| somethin' to show for yerself |
[May. 11th, 2009|11:53 pm] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | the gaslight anthem | ] |
this is how it starts by maggie hatfield
a small, first collection of writing for my senior project. check it out if you've got a notion to. it would make me very happy. :]
(i feel like i've been away from a lot of things for awhile. it'd be nice to get back.) |
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| call me a throwback |
[May. 30th, 2008|02:21 am] |
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at the point where i've had too much coffee too late and my hands are nervous caffeine junkies shakin' for want of someone to touch or something to say. alone and the words won't come tho' i can feel 'em shifting right there, under paper-thin layers of this newly-acquired self-doubt and time. the bruises on my knees know this feeling better than i ever will and at two am they're sayin' to me, we've been pressed against this wall long enough, time to scale it or bust on through 'cause sittin' idle ain't doin' nobody any good. be brilliant. STAY TRUE. tell your spine the throb is worth it because in every notch you're tickin' off moments of small, personal victories; every letter puts you one cadence closer to that rhythm you'll resonate with in perfect pitch. the vibrations in my knees, my shaking hands, the stutterbeat of this heartsick hopeful, i hope m'stumblin' toward something worthwhile and beautiful, and it tastes so close to therapy. |
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| please take note of emergency exits |
[Mar. 16th, 2008|12:15 am] |
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tonight feels lonely and wasted, like i'm never gonna be where i should. where i should is never gonna be what i tell myself i need, and want never comes into question except in vague images of things i don't deserve. i need a new path to walk, this one feels beaten and over-traveled now, worn into something full of holes and not enough space, compacted hesitance and the skitter-slide of a lack of texture. watch the signs, they'll tell you where to go. attention passengers, encountering reduced traction, please find something to be passionate about and hang on. something about turbulence and decreased visibility. severe weather delays grounded lay-overs waiting watching thinking pacing tired red-eye redline mainline coffee non-stop eleven(th) hour terminal nervousness. in case of an emergency water landing, the underlying anxiety can be used as a flotation device. i feel like i'm kicking so hard to tread just enough, fighting so hard to break surface. i suppose we all are. you feel most alone in the middle of an epidemic; getting by isn't any different. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jan. 1st, 2008|11:57 am] |
here's to love and being brilliant in '08.
that's all i'm saying. |
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| scrounging ablilities |
[Jul. 12th, 2007|03:06 am] |
sometimes i think i must have missed the memo completely.
(but, let's just say: if i were nix and you were winters, would you let me keep my vat 69 in your footlocker?)
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it's 3am and for the first time in a distressingly long time, i feel i could come up with something good. it's the kind of 3am thought that needs night air and coffee and a clove. if i was that other person who could handle these things and create and be under-the-radar-brilliant like we're all supposed to be.
there's so much i haven't said lately. i'm still looking for a way to. but you know i'm always here. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jun. 30th, 2007|10:53 am] |
rough hands,
rough season. |
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| (no subject) |
[Mar. 1st, 2007|01:45 am] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | with honor | ] |
i've tried to capture it and never found a way
'cause wrapping words around a love that made
palaces of parking lots and art of ugly hearts isn't easy
and life may never be so good again
i've been staring at these pictures so long i swear they're talking back
today is for the living
these songs we're singing are more than moving on
the only ways we're making sense of a world that's small enough to shake
but it's still strong enough to break us down
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what happens when we stop understanding ourselves and instead start taking this ache by the fistfuls?
we were jumping from those buildings just to prove we could; where the concrete holds us back now, the sun in our eyes as we look up at those impossible heights of memories.
and the words don't come anymore and the peace, the clarity doesn't come anymore, and we aren't sure if any of it ever really did.
were we ever more ready for this revolution? |
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| (no subject) |
[Dec. 22nd, 2006|12:37 am] |
you know how we roll. |
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