December 2009
77 posts
Research.
haha this guy always keeps these images on his... →
impureunchristianentertainment:quiethouse:(via seanscheidt)
So cute!
Epilogue
In a nightmare, I am falling from the ceiling into bed beside you. You’re asleep, I’m screaming, shoving you to try to wake you up. And like before, you’ve got no interest in the life you live when you’re awake. Your dreams still follow storylines, like fictions you would make. So I lie down against your back. Men and women in blue and white, they are singing all around...
Watching Chocolat, feeling pretty gay.
cookies and tea and salami and a bedroom concert for two.
impureunchristianentertainment:
Lay Lady Lay -...
And then you’re like, laying on the floor of an art gallery, listening to drone bands play for two and a half hours, drinking beer out of a water bottle, thinking about how your evening holds only the promise of food and walking in the rain to a warm hot pocket bedroom where she won’t close the windows so the traffic noise lulls you to sleep.
And it certainly feels much more than...
Less than greater than or equal to
Last time I was home I listened to those conversations until I was still embarassed to be awake. I’ve said too much on both occasions, then and now. I need someone to shake my shoulders. Half serious. I need something that will fix these tummy-aches better than ginger ale. Holy trembling.
The temperature hasn’t dropped below zero. Winter doesn’t seem to be a real thing here...
Listening to Otis Redding at Christmas... But,... →
Lends me her home, my hero →
Know not
Spend the afternoon in a used book store reading childrens books. Come up with a lot of funny, oddly nostalgic and stupid. Read poems until I feel full and pretentious. Stumble upon a cousin, also reading poems. How small this small town is. Coffee, coffee, coffee. Slushy boots and lots of slipping. Have a visit. Get humped by a dog with seriously crispy troll hair. Feel gross. Tacos. Feel better....
“We should go out to more places. The way I hate everybody, makes me love you...”
Overreacting,
IS A HUGE PROBLEM YOU HAVE. YOU NEED TO WAKE UP. GROW UP. GET OVER YOURSELF. STOP SULKING AROUND. STOP MAKING SOMETHING OUT OF NOTHING. THERE ARE BIGGER FISH TO FRY. DON’T SWEAT THE SMALL STUFF. ETC. ETC. GET ON WITH IT ALREADY. OKAY, HANNAH?
…Okay.
And how!
Feel sick to my stomach. Funny.
There’s a boy across the river, but alas, I cannot swim. I will never get to put my arms around him.
Sappy songs for dirty lovers.
Used to be one of the rotten ones and I liked you for that.
... →
Are you feeling better now?
ettafungalsteins:recordsandpeople:
edith...
“Melancholy were the sounds on a winter’s night.”
– Virginia Woolf (Jacob’s Room) (via rememo)
The thing is...
I DON’T THOUGH! Like, REALLY THOUGH! Really!
Baby, darling, dollface, honey.
It lends itself to wear and ruin.
Santa’s snorting a line of eggnog off an elf chick’s ass. Trust me. We get different eggnog here.
“There are a lot of attitudes going on in here. Don’t let me get one, too.”
an overcoat will take me anywhere o, we’ve suffered enough.
indierawk:
Band of Horses - The First Song.
...
