SUPERIOR ATTACK

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08/02/10--20:10: DE Poem (chan 1832890)

Though we may complain, while things stay the same
The thrum of distant lands dazzle our virgin eyes;
When we look back to the humid midyear
With the buzz of cicadas in our ears
And free water ice drawing large lines
We have no recourse but to find
Delaware is perfectly fine.




08/17/10--13:47: Hurm. (chan 1832890)

I’ll never know how you do it.

Raised up this girl without your fucked up influences.

She was some sour-sweet high school girl.

At that moment, most difficult in the world.

You shut me down without so much as a word.

A black guy love a white girl?

How absurd.




08/17/10--14:24: You're Always Only Dreaming (Nonsense.) (chan 1832890)

Eschewing the fragments of possible futures

In the night my mind’s flipping through the pages of Kama Sutra

I never imagined you’d have such an eloquent emotional vocab established

You were like a bold Rosetta Stone next to my pitiful fragment.

Manic Pixie Dream Girl, you’re just an archetype

Even if I thought you might bring some spark to my life.

It may just be my imagination

but I imagine that my answer wasn’t quite to your liking

I have an inkling that you might just have some sort of way you like me

Regardless when we speak I’m struck by greased lightning (it’s electrifying).

If you’re quiet I may just be too oblivious to see your feelings

If you’re loud I might be hesitant that a relationship would leave me reeling.

I’m stuck in the middle but I’m not with you.

I still want a change of perspective ‘cause I see a storm that continues to brew.

I want to circumvent this 21st century story of romance

Maybe we’d better have one night with a hot strip/dance.

I’m lusting, maybe loving, listening to La Roux.

I’m tangled up in circles and it’s all because of you.

I don’t want to do this with any modicum of uncertain feeling,

lest I end up with a distressed face staring at some motel ceiling.

Why can’t it be you and me and you finding ways to combine moving?

Doing “awful” things that we probably should not be doing?

(Why do you have organs you don’t really have…?)

Or what if I express this and you leave me standing there

on a football field while I zone out looking at your sun-drenched hair?

I’m more confused than I thought I’d be,

since I thought I’d really grown.

It seems there are still tons of things that to me remain unknown.

18th birthday past, nothing’s really changed.

Maybe it’s not the picture I’m displeased with, but the frame.

Despite the way this all sounds, I’m not very sad.

Maybe this introspection’s just the summer’s passing fad.

I’m happy with the way life’s going; the fierce sun makes it glisten.

I’ve learned some things since I took the time to stop and give advice a listen.

So it may just be that things will resolve themselves in a way that’s all too keen

In a translucent pane of ice that presents a future heretofore unseen.




08/22/10--20:38: Spontaneity (chan 1832890)

The world is a small town, get to know your neighbors

If variety is the spice of life, then I’m Baskin Robbins 31 unique flavors.

I crave the interpersonal connections of the day.

I won’t bite you so there’s no need to stand so far away.

Back in the day the community was the most important

So don’t approach people like you need a search warrant

Be warm, man, (or miss too, to be all inclusive)

I’ll come say hi, and I won’t act like I’m intrusive.

Trying to chat up that fine chick that you think is so elusive

9 times out of 10 you probably come off as a nuisance.

So loose that mindset and you’ll be alright

Just hang out and chill and you’ll seize the best of your life.




09/01/10--16:41: Introduce Yourself (chan 1832890)

“Who are you? Rather, who would you say you are?”

    Ralph fixed the tall doctor with a blank stare. “That’s fuckin’ stupid, Doc. Everyone always asks themselves that same damn question. ‘Who am I?’ If you need to know who you are, check the name tag on your shirt. If you’re not working and don’t have a name tag, then you’re a nobody anyway. Simple as that.” Ralph had a name tag. It read “Ralph Pritchard.”
    Ralph also had an unwavering certainty about who he was. He was not like every other young man of around twenty years of age. He never bothered to ask himself any existential questions. He would get a job at some sort of business, he’d marry a good-lookin’ blonde, and he’d have a nice house. He knew this. There was no doubt in his mind. Everyone else was just wasting their damn time thinking about shit that didn’t matter. Except, Ralph wasn’t who he believed he was. Ralph believed he was a muscular young man of twenty-three. In reality, he was a scraggly wisp of a man at 45.
    “Alright, Ralph.”
    “What about you, Doc? Who in the hell are you anyway? You don’t even have any pictures of little kids or a wife in your office. All the little kid pictures the dirty kind? The kind that get you locked up?”
    “Funny joke, Ralph. You don’t need to know who I am. For now, I’m your doctor. And considering the state you’re in, it wouldn’t do to be dispensing any personal information. One can never be too cautious, hmm?” Ralph didn’t really understand that last part. Then again, there were a lot of things he didn’t understand lately. Like why his mother had been crying when the police officers had taken him in. They were pretty easy with him. They’d just slapped on some handcuffs, no big deal…handcuffs. Handcuffs were arousing. Like that time his boyfriend had cuffed him to the bed and started with his breasts…or the time when he had murdered unsuspecting Mr. Morris.
    Wait—murder? That last thought startled Ralph. He’d never murder anyone! He wondered where such an idea had come from, and decided that he’d better lay off the horror movies. They were getting to his head. “…so you’re going to be kept here for a few more days while we figure out what to do with you, alright?” Doc looked quizzically at Ralph. “You weren’t paying attention at all, were you?” Damn nut job; why do I have to be stuck working with the unstable one this time? They should just let me sedate him until he can’t think anymore and then lock him up for good.
    Doc of course kept a blank face on while he said that. A blank face with just a hint of a smile. That’s what the guy who had taught him everything he needed to know had told him would work best. “Keeps the manic ones happy, and the crazy ones thinking you’re neutral enough not to fuck with you.” Best advice he’d ever received. Especially after that poor Linda Ackerman girl gotten attacked by that a few months ago. Everyone at Shady Palms Mental Corrections facility had been on a slight edge since then, but tried not to show it. You had to be as calm as possible in this line of work.
Especially when the line between who was really sane and not was about as clear as the chicken-scratch on the med bottles…




09/02/10--21:43: Enamored (chan 1832890)

“The first person I ever truly loved was…myself.”

    Thomas Lee forced himself out of bed with a grumble that sounded suspiciously like “…damn stupid girl jumping to conclusions not like I even did anything.” His recent attempts at a relationship weren’t working out so well. Actually, that was an understatement. He had gone so far as holding open doors, pulling out chairs, and doing other “lame” things that he assumed people did decades ago.
    Despite such efforts, though, his date the night before had ended in him being drenched in a bucket of ice-cold water. And it had been a cool sixty-five degrees out that night. And Tom had ridden with her, so he had to wait for one of his friends to pick him up. Tom was definitely never talking to that girl again. He shambled to the bathroom to do the first thing any man wants to do in the morning: urinate. As he pissed, he thought ‘there’s nobody out there who’s worth my time, anyway.’
    Tommy Boy was your classic, conceited young jerk. He thought he was the best-looking, best-smelling, most well-spoken, and overall best guy he knew. Whatever girl he was going to be with had to measure up to his insanely high standards. This lead him to act generally like an ass. This latest girl, Charlotte, had thought that he was ridiculously handsome, but the best looks won’t inspire attraction where the mind is vapid and the tongue prone to slip. So she had done what any self-respecting girl would do: humiliate him and walk away without so much as a backwards glance.
    Gah. He flushed the toilet and let his thoughts swirl away from his mind. The sun was stabbing itself harshly through his bedroom curtains, so he knew it was sometime around ten, and therefore too early to start his day. Such was the life of a college student. C’est la vie and all that jazz. As soon as he crawled back beneath the covers, his eyes had slammed shut like the door in his face when he had tried to walk after Charlotte.
    Tom dreamt. He dreamt that he was in his bedroom. He would’ve thought that he was still awake, except that as soon as his vision had fully returned to him, he saw a white figure in the shape of a man. He didn’t know, but he felt that the shape was himself. It stood there before the door, and he felt it was staring at him. He could not be sure, however, for it had no features; it was merely the outline of a man filled in with white…space.
    “Get the hell out and lemme get—”
    “ Shut up. Shut. Up. You’re going to listen to me,” the form said to him without words, sounding harsh and cold, “and you’re going to listen well. You’re a stain. You think the world of yourself, though you’re worth less than a speck to it. You piss away your good fortune, you consider no one besides yourself. You’re a poor excuse for a man.”
    The figure then started to shift as it approached him, rounding slightly at the hips and chest. The jaw line became less sharp, a bulge in the neck receded, and the light filling the shape became dim and grey. It reached a sharp, thin-fingered hand out to caress his face; only the slightest force would be needed to pierce his skin. Then the form spoke in the voice of a woman:
    “But I love you. You needn’t change. The world must change to accommodate you. To recognize you as the ideal image of a man. Then you can have me. You can have anything…” 
    The figure reverted to blindingly white, then all-encompassing black. The outline of the thing blurred and then the figure exploded and vanished. Tom awake with a start, not knowing what the dream had meant.




09/03/10--21:42: Offspring (chan 1832890)

Clink! 15-year-old Harris Johnson had expected to go to jail many times, for many different reasons. But how he had finally ended up there was so much the opposite of how he had thought he would that it almost made him chuckle. Almost. But this was no time for humor. The large, overbearing officer continued to watch him while he waited for his superior to arrive and so that this whole mess could get sorted out.
    What made his current situation worse was that he had no idea whether his efforts would ultimately be in vain. He had no clue where his parents were. When he had figured he had a good chance at escape, he ran and didn’t chance a look backwards. At least the reverse was true as well.  He loathed his parents and had since he was seven. That was because on his seventh birthday, Harris had witnessed murder for the first time.
    It had started out as any seventh birthday would: waking up to “Happy Birthday” and “You’re getting old on me, Champ” coupled with warm smiles and warmer embraces. He had gotten the only present he really wanted: a new paintball gun. A lot of people said that he was too young to be handling a thing like that. To be fair, you could really hurt someone with a paintball gun, but he had taken two safety courses, and always followed the rules to a tee. His father said he was a natural shot. That shooting came as naturally as breathing. It ran in his blood.
    Those were not to be hollow words however. As much as Harris seemed an undeclared pacifist, his father eyes sparkled with glee when he watched his son at the shooting range. 3 rounds at center mass every time since he had begun two years prior. Tonight there was another surprise in stock for young Harris: he’d be moving up to a real gun. That was when the fun would begin.
    “Alright, Harris. Go outside and practice with that bad boy, why don’tcha? I want to talk with Mom about something. Be careful you don’t hit Rosco, though. Mrs. Abernathy would have a fit.” His son walked out to the backyard obediently. Stephen crept slowly over to his wife, Lucille, his eyes wandering about her body. He came up behind her and hugged her around the midsection, giving her a quick kiss on the neck.
    “Hey there, Mr. Your son is just outside. Let’s not be too hasty, hmm?” she playfully scolded him. “Not even some quick fun? Anyway, we need to talk about tonight while we’ve got the chance.”
    “But we’ve already got it all planned out, right? Out of here by 5, there at 6, everything ready half-past then. Your ‘friends’ are going to meet us with the surprise, and Harris is going to get the experience of a lifetime. Just like we’ve planned for years. I just know he’s going to love it!” Lucille couldn’t help but get worked up. They had been planning this since Harris was born. They were insistent that nothing interrupt this perfect day. After tonight, they’d be an inseparable family.    
    “That’s right. I just wanted to let you know that there’s a minor change in plans. His second present is going to be a little larger than we planned.” His wife shot him a look. “I know, I know. But I think he deserves it. He’s shown that he’s ready for something a little…better.” He was going to have to pay her back for this one, but it was worth it. He knew his son would live up to and likely surpass his parents’ expectations. He could not wait until the moment where he could pat his son on the back and say “There you go, ———!”








11/19/10--18:23: matthewgallaway: By Jim Kazanjian (via Designboom) (chan 1832890)





matthewgallaway:

By Jim Kazanjian (via Designboom)




12/04/10--11:43: Struggle (chan 1832890)

So Rich came down and talked to me about the conversation that Mom and I had this morning. He said what she had said: they feel that there is a lack of trust because I’m not forthcoming enough. It feels like it’s being pounded into me. Open up, open up, open up. It’s not a bad thing. I just don’t know how. I’ve been like this for so long, and I don’t even know why. Why can’t I let anyone know me? Why are Breanna and Alan the only ones? Why can’t I just say how I feel? It’s been like this since I was a little kid. Then it was just trivial things, but now that things aren’t so trivial all of the time, it’s not a good way to operate. I know that, I I know I need to change. I just don’t know how.
    It even manifests itself like this. I’m using this as a crutch, because I don’t have to look anyone in the eye when I type this. Sometime soon, I swear to myself I’ll stop just saying it and actually work on saying these things instead of writing them. It’s because of how quiet I was when I was younger. I know that. Mom says I wasn’t shy, but I swear I was. Maybe even then I was just a natural at putting on a blank face. Or shutting people out, whichever. All I can say is, as a young boy, I was in my head all of the time, and I didn’t know how to put a word to my thoughts. It’s like when I was told I was going to skip the 2nd grade. I feel like it took me a while to actually come out and say that while the fact of the situation was going to be beneficial, and I knew that, at the same time, I absolutely hated and loathed it, and I didn’t want to do it. I was going to miss my friends; I felt like I’d never see them again. I “knew” (pre-judged) that the older kids wouldn’t like me at all, because I was younger then them. I never give people a chance unless they don’t give me a choice.
    It hurts me so much that my own mother doesn’t know me. It hurts me that I’ve hurt her. I didn’t tell her about all the things that went on in my relationship with Shelby. She just assumed it was a stupid, typical high school thing. I decided that she would flip out and she says she can’t say whether or not she would have. (I still think she would have, and I couldn’t really blame her for that, but I decided that I was strong enough to handle it. I’m glad I did.) So know I tell her the things I went through, at least on the surface level. I didn’t tell her about that time, outside of Mrs. Bingham’s classroom, when I was so depressed I stayed out there the entire time, shivering (though it wasn’t cold in the building), both hoping that someone would see me and make me talk about what I was feeling and hoping that nobody would ever know. That was my entire life for most of the time when I was dealing with Shelby. There were only a few times that I felt really happy with her. It was extremely harmful, and it probably shouldn’t have happened, and she broke my heart, but I still wouldn’t go back and do it differently because it was a learning experience for me.
    But that’s just the tip of the iceberg, so to speak. Rich said he doesn’t need to know all the details, but I can at least let them know how I’m feeling. True. It’s just so damn difficult. I hope Mom can eventually accept that, because I will tell them how I’m feeling. Or really, really make an effort to. But for a while, it will be impossible for me to tell the details. But even when I’m very sad, I don’t need to see some “professional”. I don’t want to let some stranger poke and prod at me. I only need the time and space to sort myself out, either alone or with the people I feel comfortable with. I want to make so many comparisons to characters from books I’ve read, but they won’t work because Mom and Rich won’t get them. It’d just be easier for me to articulate myself that way.
    The true crux of what spurred me to write this right now, though, is that talk I just had with Rich. While he was talking, I nodded and listened, and understood what he was saying. It is very unfair how I regard him. I never see him. Only, it’s not the way Mom thinks. It’s not because he bolsters our financial security, which is something I know Mom has had to worry about for all of my life. It’s because he makes her happy. As long as he was doing that, I could have cared less. She said he cared about us like his own children, but like everything else I hear, I can intellectualize it, but until I truly understand it, because something has hit me, then well, it’s not as potent. I could tell he cared. If he didn’t why would he bother, no? But the whole time he was talking, I was trying to hold back tears. It’s hard for me to cry, since it’s another emotional expression. (I was just about to say that I don’t really actively try to not cry, but that’s a boldfaced lie. I don’t just lie to you Mom, I lie to myself too sometimes.) But as soon as he got upstairs and I figured he couldn’t hear me, I shed a few. I knew there was something nagging at me.
    It’s Dad. It never bothered me that she referred to Rich as my father. In fact, I agreed, he’s been more of a father to me than Antonio Goicuria III. Don’t I say, “The only time I see him is when he cuts my hair.” I said, “I don’t hate that man, but I don’t love him either.” But when Rich said to me, “I understand that you don’t say things. I bottle stuff up too. I’m just working on saying what’s on my mind.”, I instantly thought “Don’t you dare understand me.” I never let Rich in before, and I’m sorry for it. I cried a little because I realized that, for a very long time, I haven’t had a father, and I dealt with it. Didn’t care, didn’t let it bother me. But here Rich is, filling that spot that was so long empty. And I never saw it before. Didn’t let myself see it. Thank you, Rich. One of these days, I’ll be strong enough to say it to your face, as you deserve.
    So no, things aren’t so good right now. But they’ll improve. I’ll be upright and honest (to a point), and they’ll start to let me go. I knew my fury last night was rash, but I still had it. It took me a lot not to cry last night, after that fight between Mom and I. I was shaking a little, but that rage dissipated. Besides, I only get angry when I know there’s a chance I could be a little wrong. Like Claire telling me that my mom felt guilty, that “mothers see sad shit in their children’s faces.” I still don’t regret what happened last Sunday, because it led to this, and because I needed to see Breanna and Alan. I think she should have let me choose, though I should have asked if Scooter could drive me. But there’s progress, and that’s the best thing to know right now. This has happened before though, and I’ve obviously slipped back into my old ways. I’m just going to have to make sure that doesn’t happen again. I’ll promise it to myself, because this sadness isn’t worth it.  
    But hey, even right now, because I got this out (even though it wasn’t the ideal way too), I feel fine, I feel like there’s been a tangible, positive change, and I’m optimistic about things. It feels good.
    






12/07/10--11:17: BSB (chan 1832890)

Oh, banana split basket!

Dos thou wish to see me undone,

split of heart and rent of soul?

Envisioning the unholy whole

Of the loathsome stockroom

to be a personal inferno:

resplendent with leaping brown

cardboard flames;

I daresay Dante had the wrong idea.




12/07/10--11:28: Holidays (chan 1832890)

What are the holidays?

A series of shams ungodly

Made by greedy, soulless, vapid

pricks and pawns?

Or is there something special in those lighted forms of metal

that always seem to turn up on peoples’ lawns?

I’ve seen a lot of things this year

A lot of highs and lows, now hear,

this evergreen charm is starting to bleed to white.

So if there’s one thing I’d love to see beneath a decked out Christmas tree

It’s a bit of truth, simple and clean

to shed some rhyme and reason

upon this blasted season

That has people rushing, hustling, bustling

a dizzying, endless stream

of this and that, and me, me, me

Explain, elucidate, make it clear

wrap it in bow, ribbon,

tag it if you must

address it to the world

Anything that to me will just

cause the layers of my mind to unfurl

and leave me wrapped, tender and mild,

And grant me the certainty of a child

That there is nothing more worthwhile

Than what I now see as fake cheer and smiles

Make it true, make it real,

Make me feel the spirit you feel

I’ll wish upon the star atop that tree

If I can just receive (for free or a fee?)

a knowledge that Christmas is better

than I’m currently unsure that it can be.




12/14/10--10:35: mollymisery: Samuel R. Smith InfirmaryStaten Island, New York... (chan 1832890)





mollymisery:

Samuel R. Smith Infirmary
Staten Island, New York  




12/28/10--14:52: I attended a wedding there, in a dream I had. (chan 1832890)





I attended a wedding there, in a dream I had.




04/11/11--22:00: Humphrey Bogart: Blueberry Connoisseur (chan 1832890)

“C’mon, Miguel. Hand over the berries, and we can all just go home.”

    It was a Mexican standoff. “You know what, Bogart? I don’t think so!” The mustachioed miscreant rolled the ripe blue spheres around in his palm. A trickle of blue juice ran down to the back of Raul’s hand and dropped slowly onto the floor. Humphrey Bogart looked back and forth between the dastard and his minion and his eyes widened as he swallowed in fear. Miguel Estévez was a dangerous smuggler, wanted in over 12 different countries for purloining of produce (a crime punishable by death in certain places). One small misstep and the pungent taste of the Cobalt Blueberries could be lost to the world forever.
    Humphrey clutched his twin Berettas even more tightly in his hands. Miguel wore an impassive face, but one glance into his eyes told a story of a man tainted by greed, living on the edge and prepared to do what he must to attain his heart’s desire. If the scum did not absolutely believe that Bogart would end his life if his finger so much as twitched, well, there would be three dead bodies on the ground, open mouths seeming to take a deep drink from a pool of crimson. As if he could read minds, Miguel cleared his throat and spoke. “Don’t be so sure you’ve got us pinned. Look to your right!”
    In his peripheral vision, he saw a red dot hovering over his heart. He grimaced and cursed internally. How he could he let himself get ambushed like this?  
    “That’s the ticket. So, Chumphrey, I think we’ll be taking this sweet little pile of cobalt gold and shoving off.” He gestured towards the temperature-controlled briefcase on the table in the center of the dimly lit room with his head as he drew a phone from his pocket and pressed a few buttons. “Pedro, if you would.” He then muttered into the phone in Spanish and hung up. The broad-shouldered Pedro lumbered over to the briefcase and lifted it casually, his gun trained on Humphrey’s forehead all the while. A bead of sweat trickled down the back of H.B.’s neck, from his perfectly even hairline to the starched collar of his Oxford button-down shirt. Not only was it so abominably hot, but this ranked in the top half of the five most nerve wracking messes he’d ever gotten into.
    Just as he was contemplating how to extricate himself and the blueberries, he heard the chopping sound of a helicopter flying near to the ground. “That must be my ride.” Raul said, grinning. “Better luck next time, Humphrey-boy.” His flunky and himself walked backward out of the cabin slowly, making sure that the blueberry connoisseur didn’t try to pull anything. Miguel stepped into the cabin and strapped himself in. Pedro handed him the briefase behind his back, and heaved himself onto the helicopter as it sped off. As soon as it was out of sight, the red bead disappeared from Humphrey, and he was left alone.
    Beep beep beep. Beep beep beep. He reached into his left breast pocket and fished out his cell phone. “What?” he said irritably. “I know that must have been tough on you, letting him go like that after you’ve been tailing him for so long. You were super close, too. How do you feel right now? Gosh, probably pretty blue. More blue than those berries you let slip out—”
    “The point, please, Alice.” Humphrey bellowed.
    “The point is not to let it get to you. We’ll get him. But right now, what I need from you, Mr. Bogart, is to return to base. Mr. Schwartz will want to hear all about what happened from you. Besides, there’s been a call for a case that only a world-class connoisseur can solve…”

BUM BUM BUM. BUM BUM BUM. BUUUUUUUUUUUUUM.

…To be continued.




04/27/11--17:55: 21st Century Love (chan 1832890)

Welcome to my 21st century love
So let’s start the romance
Even if we can’t hold hands
I’ll give you a poke, a wink, a nudge

We met in the everpresent garden of earthly delights
I’ll recreate Paris with the LED lights
We’re already in the bedroom,
Just shut your eyes, and the shutter
On your webcam.

We’ve got everything we need right here
(I’m trapped by my virginal fear)
We don’t have to go anywhere
(I’m too shy to do a thing but stare)

‘cause baby with my webcam
I can
Make all of your dreams come true tonight
I can’t make all of your dreams come true tonight.




06/14/11--10:08: Bullshit (chan 1832890)

Honey, now that you’ve got me,
Let me let you know that not a single one
Of my sixty seconds of coitus are sloppy
I won’t hit a girl or call her bitch
Call me Mahatma Gandhi
Pleasuring the opposite sex is my hobby
I’ll leave you hobbling in the hotel lobby
And no, that picture doesn’t depict the full length of my genitalia—
They had to crop me
Pun intended, you could call me cocky
I’m a tall, dark and handsome nerd:
Yes, my disc is floppy.
I’m so sexy it’s a crime
And the long arm of the law doesn’t have a chance to stop me
I can go until the umpteenth round as if my name was Rocky
Added to the fact that my Bullwinkle is stocky
Jocks used to be hatin’ cause they couldn’t block me
Cheerleaders and librarians scream “Ay, Papi!”
If my shirt had a collar, it’d be saying “Pop me.”
I’m fortunate in my daily life;
All the time I’m getting lucky
All in all you could say that I push the ladies’ hotkeys.
And I’m super cool, but I’m black, so I don’t play hockey
And I don’t ice ski, I just eat ice cream
It seems to me it’s plain to see I’m the world’s wet night dream.
And when I feel like it, I just do it like Nike.
My pseudonym is Mellow Yellow (quite rightly)
But this was all just blustering braggadocio
So please don’t cite me.




06/19/11--18:52: I love these lyrics (chan 1832890)

“You come beating like moth’s wings/spastic and violently/whipping me into a storm/shaking me down to the core/but you run away from me/and you’ve left me shimmering/like diamond wedding rings/spinning dizzily down on the floor/”

-Passion Pit “Moth’s Wings”

“You’re hiding from yourself/yes you are, yes you are/like golden rays of sun/in the clouds/I will make you see/haven’t you got it, haven’t you got it yet/just lay down for a while next to me/didn’t mean to make you panic/didn’t mean to put you off/baby it’s the way that you’ve got me/I listen to my heart and it takes you high/and you ask me how/can I show you how/I need your love now, now, now/”

-Royksopp “You Don’t Have A Clue”

“There’s nothing you can do for them/they are the force between/when the sunlight is arising/there’s nothing you can say to her/I am without a heart/and the space has been broken/it’s broken/our love/broken/”

-Gorillaz “Broken”

“That night I smoked a joint/with my best friend/we found ourselves in bed/when I woke up he was gone/he was a diplomat’s son/it was ‘81/he was a diplomat’s son/it was ‘81/looking out at the ice cold water all around me/I can’t feel any traces of that other place/in the dark when the wind comes racing off the river/there’s a car all black with diplomatic plates/”

-Vampire Weekend “Diplomat’s Son

“Say it/but I don’t want to play the part/and I don’t want a taste of victory/no I don’t want to read your thoughts anymore/My God/’cause today my heart swings/yeah today my heart swings/”

-Interpol “Heinrich Maneuver”

“The people I’ve met and the places I’ve been/are all who make me the man I so proudly am/but I wanna know one thing/when did I become a ghost/mostly confused about the world I live in/you think that I’m lonely, well, I probably am/one thing that still gets me/When did I become a ghost/I hope they understand that I really understand that they don’t understand/”

-Kid Cudi “Ghost!”

“You don’t move slow/taking steps in my directions/The sound resounds, echo/does it lessen your affection/no/you say I’m foolish/for pushing this aside/but burn down our home/I won’t leave alive/”

-The XX “Crystalised”

“and i believe in gentle harmony/well how i loathe all this obscenity/is this the way my life has got to be/have i a single opportunity/look at me oh look at me is this the way i’ll always be/oh no, oh no/now i pray that somebody will quickly come and kidnap me/oh no, oh no/everyday i lie awake and pray to god today’s the day/oh no, oh no/here i am oh here i am oh when will someone understand/oh no, oh no/”

-Passion Pit “The Reeling”

“told me you love me/that i’d never die alone/hand over your heart let’s go home/everyone noticed/everyone has seen the signs/i’ve always been known to cross lines/i never ever cried when i was feeling down/i’ve always been scared of the sound/jesus don’t love me/no one ever carried my load/i’m too young to feel this old/”

-Kings of Leon “Cold Desert”

“Forever is a long long time/when you’ve lost your way/trying to follow your ideal/oh sorry but your so called life/it is such a waste/wear your real eyes/no you don’t realize/what you say yes to/but you say yes too/”

-Phoenix “Lasso”

“So sentimental/Not sentimental, no!/Romantic, not discussing it/Darling I’m down and lonely/When we’re the fortunate only/I’ve been looking for something else/Duel it, duel it, duel it, juggle it, duel it, duel it/Go slowly, discouraged/Distant from other interests/On your favorite we can end it/This love’s for gentlemen only/That’s with the fortunate only/No I gotta be someone else/These days it comes it comes it comes it comes it comes and goes/”

-Phoenix “Lisztomania”

“I had a feeling once/That you and I/Could tell each other everything/For two months/But even with an oath/With truth on our side/When you turn away from me/It’s not right/I think ur a contra/”

-Vampire Weekend “Contra”




06/24/11--07:35: oliphillips: Telephone Disassembly by Todd McLellan I always... (chan 1832890)





oliphillips:

Telephone Disassembly

by Todd McLellan

I always got this frustrated with rotary phones as well.




10/19/11--10:49: solsetur: Nicolas Kennedy Sitton (chan 1832890)





solsetur:

Nicolas Kennedy Sitton




11/29/11--19:06: herpderpkevin: howtobecoolfordummies: herpderpkevin: MISSING: ... (chan 1832890)





herpderpkevin:

howtobecoolfordummies:

herpderpkevin:

MISSING:

ANGELA LANHAM

17 YEARS OLD

Last seen at her work, TJ’s Pizza in Franklin, New Jersey, 07416, on November 25th, 2011.

If ANYBODY has ANY information, please contact Cindy Patten-Lanham at 201-874-3424 or Bill Lanham at 201-787-0759.

Please PLEASE reblog this and get the word out as much as possible. She is one of my closest friends. I beg of you, have a heart.

reblogging this again, because I’m terrified.

Please help spread the word.

One last time before I try to go to bed. Please reblog. Angela, I love you so much. Please be safe. Please.