"I can't think of anything I'd like more than to be loved."
23.10.08
21.10.08
12.10.08
6.10.08
where does the good go by tegan & sara
"Where do you go with your broken heart in tow?
What do you do with the left over you?
And how do you know when to let go?
Where does the good go?
Where does the good go?
Look me in the eye and tell me you don't find me attractive.
Look me in the heart and tell me you won't go.
Look my in the eye and promise no love's like our love.
Look me in the heart and unbreak broken.
It won't happen.
It's love that leaves and breaks the seal of always thinking you would be
real, happy and healthy, strong and calm.
Where does the good go?
How do you go when you're in love and world knows?
How do you live so happily while I am sad and broken down.
What do you say it's up for grabs now that you're on your way down.
Where does the good go?
Where does the good go?"
blue lips
foods that turn your lips different shades of the rainbow because everyone should know the true happiness that is licking bright blue lips as the ice cream man drives away.
house of leaves
known
some
call
is
air
am
non sum qualis eram
"Which is to say--'I am not what I used to be'."
casimir pulaski day by sufjan stevens
"Golden rod and the 4-H stone
the things I brought you
When I found out you had cancer of the bone
Your father cried on the telephone
And he drove his car to the Navy yard
Just to prove that he was sorry
In the morning through the window shade
When the light pressed up against your shoulder blade
I could see what you were reading
Oh the glory that the lord has made
And the complications you could do without
When I kissed you on the mouth
Tuesday night at the bible study
We lift our hands and pray over your body
But nothing ever happens
I remember at Michael's house
In the living room when you kissed my neck
And I almost touched your blouse
In the morning at the top of the stairs
When your father found out what we did that night
And you told me you were scared
Oh the glory when you ran outside
With your shirt tucked in and your shoes untied
And you told me not to follow you
Sunday night when I cleaned the house
I find the card where you wrote it out
With the pictures of your mother
On the floor at the great divide
With my shirt tucked in and my shoes untied
I am crying in the bathroom
In the morning when you finally go
And the nurse runs in with her head hung low
and the cardinal hits the window
In the morning in the window shade
On the first of March on the holiday
I thought I saw you breathing
Oh the glory that the lord has made
And the complications when I see his face
In the morning in the window
Oh the glory when he took our place
But the took my shoulders and he shook my face
And he takes and he takes and he takes."
5.10.08
bike riding
i like the way my back wheel drags along black, velvet ropes of wetness after i splash through puddles.
shadows according to sylvia plath
"I thought the most beautiful thing in the world must be shadow, the million moving shapes and cul-de-sacs of shadow. There was shadow in the bureau drawers and closets and suitcases, and shadow under houses and trees and stones, and shadows at the back of people's eyes and smiles, miles and miles and miles of it, on the night side of the earth." (The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath)
poetry of e.e. cummings
"Almost anybody can learn to think or believe or know, but not a single human being can be taught to feel. . . the moment you feel, you're nobody-but-yourself. To be nobody-but-yourself in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else--means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight; and never stop fighting." (e.e. cummings)
appreciation of impressionism
"Monet's preoccupation with the effects of light led him to realize that each shift in light created a different subject, as though there were no continuing reality but only a collection of moments. He began to paint in series, with each painting catching the subject at a specific moment of time, as defined by light. Here, the simple yet monumental form of a haystack seems to have absorbed the glow of the setting sun. Monet would paint it again at dawn. at noon, in the snow, in the mist. Is there such a thing as a haystack, or are there only glimpses of a haystack in time?" (Living With Art by Mark Getlein)
out of an ernest desire for inspiration.
because i love too many things that would otherwise be left to let fade away.
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