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      <td valign="top" width="200"><font style="font-family: times new roman; color: #171717; font-size:12px; line-height:14px;">SUNDAY-LIKE MONDAYS IN BED </font><font face="helvetica neue, helvetica, arial"><font style="font-size:10px; line-height:12px; letter-spacing:0px; text-transform:uppercase;">lay lady lady — magnet
oneofone_rwrk — eli filosov
Flowers — in love with a ghost
Levitation — beach house
Begin (feat. Wales) — shallow, Wales
Simple song — the shins
Vow — TENDER
Playtime — l’indécis
Ask for love — Joey pecoraro
Let me alone — moow</FONT></td>
      <td valign="top" align="justify" width="300"><font style="font-family: times new roman; color: #171717; font-size:12px; line-height:14px;">I was about ten years old when I took my bike to the top of the hill near my house and decided, despite my better judgment and my mum’s specific instructions not to, take my descent at full speed and without even a gentle pump of the brakes. I was an oddly cautious child, thinking twice before jumping off the swings or trying flips on a trampoline. I identified fairly early on the uncomfortable twisting inside of me as fear and the more I felt it, the more I hated it. I knew just how likely I was to break my neck, but that twisting feeling clawing at me from the inside seemed worse. I sat astride my bike at the top of the hill for barely a minute before lifting both feet from the group, pedaling as hard as I could and letting my body hurtle down that hill.  My heart slammed hard in my chest, I felt a surge of energy course through my little body and I got my first real taste of speed and of looking fear in the face and telling it to fuck off.  The street curved at the bottom of the hill and as I reached it, still riding the high of my triumph, I tried to turn my handlebars only to find that they’d loosened from the body of the bike. Still at full speed, I crashed into the kerb, flew off my bike and landed in one of the neighbor’s carefully pruned rose bushes. I was bleeding, had torn open my knee, scraped both elbows and was peppered with rose-thorn punctures, but the rush still had me in its grip and I couldn’t wait to feel it again.<BR>
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      When I first saw you, you seemed weightless and airy, like candy floss spun up and a smile just as sweet. What a surprise it was to me when I got closer and saw that a similar storm rages within your edges and the armor you wear to protect it looks a lot like mine.  Maybe that’s why you paradoxically seemed solid, keeping me closer to the ground when I threatened to break free and float away.  I was so preoccupied with keeping the earth in sight, the breath catching in my throat whenever my view lost its detail, that I forgot how much I’d always wanted to fly.  Let’s pull away the plates of iron bit by bit, letting ourselves rise together with fingers intertwined, ready to explore the clouds and space and that great expanse of everything that could possibly ever be.<BR>
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      In my boxing club in LA, they’ve hung up various quotes on the walls to serve as motivation when we’re on our last reps and want to die or take an especially brutal pummeling in a spar session. These are my favourites.</font><BR>
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      <i>"The hero and the coward both feel the same thing, but the hero uses his fear, projects it onto his opponent, while the coward runs. It's the same thing, fear, but it's what you do with it that matters."</font></I><P ALIGN="right"><font style="font-family: times new roman; color: #171717; font-size:12px; letter-spacing:3px; line-height:16px;">—CUS D'AMATO</font></P><font style="font-family: times new roman; color: #171717; font-size:12px; letter-spacing:0.5px; line-height:16px;"><I>“Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the face.”</font></I><P ALIGN="RIGHT"><font style="font-family: times new roman; color: #171717; font-size:12px; letter-spacing:3px; line-height:8px;">—MIKE TYSON</P></font>
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<font style="font-family: times new roman; color: #171717; font-size:10px; letter-spacing:0.5px; line-height:18px;"><CENTER>me cartwheeling through life.</font></CENTER>
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