October 2011
“Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It’s that time of night,...”
– Allen Ginsberg
“The artist’s job is not to succumb to despair but to find an antidote for the...”
– Midnight in Paris by Woody Allen
I have finally succumb and downloaded all the Devendra Banhart albums I previously haven’t had in my collection and now I am making a pot of coffee at 1.51 in the morning.
I still have a bloodstained dent in my lips for when I went to kiss your forehead but was a little too excited, and my overbite was just a little too overbitey and my mouth and your forehead crashed together with an uncontrollable force. How I have ever been shown affection is way beyond me.
Kettering - The Antlers
“And then I felt sad because I realized that once people are broken in certain...”
– Douglas Coupland
2 tags
“If you do not want to write, at least spit on a piece of paper, put it in an...”
– Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky
1 tag
Being happy is strange, I mean being completely and utterly, contently happy. Not the empty happy where you long for melancholy or for something, anything to happen. It’s like there’s a warmth within me, but instead of it being a roaring fire that is sure to burn out within minutes and leave me feeling colder than before, it’s like a tiny lightbulb slowly radiating heat...
“There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.”
– Ernest Hemingway
1 tag
I just had a strange hour. I kind of lost my mind, absolutely, completely and then wrong words were said at the wrong time. My facade just dropped like that and I felt so vulnerable and I just started spitting out words that don’t make sense and saying how scared I was of being hurt over and over again. I terrified the boy I was with, he kept saying he didn’t know what to say or do and...
To Build A Home | The Cinematic Orchestra
1 tag
I finally understand how my abstract theory of ‘home’ associated in a less tangible, more emotive way came about. At that time in my life I was really fucking down and I feel like one of the main things that kept me going was The Cinematic Orchestra’s album ‘Ma Fleur’ and I remember learning a song called ‘To Build A Home’ on the piano and it meant so much...
someone: just say you're seeing someone
me: am i?
someone: :P
me: bad question?
someone: maybe
me: lets avoid this question for ever and ever
someone: okay
How come all these people are doing brilliant things and I’m just laying in bed drowning in my own incompetence.
Warm washes rolling over fanning over washing my eyes balls and with fingers typing and pressing and with fingers touching cuffs of jeans and heartbeats slowed longing for less homesickness in my very own bed goodnight
1 tag
So instead of sitting around last night and completing vital schoolwork so that I can get my certificate of education, I decide to accompany some friends on an adventure up into the foggy Adelaide hills and watched them drink wine and put on terrible VCRs then fell asleep cuddled up on a single bed in a woollen jumper. I woke up this morning at seven to the sunrising to a beautifully overcast...
Coffee eyes, you are both the worst and best person I’ve ever met.
constant-surprises:
I should be doing my research project, instead I am sitting here staring at names of a bunch of people who aren’t talking to me. Back down the rabbit hole we go.
I should be doing my research project, instead I am sitting here topless eating an apple pretending like I’m some femme fatale whom is a seductress of man kind………. and watching community.
