• 28th April
    2013
  • 28
  • 26th April
    2013
  • 26

As soon as I get my head around you
I come around catching sparks off you
I get an electric shock from you
This secondhand living just won’t do
And the way I feel tonight
I could die and I wouldn’t mind
And there’s something going on inside
Makes you wanna feel
Makes you wanna try
Makes you wanna blow the stars from the sky
And I can’t stand up
I can’t cool down
I can’t get my head off the ground
As soon as I get my head around you
I come around catching sparks off you
And all I ever got from you
Was all I ever took from you
Yeah, the world could die in pain
And I wouldn’t feel no shame
And there’s nothing holding me to blame
Makes you wanna feel
Makes you wanna try
Makes you wanna blow the stars from the sky
And I’m taking myself to a dirty part of town
Where all my troubles can’t be found
I said yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
And I’m taking myself to a dirty part of town
Where all my troubles can’t be found
Makes you wanna feel
Makes you wanna try
Makes you wanna blow the stars from the sky

“Head On” - The Pixies

  • 26th April
    2013
  • 26
She was terrific to hold hands with. Most girls if you hold hands with them, their goddam hand dies on you, or else they think they have to keep moving their hand all the time, as if they were afraid they’d bore you or something. Jane was different. We’d get into a goddam movie or something, and right away we’d start holding hands, and we wouldn’t quit till the movie was over. And without changing the position or making a deal out of it. You never even worried, with Jane, whether your hand was sweaty or not. All you knew was, you were happy. You really were.
J. D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye (via larmoyante)

(via chaiivee)

  • 26th April
    2013
  • 26
  • 26th April
    2013
  • 26
The minute I heard my first love story,
I started looking for you, not knowing
how blind that was.
Lovers don’t finally meet somewhere.
They’re in each other all along.” ~ Rumi
  • 25th March
    2013
  • 25
  • 31st January
    2013
  • 31
Stuff your eyes with wonder,” he said, “live as if you’d drop dead in ten seconds. See the world. It’s more fantastic than any dream made or paid for in factories. Ask no guarantees, ask for no security, there never was such an animal. And if there were, it would be related to the great sloth which hangs upside down in a tree all day every day, sleeping its life away. To hell with that,” he said, “shake the tree and knock the great sloth down on his ass.
― Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451
  • 31st January
    2013
  • 31
  • 25th January
    2013
  • 25
  • 18th January
    2013
  • 18
  • 17th January
    2013
  • 17
  • 17th January
    2013
  • 17
  • 17th January
    2013
  • 17
I feel as though, if I were to extend my hand just a little toward the pool where the ideas ferment, I could grab at the idea and pull it out of the pool and onto the floor where ideas must stand before the jury of the brain. There, it must present itself, still from the pool, and a bit shivery because new ideas are not given a towel to dry off with, towels being reserved for proven theories; new ideas are simply pulled and stood up, and asked to explain themselves - not a very pleasant thing really, which is why so many people go into the room where the pool is. The exercise is exhausting not to mention a bit difficult to watch, if you are at all a sympathetic creature. What was my idea, anyways?
Emilie Autumn
  • 16th January
    2013
  • 16

At the Bottom

At the Bottom

It is obvious that I am back. I am a convalescent product of a too-long stretch of adhering to a world where creativity ceases to exist. The place I know away from here is a cell. I am mania long-since prescribed.

I hope that when someone tries to find me, that they will know to find me here. That they will know that I have left parts of myself in the coffee shops, in the bottoms of glasses, in the air breathed too often. I hope they will know to find me here, where people go to leave that world behind. But what I hope for more than all is that when you find me lost, you will know it is because I am not in this place, waiting to be found.

  • 16th January
    2013
  • 16

Get Busy Living Or Get Busy Dying

This has been said so many times that I’m not sure if it matters
But we never stood a chance
And I’m not sure if it matters
If you are the shores, I am the waves begging for big moons
I’m mailing letters to addresses in a ghost town
(your secret’s out)

I know this hurts, it was meant to (it was meant to)
Your secret’s out and the best part is it isn’t even a good one
And it’s mind over you don’t, don’t matter

This has been said so many times that I’m not sure if it matters
But it must be said again that all us boys are just screaming
Into microphones for attention 
Because we’re just so bored
We never knew that you would pick it apart, oh
I’m falling apart to songs about hips and hearts
(your secret’s out)

I know this hurts, it was meant to (it was meant to)
Your secret’s out and the best part is it isn’t even a good one
And it’s mind over you don’t, don’t matter

I used to obsess over living,
Now I only obsess over you
Tell me you’d like boys like me better
In the dark lying on top of you
This has been said so many times that I’m not sure if it matters

I know this hurts, it was meant to (it was meant to)
Your secret’s out and the best part is it isn’t even a good one
And it’s mind over you don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t matter

From day one I talked about getting out
But not forgetting about
How my worst fears are letting out
He said why put a new address
On the same old loneliness
When breathing just passes the time
Until we all just get old and die
Now talking’s just a waste of breath
And living’s just a waste of death
And why put a new address 
On the same old loneliness
And this is you and me
And me and you
Until we’ve got nothing left