January 2010
49 posts
"She Already Opened Her Mustache"
My life as a long-haired child was nearly compromised this evening due to five live lobsters. The last lesson of the year: never put lobsters in your tub, never keep your hair down. Tonight, I am finally back. I want nothing to do with last year, the depression I battled, or the things that remind me of that. True to form, Merriweather Post Pavilion is blasting throughout the house that I know as...
December 2009
37 posts
Ophelia
I spent that entire summer with my back in the river, rocks in my pocket.
Waves of bath water bright grey with filth and moisturizing bar soap.
Limbs entangled with locks of snarled hair, seaweed of this porcelain bear claw tub.
A pool of cracked orange safety cones, harp strings, and shattered vinyl.
{Elliott Smith}
love is old, love is new
love...
She Did Not Say No
For a mere $2,800 I would be able to purchase round-trip tickets to Australia, see Joanna Newsom, and come back home. When I asked my mother if I could book the flight, she paused. I patiently waited for my yes. Instead she laughed rather obnoxiously, began singing Only Skin, and waltzed around the kitchen.
That is not normal.
Little Patuxent Parkway
I swear Rousseau’s ‘The Sleeping Gypsy’ has been painted onto my eyelids. Every time I blink that’s all I see. [Insert Lion In A Coma] I could easily lay here all day, eyes closed, Animal Collective close at hand.
If I could just leave my body for the night
Then we could be dancing, no more missing you while I am gone
Then we could be dancing and you’d smile and...
From Russia With Love
“The ornaments are all vintage from roughly the 1950’s and come from Moscow. We hope that, as you grow older, they will always bring back some very special memories. The vintage Misha is from the 1980 Moscow Olympics.”
Out of the forty people I spent that summer in Russia with, I was the only one to leave Moscow sans matryoshkas. I regretted it then and I regret it now. As a...
Summer Skin Has A 1500 Thread Count
“My life has no business occupying your shelves,” she screamed. Hemingway, Plath, and Woolf all tumbled over the banister landing two stories below on the marble floor. After her violent episodes with vinyl and glass you thought nothing of this behavior.
She worked in depression the way other artists work in oils.
The whistling of first editions falling accented your harp as you...
“While you were bereaving Michael’s death, he was over at Rachel’s...”
“Only God, my dear, could love you for yourself alone and not your (beautiful)...”
43091
If you will not come to me, I will go to you.
all secrets sleep in winter clothes
I’ll keep my ticket stub as a reminder that, yes, I was once impulsive and wild and reckless and had the ability to make myself happy.
One more paycheck and we’ll see one another soon.
I love you.
Consumerism Looks Good On You
Americans will spend $450 billion this Christmas. It would only take $10 billion to give the world clean water.
Watchand it’s one life, and it’s this life, and it’s beautiful
“The mutual conclusion was I’m not worth knowing ‘cause I’m...”
They Hook You Up To The Eastern Grid And Fill You...
“Let’s bake a cake,” she said
Her bones were made of coral
Worn down from the tides
With every movement the ligaments tore
Without her larynx the morphine alarms cried
The cake had finished baking
It stayed there all night until you remembered what you had been craving
On the counter you found a porcelain menagerie that had been left behind
Hand painted creatures...
Let's Talk Tom Ford: When The Moon Is...
I’d always imagined something more eloquent.
A proper goodbye, phones that don’t feud, a cinematic ending, your ability to forgive. As sad as life may be, it is always beautiful.
Throwing flowers into the ocean from Venice, dancing in the main square with strangers in hilltop towns, listening to that album for the first time and the million times thereafter, freeing Mordecai, pulling the ripcord,...
then press yourself against whatever you find to...
A Soviet-Era Romance
From inside the fleshy folds of renaissance skin she assiduously peeled the black and white reversal film from her lips and left the negative image on his tongue.
Drop-off dry cleaning and laundry. Gentle with the exposure now.
Covered In Ash
this Christmas I would like the gift of self-control.
14th Street–Union Square Subway
Indie Kid I: Nah, man. I can't listen to them anymore. I mean, try creating something original instead of ripping off 'Crooked Rain'.
"Indie" Kid II: 'Crooked Rain'...?
Indie Kid I: 'Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain'
"Indie" Kid II: ...
Indie Kid I: I thought you said you were indie.
1 tag
On This Road That's One-Hundred Forty-Nine Days...
Panda Bear is working on his third album, Arcade Fire is releasing their next album/touring this upcoming Spring, Fleet Foxes will be releasing in 2010, Bon Iver is back in the studio, a rumored release of Joanna Newsom’s next record, Fall Be Kind was recently released, I’m completely addicted to Hospice, Album, & Unmap, Contra and Congratulations are coming out in mere...
“When I’m lying in my bed, I think about life and I think about death and neither...”
Wings Wouldn't Help You
S. Plath
electroconvulsive
E. Hemingway
ETC
E. Sedgwick
electroshock
P. Coelho
I miss laughing as we got on at St. John’s Wood—and the sadness seeped into the underground.
“My body turns and yearns for a sleep that won’t ever come.”