(no subject)
another 2008 recap thing;
except this time it's the last(ish) sentence(ish) from the last post of every month,
and the last picture i posted on flickr that month.
january: but i just want to read books and draw pictures and drink chai tea and chocolate milk and have a nice small house and decorate it pretty, and, i don't know, i want to live in appalachia.
february: i don't want to start a new life, but i don't want to stay here. i don't want to be alone. i don't want people to be as important to me as they are. i want to read good books in interesting places, i want to sit on a big rock by a small river in a big forest and read children's stories, i don't want to think about the real world. i want my hair to be long and i want to love my family.
march: the small town and those silver spaceship trailers. johnny depp and that girl, well it reminds me a lot of something. i hope that something is going somewhere real nice.
april: i'll pretend to want a simple life because i don't know what else to want anymore. i wish you could make a career out of pretty picture books and making themed mix cds, abandoned buildings and knowing all the best places to go when it's warm out and you're drinking strawberry wine, late saturday nights. getting crushes on strangers and relating to nobody. picking out the typefaces on billboards and wearing appropriately symbolic bird charm necklaces. i don't think i was ever supposed to get any older than age seventeen.
may: one day i promise i will become a girl of conviction.
june: there was a big flood here and we went swimming in the flood water, which is a bad idea because there are lots of bacteria, but it was fun and there was a playground half underwater.
july: i don't know who i love anymore and i wish i knew who loved me, i want someone to say, "give me your eyes, i need sunshine," i want someone to say, "i'd take you where nobody knows you, and nobody gives a damn either way."
august: i don't know what it is i ever loved, or what it is i never did, but i know i define myself in places, and places i want to be. i know the ones i've loved, the ones i never did, and i know it's time to move on. i've left before, but this time it's different, it's bigger than ever before, i know i'm not coming back. it's time to get going, get old. i leave in the morning.
september: i don't know, i still think about it from time to time, but it doesn't matter, because i think i've finally found that thing i've been holding my breath going through tunnels and wishing for. i think you know what i'm talking about.
october: waiting for the train and cold city nights, the square lights of office buildings outside the window going by. walking, i don't know, i'd forget you if i could and i'm sure damn trying. this city belongs to me and not to you. there's a blue-eyed boy who asks, "there is someone who you mean the whole world to, how does that feel?" there's a homeless man in the subway station who plays a guitar to a synthesizer and sings, "silver and gold, diamonds and platinum, wealth untold will pass away."
november: i am in a perpetual state of unraveling and i should stop destroying myself because of it.
december: i'm seeing bon iver and the tallest man on earth tonight. I AM SO FUCKING EXCITED.
actual update soon. perhaps immediately following this one.
except this time it's the last(ish) sentence(ish) from the last post of every month,
and the last picture i posted on flickr that month.
january: but i just want to read books and draw pictures and drink chai tea and chocolate milk and have a nice small house and decorate it pretty, and, i don't know, i want to live in appalachia.
february: i don't want to start a new life, but i don't want to stay here. i don't want to be alone. i don't want people to be as important to me as they are. i want to read good books in interesting places, i want to sit on a big rock by a small river in a big forest and read children's stories, i don't want to think about the real world. i want my hair to be long and i want to love my family.
march: the small town and those silver spaceship trailers. johnny depp and that girl, well it reminds me a lot of something. i hope that something is going somewhere real nice.
april: i'll pretend to want a simple life because i don't know what else to want anymore. i wish you could make a career out of pretty picture books and making themed mix cds, abandoned buildings and knowing all the best places to go when it's warm out and you're drinking strawberry wine, late saturday nights. getting crushes on strangers and relating to nobody. picking out the typefaces on billboards and wearing appropriately symbolic bird charm necklaces. i don't think i was ever supposed to get any older than age seventeen.
may: one day i promise i will become a girl of conviction.
june: there was a big flood here and we went swimming in the flood water, which is a bad idea because there are lots of bacteria, but it was fun and there was a playground half underwater.
july: i don't know who i love anymore and i wish i knew who loved me, i want someone to say, "give me your eyes, i need sunshine," i want someone to say, "i'd take you where nobody knows you, and nobody gives a damn either way."
august: i don't know what it is i ever loved, or what it is i never did, but i know i define myself in places, and places i want to be. i know the ones i've loved, the ones i never did, and i know it's time to move on. i've left before, but this time it's different, it's bigger than ever before, i know i'm not coming back. it's time to get going, get old. i leave in the morning.
september: i don't know, i still think about it from time to time, but it doesn't matter, because i think i've finally found that thing i've been holding my breath going through tunnels and wishing for. i think you know what i'm talking about.
october: waiting for the train and cold city nights, the square lights of office buildings outside the window going by. walking, i don't know, i'd forget you if i could and i'm sure damn trying. this city belongs to me and not to you. there's a blue-eyed boy who asks, "there is someone who you mean the whole world to, how does that feel?" there's a homeless man in the subway station who plays a guitar to a synthesizer and sings, "silver and gold, diamonds and platinum, wealth untold will pass away."
november: i am in a perpetual state of unraveling and i should stop destroying myself because of it.
december: i'm seeing bon iver and the tallest man on earth tonight. I AM SO FUCKING EXCITED.
actual update soon. perhaps immediately following this one.