February 2011
42 posts
and sometimes it’s more than clear, when morning comes early here, and i know that the day is near, wasted days make for wasted years. now i’m vicious with appetite, sobering half a mind, dripping with stolen wine,awoken by something i dreamt.
we fucked it up.
dear boy who works at petbarn why you so perfect looking
I feel it burning through my veins
oh it’s driving me insane.
“I like punk rock. I like girls with weird eyes. I like drugs. I like passion. I like things that are built well. I like innocence. I like and am grateful for the blue collar worker whose existence allows artists to not have to work at menial jobs. I like killing gluttony. I like playing my cards wrong. I like various styles of music. I like making fun of musicians whom I feel plagiarize or offend...
As I was walkin’ down rubadub square not a chill to the wind but a nip to the air from another direction she was caught in my eye It could be an illusion but I might as well try
cette coutume de cesse la pluie
I’m not a concept. Too many guys think I’m a concept or I complete them or I’m going to make them alive, but I’m just a fucked up girl who is looking for my own peace of mind. Don’t assign me yours
all i needed was to here you say everythings going to be ok
