plugin&play
If you read, you will judge. | ||||||||
My Dear we're slow dancing in a burning room |
Monday, August 3, 2009, 5:46 PM
Some place on the edge of time
Then the 3rd day crept in like a fog cutting through dew-kissed grass, slowly engulfing the green like a subtle parasite, and the days that followed pushed me and my poor mind into a state of remembrance, a sudden stop of relief and a sudden want of whatever i had lost. Everything. The smell of the room, the taste of the water, the sudden burst of fresh dry air that hit you whenever you slipped past the revolver doors, the constant stifling deadness of the air inside the theatre, the fluttering white of the pamphlets they give us, a quick 30 second hand made fan for a quick relief. The disquiet that filled the air like the broken banks of a river fills land in the dead of night, sudden slams of doors like war drums, sending battalions of brave men and women to their alcoholic dooms, the occasional beat echoing in the distance, constant heart thumping rhythms,tempting the body to get up and move, hips, elbows, shoulders, head, feet, we all moved as one. Music, the great communicator. Your drunken melodies echo across the hallway as you stumble blindly making your way back to your rooms, I sit, quieter than the dead, writing in my book, listening. Just listening. Knowing that in just days, all that i would be now, would be nothing more than what i was then. Now, here, i sit, thousands of miles away from where any of you are, split apart like a drop of ink thrown into a paper cup filled with water. A thousand different directions at a thousand miles per hour. As far as distant stars across universes, we'd never see any of you again. All my heart can hope for is the light, that all of your stars shone, hopes that they would shine forever, desperate cries for sovereignty over my recollections, hoping to never be forgotten. Ryan Adams comes back onto my playlist and suddenly i'm pulled back. Back to the nights when i would write, sometimes with you by my side, sometimes you'd be too tired, but i'd sit by the window and just write. Every verse seems to drag every inch of me back, and i don't mind, i'm immersed in yesterday. It was not enough, time never is, but it was long enough to last forever, for me at least. Don't forget us. Because we won't forget you. Political Scientist - Ryan Adams ao |
the machiavellian ist
Vanity isn't a sin, a little narcissm wouldn't hurt.Andrew. Music. Food. People. What more could you possibly want? |
partnersincrime
One day when i wake up and find the motive and time to link anybody, i'll let you know. backtoyesterday
+ This is Vienna + Snort. + I wrapped myself in a bag + And it's all that i want it to be + La Fille Danse + She's angry like a child, but how sweet. + City rain, City streets + I'd already know + But life goes on, without you. + I'll be seeing you wheni'mgone
+ April 2007 + May 2007 + June 2007 + July 2007 + August 2007 + September 2007 + October 2007 + November 2007 + December 2007 + January 2008 + February 2008 + March 2008 + April 2008 + May 2008 + June 2008 + July 2008 + August 2008 + September 2008 + October 2008 + November 2008 + December 2008 + January 2009 + February 2009 + March 2009 + April 2009 + May 2009 + June 2009 + July 2009 + August 2009 + September 2009 + October 2009 + November 2009 + December 2009 + January 2010 + February 2010 + March 2010 + April 2010 + June 2010 + July 2010 + August 2010 + September 2010 + October 2010 + November 2010 + December 2010 + January 2011 + February 2011 + March 2011 + April 2011 takeabow
An accidentality production Inspiration from DancingSheep & BONBON:D |
theventingmachine
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