Lover, you should have come over
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[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]

Andrew Bird- Lull

Being alone
It can be quite romantic
Like Jacques Cousteau
Underneath the Atlantic
A fantastic voyage 
To parts unknown 
Going to depths were the suns never shown
And I fasinate myself
When I’m alone

So I go a little overboard
But hang onto the hull
While I’m airbrushing fantasy art on my life
That’s really kinda dull
Oh, I’m in a lull

I’m all for moderation
But somtimes it seems
Moderation itself can be kind of extreme
So I join the congregation
Join the softball team
I went in for my conformation
Where incense looks like steam
I start conjugating proverbs
Where there once were nouns
This whole damn rhyme scheme’s
Starting to get me down…

Oh, I’m in a lull
I’m in a lull


I’m rambling on rather self consciously
While I’m stirring these condements into my tea
And I’m so lame
I bet I think this song is about me
Don’t I, don’t I, don’t I,

I’m in a lull 

“A strange melancholy pervades me to which I hesitate to give the grave and beautiful name of sorrow. The idea of sorrow has always appealed to me but now I am almost ashamed of it’s complete egoism. I have known boredom, regret, and occasionally remorse, but never sorrow. Today it envelops me like a silken web, enervating and soft, and sets me apart from everybody else.” 

~ Bonjour Tristesse, Françoise Sagan.

(via f-loresco)

“ Do it, because a girl who reads understands syntax. Literature has taught her that moments of tenderness come in sporadic but knowable intervals. A girl who reads knows that life is not planar; she knows, and rightly demands, that the ebb comes along with the flow of disappointment. A girl who has read up on her syntax senses the irregular pauses—the hesitation of breath—endemic to a lie. A girl who reads perceives the difference between a parenthetical moment of anger and the entrenched habits of someone whose bitter cynicism will run on, run on well past any point of reason, or purpose, run on far after she has packed a suitcase and said a reluctant goodbye and she has decided that I am an ellipsis and not a period and run on and run on. Syntax that knows the rhythm and cadence of a life well lived.Date a girl who doesn’t read because the girl who reads knows the importance of plot. She can trace out the demarcations of a prologue and the sharp ridges of a climax. She feels them in her skin. The girl who reads will be patient with an intermission and expedite a denouement. But of all things, the girl who reads knows most the ineluctable significance of an end. She is comfortable with them. She has bid farewell to a thousand heroes with only a twinge of sadness.Don’t date a girl who reads because girls who read are the storytellers. You with the Joyce, you with the Nabokov, you with the Woolf. You there in the library, on the platform of the metro, you in the corner of the café, you in the window of your room. You, who make my life so god damned difficult. The girl who reads has spun out the account of her life and it is bursting with meaning. She insists that her narratives are rich, her supporting cast colorful, and her typeface bold. You, the girl who reads, make me want to be everything that I am not. But I am weak and I will fail you, because you have dreamed, properly, of someone who is better than I am. You will not accept the life that I told of at the beginning of this piece. You will accept nothing less than passion, and perfection, and a life worthy of being storied. So out with you, girl who reads. Take the next southbound train and take your Hemingway with you. I hate you. I really, really, really hate you.
— Charles Warnke (via atomos)

The concept of ‘tumblr meetups’ appeal to me, although they are rarely beneficial and I rarely feel as though I’ve done enough. I always intend to make solid friends and be very extrovert and not feel inadequate but it never goes that way.

I think I am rather odd, but not that quirky, attractive sort of odd, just the plain odd…odd. Now I am wondering if I will ever find a man as odd as me in my tastes in various things and in general form who isn’t clinically insane (we can all dream).

If you’re a bird, I’m a bird.

“ He was just one of those guys that everybody fell in love with the second they met him.
— Hal Willner, on Jeff Buckley (via jeffbuckleyforever)

(via fuckyeahjeffbuckley)

My friend has just moved into his own apartment and he was complaining to me about being lonely. I said he should buy a cat, to which he replied ‘YES BUT I CAN’T FUCK A CAT RUBY!!!!!’ And I’ve been laughing all day it’s so silly really.

Words I don’t like:

  • Regurgitate
  • Flaccid
  • Fugitive
  • Gooey
  • Mate
  • Spaghetti  

Words I like:

  • Melancholy
  • Humdrum
  • Ember
  • Sallow
  • Lilac
  • Velvet
  • Meander
  • Milk
[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]

Eternal Life- Jeff Buckley

Eternal Life is now on my trail
Got my red glitter coffin, man, just need one last nail
While all these ugly gentlemen play out their foolish games
There’s a flaming red horizon that screams our names

And as your fantasies are broken in two
Did you really think this bloody road would 
Pave the way for you?
You better turn around
and blow your kiss hello to life eternal, angel

Racist everyman, what have you done?
Man, you’ve made a killer of your unborn son…
Crown my fear your king at the point of a gun
All I want to do is love everyone

And as your fantasies are broken in two
Did you really think this bloody road would 
Pave the way for you?
You better turn around 
and blow your kiss hello to life eternal

There’s no time for hatred, only questions
What is love, where is happiness, what is Life,
where is peace?
When will I find the strength to bring me release?

And tell me where is the love in what your prophet has said?
Man, It sounds to me just like a prison for the walking dead
And I’ve got a message for you and your twisted hell
You better turn around and blow your kiss goodbye
to life eternal angel

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