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they're so natural religiously unkind
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| I saw a newborn baby with wild wolves all around it |
[10 Jul 2006|09:01am] |
and it's a hard, it's a hard, it's a hard, and it's a hard, it's a hard rain's a-gonna fall
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you've got a lot of nerve to say you are My Friend.
when I was down you just stood there grinning.
you've got a lof nerve to say you've Got a Helping Hand to Lend
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[09 Jul 2006|06:19pm] |
May God bless and keep you always,
May your wishes all come true,
May you always do for others
And let others do for you.
May you build a ladder to the stars
And climb on every rung,
May you stay forever young,
Forever young, forever young,
May you stay forever young.
May you grow up to be righteous,
May you grow up to be true,
May you always know the truth
And see the lights surrounding you.
May you always be courageous,
Stand upright and be strong,
May you stay forever young,
Forever young, forever young,
May you stay forever young.
May your hands always be busy,
May your feet always be swift,
May you have a strong foundation
When the winds of changes shift.
May your heart always be joyful,
May your song always be sung,
May you stay forever young,
Forever young, forever young,
May you stay forever young.
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[09 Jul 2006|11:10am] |
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Well, I see you got your brand new leopard-skin pill-box hat
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| just because he is brilliant |
[21 Jun 2006|01:50pm] |
She ran and bought her ticket and got back on the goddam carrousel just in time. Then she walked all the way around it till she got her own horse back. Then she got on it. She waved to me and I waved back. Boy, it began to rain like a bastard. In buckets, I swear to God. All the parents and mothers and everybody went over and stood right under the roof of the carrousel, so they wouldn't get soaked to the skin or anything, but I stuck around on the bench for quite a while. I got pretty soaking wet, especially my neck and my pants. My hunting hat really gave me quite a lot of protection, in a way; but I got soaked anyway. I didn't care, though. I felt so damn happy all of sudden, the way old Phoebe kept going around and around. I was damn near bawling, I felt so damn happy, if you want to know the truth. I don't know why. It was just that she looked so damn nice, the way she kept going around and around, in her blue coat and all. God, I wish you could've been there. That's all I'm going to tell about. I could probably tell you what I did after I went home, and how I got sick and all, and what school I'm supposed to go to next fall, after I get out of here, but I don't feel like it. I really don't. That stuff doesn't interest me too much right now. A lot of people, especially this one psychoanalyst guy they have here, keeps asking me if I'm going apply myself when I go back to school next September. It's such a stupid question, in my opinion. I mean how do you know what you're going to do till you do it? The answer is, you don't. I think I am, but how do I know? I swear it's a stupid question. D.B. isn't as bad as the rest of them, but he keeps asking me a lot of questions, too. He drove over last Saturday with this English babe that's in this new picture he's writing. She was pretty affected, but very good-looking. Anyway, one time when she went to the ladies' room way the hell down in the other wing D.B. asked me what I thought about all this stuff I just finished telling you about. I didn't know what the hell to say. If you want to know the truth, I don't know what I think about it. I'm sorry I told so many people about it. About all I know is, I sort of miss everybody I told about. Even old Stradlater and Ackley, for instance. I think I even miss that goddam Maurice. It's funny. Don't ever tell anybody anything. If you do, you start missing everybody.
-j.d. salinger
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[25 May 2006|04:55pm] |
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i'm sorry, i'm sorry, i'm sorry. i'm sorry for the people you made up because they are more real than the people in front of me. i am sorry that so much went into the description of his hands, and the shot of his eyes. oh my god.
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[25 May 2006|04:12pm] |
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[25 Apr 2006|08:56pm] |
and I'm not the kind that likes to tell you
just what I want to do
I'm not the kind that needs to tell you
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[24 Apr 2006|09:17pm] |
i can't write anything
just keep it in my head
that's where it came from anyways
why should it be shown to them
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[23 Apr 2006|02:11pm] |
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I've drunk your wine, you have made your world mine. So won't you be fair, so won't you be fair?
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[19 Apr 2006|11:22pm] |
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brother i can't, i can't get through
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[16 Apr 2006|10:55am] |
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lord my body has been a good friend, but i won't need it when i reach the end
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[05 Apr 2006|11:42am] |
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happy birthday to me
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[04 Apr 2006|04:03pm] |
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[21 Mar 2006|06:07pm] |
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spice it up with color, but what about when the steam rises and the pores clear out? it's so big and it makes my eyes weary. just because it isn't a gun doesn't mean it can't take away the magic in something. the print smears itself against my hands and i can't take off the smell, at least the body has a subtle beauty to it. if you're not destined to do it, tie up your shoes and walk off, set down the guitar and sway along instead of taking the place of somebody who is meant to sing to you.
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| the state that i am in |
[20 Mar 2006|12:30pm] |
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Belle and Sebastian were amazing...wow. Too bad I was exhausted most of the time, in a dream like state. They played the three songs I wanted them to. Oh yeah, and the audience was BORING!!
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[18 Mar 2006|11:44pm] |
Frodo: I can see the Shire. The Brandywine River. Bag End. The Lights in the Party Tree.
Sam: Rosie Cotton dancing. She had ribbons in her hair. If ever I were to marry someone, it would have been her. It would have been her.
[sits down and begins to cry]
Frodo: I'm glad to be with you, Samwise Gamgee, here at the end of all things.
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[11 Mar 2006|10:03pm] |
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i am constantly reminded of the young man who froze to death in the atlantic ocean.
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[08 Mar 2006|04:24pm] |
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Truth's like a blanket that always leaves your feet cold. You push it, stretch it, it'll never be enough. You kick at it, beat it, it will never cover any of us. From the moment we enter crying to the moment we leave dying, it will cover just your head as you wail and cry and scream!
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| coyotes |
[06 Mar 2006|11:04pm] |
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the most wonderful feeling is when i feel full of great things and want to write about it, but i usually don't.
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[05 Mar 2006|10:26pm] |
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fuck the academy
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[01 Mar 2006|10:23pm] |
When I left home, the maid asked me where I was off to. I said "Wherever. Whatever. Have a nice day."
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| moon |
[01 Mar 2006|03:36pm] |
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[27 Feb 2006|08:54pm] |
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In the cult movie Donnie Darko, Drew Barrymore’s character tells a class of English Literature pupils about a British writer who said "cellar door" was the most beautiful sounding combination of words in the English language. The writer was JRR Tolkien, author of The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings, and hero to millions of schoolboys.
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[25 Feb 2006|10:54am] |
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does anyone know any good places for uploading pictures because photobucket never lets me do PNG
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[25 Feb 2006|10:28am] |
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[24 Feb 2006|08:29pm] |
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I need to be better
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[23 Feb 2006|09:10pm] |
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there was a piece of beef in my chow mien...what the fuck i am so upset
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[16 Feb 2006|01:05am] |
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the winter winds blow in a month late, the sad sounds stitch themselves into the trees, i can feel your warm breath on my cheeks from a year ago, it still stays close.
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[12 Feb 2006|11:43am] |
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purple and red skies, a meteor shower of magenta, blue blushing cheeks. a melting heart in your palm, baby blocks by four, a smile to crack all of those ceramic birds you collect. a friend on your finger, you curl it in, a string on my pinky tied into a tight bow.
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[12 Feb 2006|11:31am] |
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When some girls cry I see Nebula's and moons floating down their cheeks, burning their skin. Things that far away should stay in their pocket of cloth, sewn together with impossibility.
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[12 Feb 2006|11:16am] |
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sun gloves, fish flower, iron violin.
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[09 Feb 2006|04:14pm] |
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[07 Feb 2006|03:50pm] |
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how can you justify fur, give it to me, i want to know.
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[06 Feb 2006|11:57am] |
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nothing is keeping me interested, do any of you know of any good books? especially sad ones.
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[04 Feb 2006|01:29am] |
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I could wear a brown hat, kill a dragon and carry its heart on one of my sleeves for the whole world to see, just to be a boy. They can drag me out in red and pile gems onto my chest, and I'll stare into the mirror and think to myself, I should be in the dirt, I should dig my nails into something dirty; taste life. I could break my eyes and pull out chunks of stones but still smell the midwest on my jacket, lingering like a bad cough that just becomes a habit. You say things in my ear in spanish, you mix it up with english and i close my eyes and pretend that i'm a boy. How am I supposed to love myself when I'm stuck in a house, when I should be rushing through the rivers and guarding the sheep? How am I supposed to dream when my mind doesn't work at night, and during the day I'm too focused on the light.
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