I like elfin people, I am tall, so short people are so adorable. Joan Baez is soooo wonderful, sexy, smoky, dreamy......
Enjoy the being, avoid the loathing.
BTW yeah brunch sukks, dbl Saturday and dbl Sunday, btwn 2 restaurants. Absolutley exhausted, I still have 6 days till a day off..gah...sorry for the typos, it is late n I am tired
I know that vey word (happiness has come to have an odius ring, in America particularly; it sounds witless and shitless; it has an empty ring; it is the ideal of the weak and the infirm. It is a word borrowed from the Anglo-Saxons, and distorted into something altogether senseless. One is ashamed to use it seriously. But there is no good reason why it... Read More
Thank you. I dn't have the brain power to respond right now, there's too much going on and I am running on negative energy and sheer willpower right now. I do have a response for your kind owrds though. I do. I'm sorry. Thank you *hugs*
Two headed boy
All floating in glass
The sun it has passed
Now it's blacker than black
I can hear as you tap on your jar
I am listening to hear where you are
I am listening to hear where you are
Two headed boy
Put on sunday shoes
And dance round the room to accordion keys
With the needle that sings in your heart... Read More
This is my second favorite Neutral Milk Hotel song, the first being Holland 1945 and/or King Of Carrot Flowers Pt. 1.
I have met very few people whose names have had any connection to their being whatsoever, I have lost all perception of value of a name. I much prefer being called whatever comes naturally to people. It's a much more accurate reflection of self.
*swoons* and you mine
Something is happening. Yesterday I reached state of exhaltation. I began a literary rant of epic proportions; I was radiant and people responded as such, I made a plethora of new friends, was kissed by strangers and helped someone I love to see how simple things really are. I wish I had the words to explain what I felt like, or could remember and transcribe... Read More
I'm here again, fog cleared, feeling awake alive and inspired. Restlesness doesn't just go away, I am still planing to fly but I see that as no reason to be misreble while I'm still here. It's spring!
Lookee yonder comin'
comin down that railroad track
It's that orange blossom special,
bringin my baby back
I need to get the fuck out of this country, it's slowly sucking the will to live right out of me. I am tired, sore, uninspired. I have nothing to say and worse still nothing of consequence and worth to think.
Next month my mother, stepfather, aunt and uncle are coming to visit me. They insist that I throw them a dinner party, they will pay for all the product, so I am pulling out all the stops and am planning the most luxourious meal I have ever prepared. Gary Danko eat your heart out!
No, I have it right. In fact I wrote it the opposite way when I first posted it and decided I liked it much better like that, so I changed it.
There is actually very little love.
If I am your toughest critic, know that I do not judge you as an amateur, but as a writer expecting to be primed for publication. And as often as I find bits to pick apart, there are equally as many gripping moments where all evaluating instincts are plunged into deep fathoms of... Read More
I hate to leave such a tiresome comment in comparison to such praise, but I have to admit I wholeheartedly agree with every word that was written. From what I have read, your writing is astounding and I truely admire your talent.
If I am your toughest critic, know that I do not judge you as an amateur, but as a writer expecting to be primed for publication. And as often as I find bits to pick apart, there are equally as many gripping moments where all evaluating instincts are plunged into deep fathoms of... Read More
When I think about the life I led as a child, images come in flashes; I have no sense of chronology, just events in isolation, a contextual void. Perhaps this lack of context is the reason I remember everything so fondly. I would run through tall grass, my bare, callused feet moving swiftly. My mother always told me to keep away from the mosquitos but... Read More
The truly great writer does not want to write: he wants the world to be a place in which he can live the life of the imagination. The first word he puts to paper is the word of the wounded angel: pain. The process of putting down words is equivelent to giving oneself a narcotic.
-Henry Miller
that was beautiful.
expecting whenever they ship my baby frog! no humans for me!
Enjoy the being, avoid the loathing.
BTW yeah brunch sukks, dbl Saturday and dbl Sunday, btwn 2 restaurants. Absolutley exhausted, I still have 6 days till a day off..gah...sorry for the typos, it is late n I am tired