life is weird.. namely goodwills, stomach aches, old shoes and freaks. michel gondry's la lettre is so small, beautiful, and makes complete sense. it has been a year since i found la planète sauvage.. maybe tomorrow i will stop by cinefile and find something else by rené laloux, i hope. it's weird because there's paint peeling from the inside of ( Read more... )

i could never bring myself to dying my hair. i am lucky in so many ways and don't even know it. there's some new movie out about this guy who gets idealistic in college and goes to alaska and lives in an abandoned bus and dies. i hope i never get idealistic in college ( Read more... )

it's just going to be me and my mom this weekend. my dad is seeing his college friends for a reunion in ohio. with the first official day of fall tomorrow, it already feels autumn's setting in. there's a wetness in the air. since my sister started learning german, i've been wanting to know it too. not just make stupid status' on ichat, but ( Read more... )

the sun was raw and heavy. and when i looked up, i thought of everyone who sliced their wrists open. norma desmond. who put her head in the oven? sylvia plath. who hung himself after weeks of debate? ian curtis. whose lung collapsed from too much coke? dennis brown. and there were many who didn't make national headlines, and many who thought it was ( Read more... )

i can count the ( Read more... )

if tallahassee
never lives up to
its name, its
okay.. at least when
the sun is out there
are lights where the
sky used to be.. the
ground, without a shadow
of a doubt, is always
around.. as are the
small arms i remember..
being tinier than my
memory knows.. places
i know not to go by
myself.. in an empty
warehouse..

"i speak in smoke signals"

( Read more... )

i met a heterochromic guy last night.. i want to marry him ( Read more... )

there we were, oh my brothers, ready for a tasteful night of the old ultra-violence.