her lips didn’t turn the same way anymore. Why did her eyes shift so differently these days? Surely she hadn’t forgotten the way our mouths parted and poured our hearts against the bedroom floor all those vibrant years. Did she remember all the ways I had been dreaming of her too?

For God’s sake, I tell you I dragged myself through memory after memory. Daily, I sat and slept on the porch of our abandoned home — the grand construction for all our perfectly broken dreams. Seemingly, I thought I could keep our memories sealed tight like flowers trapped inside a glass jar. So ignorantly I thought I had all the answers for this troubled place. I thought I had all the answers for us, too. I was so obsessed with the need to keep it all in place, that I eventually had missed the mark entirely. I got so fixated with one thing, one person, that I didn’t even see the universe shifting around us. It was through my fervent misunderstanding that I had come to realize I had never contained this love at all. I never could. It was organic and moving all on it’s own — in me, out of me. It was living and thriving beyond all these walls I built in hopes to mindlessly contain it.

In the close of summer, I took every harvested thought, every moment we shared together. Throwing them like confetti, I had at last celebrated our love, opening all the boarded up windows and silently watching as the morning sun faded in. She had known all along, these simple things that I didn’t. I couldn’t. So overbearing and afraid, and all the while she knew how to sing without thinking. I could barely form the words. Our love was too deep to dive in, our dreams too impatient to hold on. In this new-found understanding I did the only thing I knew I could. For as every caterpillar grows it’s wings, it must be gifted the chance to fly. There’s no way to understand this world unless we live in it, and it’s inevitable that we are never the same person twice.

It took me a long time to shape my head around it, but I think I am finally starting to get it now. The best gift that we can give to one another isn’t borrowed in elaborate structures and hard ridden promises. Sometimes the best way to harbour love at all is to understand it and know when it is time to simply let it go.

#prose  #rambling  
Title: Aint No Rest For The Wicked Artist: Cage The Elephant 122 plays

My Music

You can tell a lot about someone by the type of music they listen to (not always.) Hit shuffle on your ipod/phone/itunes/media player and write down the first 20 songs. Then pass this on to 10 people.

One rule: no skipping (tagged by alwaysthegrieve)

For the seeker of excessive throwbacks, I give you my list:

  1. The Black Angels - Young Men Dead
  2. Muse - Fury
  3. No Doubt - Underneath It All
  4. Mute Math - Pins and Needles
  5. The Fray - Heaven Forbid
  6. Sugarcult - She’s the Blade
  7. Bob Dylan - All Along the Watchtower
  8. The Neighbourhood - Alleyways
  9. The Rolling Stones - Miss You
  10. Goo Goo Dolls - Name
  11. The Black Keys - Next Girl
  12. Arctic Monkeys - Piledriver Waltz
  13. Sum 41 - Over My Head (Better Off Dead)
  14. Incubus - Love Hurts
  15. Lykke Li - Love Out of Lust
  16. Little Richard - Long Tall Sally
  17. Blink-182 - Always
  18. When in Rome - The Promise
  19. The XX - Night Time
  20. Bach - Pachelbel’s Canon in D Major


"She’ll burn you, son. Trust me, it’s better this way."

I watched the girl I love die and rise like a phoenix in the sky. In her new-found beauty she marveled the world, feathers bright, and bursting with the light of flames that once captivated and stole my heart. They still do from time to time. I’d be a foolish soul to otherwise submit to such a lie. There are days I still look upon her so ardently but they say I cannot touch her anymore, not this way. Her radiance is but a light of her own and if these fingers unfurled too impatient, longing ever so, she might steal away. But when I see her, God, I ache and ache, dancing between shadow and light. For what is all the rage of a thousand fires matched to this demand to touch her flaming light? I found myself lost and parched for breath, twisting in my sheets through the nights. The fragile linen groped and hooked me like fishnets intricately tied. I’ve been caught all along, drowning against her crashing tides, and in this I grew frail and weak. I ran desperate into the fields, and like a beggar, I reached longingly into the skies for her. The weight of a man unenlightened can only carry one so far. My fingers just barely brushed the scarlet of her feathers and in one simple caress, life exploded within me like the burst of the sun. I was a man burned twice in one lifetime by a woman that cannot be contained. For when I touched her, I burned ashes-to-ashes. I’m now dust renewed. For you see, when she engulfed me I died but in her flames I became a phoenix too.

#prose  #personal  
Title: I've Just Seen A Face Artist: The Beatles 136 plays

The last time I fell in love I played this song continuously on the guitar. I was quite obsessive with nailing it in hopes to play it for her someday. She never knew about those kinds of things, and that’s entirely on me. I’m not a very forward person by nature and I withhold these types of things until they are ready to be vomited out in some perfected grand nonsensical romantic gesture. Completely unnecessary. I’m foolish in that way and I always have been. Though these days I swear I’m trying to get better in saying how I feel, when I feel it, when I want to say it. I’ve missed too many chances to do something beautiful for someone worth the heart, and I don’t want to miss out anymore. I’ve avoided this song for a long time as it stings like a knife and that makes me ache, but you know what — here it is. Still as lovely as ever, this is an old favourite. I’m sure you know it.

#music  #personal  
Title: I Felt Free Artist: Circa Survive 74 plays

It’s Not a Lake, It’s an Ocean


There was once a time this lake dried up and where it’s rivers once flowed wild, I laid tossing and turning on a bed of broken rocks. I’m not the bowels of lake fish and wriggling worms anymore. I’m more than the artist’s desire to paint cries like the gulls that taste and sigh the salt soaked sea. The earth is such an open place and in the midst of the drought I forgot it’s quiet beauty. I was hellbent backwards on making rules and guidelines for myself, promises even the sky couldn’t keep. I thought that life had betrayed me when the clouds swelled and opened up, flooding the chaos within me. I forgot I was only a human, you know, made and riddled with my own mistakes. When it finally rained, it poured, and in my life the rivers filled and bubbled over. They overflow now with the impatience of Indian summers. I burn with the heat of passion stowed within me and I want to live it. I want to breathe it. I want to escape to places that look like images on the front of neglected postcards. I don’t want to be that time you picked one out in the convenience store, when you thought of mailing your old friend, but then thought wiser and sat it down against the register. Fifty cents was too damn expensive anyway. That’s how I used to think, you see, opportunity handed, opportunity missed by a man too clouded with storms and misunderstandings. I’m finally seeing now and I hope you’ll see me too. I hope when you look off into the distance you see a part of me, a piece of me, that I’ve left behind in all the places I go and all the places I still hope to linger.

Title: I Love You (ft. Angel Haze) Artist: Woodkid 208 plays
#music  #god damn  

What Tastes Like This

The air was toxic when I felt myself gasp, a sharp inhale as I questioned the shade. The darkness feeds like a sealed envelop, pressed tight and quiet for secrets. It begged with me to stay all variations of silent, my voice pegged for prey. But silence isn’t all it’s pent up to be. With the slice of a knife I opened a doorway to places unseen. In my head it’s always been such a violent place, but you know what? The map is rewriting itself brand new. It feels like I dropped through a hole in the ground and landed in a wide open field. The sun is there and the reeds are blowing against my calves. When I look against the horizon I see it’s completely endless - infinite. It stretches on and on, and I know if I walk in any direction I’ll cross the length of the universe in time. I’m not alone out here where the air is clean and when I breathe it in I exhale out only one word — freedom.

And it tastes like this.

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