And so the final lie was told and the telephones were silent. Let my third age begin.

Dare on, dare on.

I've had it for a while, but I can't stress how GREAT Maxïmo Park's Quicken The Heart is.

I ask and I feel their hands come to rest on my shoulders. Bandages from one, stone from the other. There are times when they must place those hands under my arms and keep me up when my body grows heavy and my lids grow weak, but they never say anything of that to anyone. So much is between us, so much I would never dare to say to another person ( Read more... )

It's coming, a year since the break. A year since I changed yet again. A year's penance, paying for things I did not do and yet knew that no one else would ever take responsibility for ( Read more... )

I saw Johann Johannsson perform last night. A complete and total victory.

I don't walk anymore, my toes barely graze the ground as I float on.

I pictured the Golem and Arivault pulling bodies out of destroyed houses and suddenly pieces of my story that had never been there before stumbled into the light and declared themselves. Perhaps when I see Johann Johannsson on Friday, I will be able to step into the light myself for a little while.

All is well, and here's to hoping.

And that's what love is: a way to forgetfulness. Solace, quiet, cool on the skin. Saying we will put that old "her" to bed because maybe some new "her" might have her eye on the pillow next to your own.

Here's to forgetting.