drowning in nostalgia right now, listening to relient k. who am I hates who I've been; escape, bury the hatchet are like my old dusty favorites, and they play a long line of lovely into my ears. its like a well-oiled music box I haven't opened in awhile! although I am never the type to keep music boxes (I ignore or spoil them), I'm just channelling ( Read more... )

lights will guide you home
& ignite your bones
- coldplay, fix you

im looking at you silently, in that spotlight. its so bright it burns gold at your borders, and i can almost smell the singe and smoke. it would be gold too, clouded and powdery - like if sawdust and glitter made a baby and called it sam --

 what have I learnt about life ( Read more... )

i don't feel emo all the time, but somehow, I think having a change of country has given me an increased amount of misery
not in depth but in length. in an insidious, undercurrent type of way.
I find myself constantly comparing, and feeling down, not good enough, like a square peg, like whatever used to hold me up on the clothes hook of 'identity' ( Read more... )

the military girl in my head

wears mongolian armour (the semi-full works), has her hair in a single ratty pigtail
looks unbearably chunky, one arm bulked up unbelievably and the other riddled with atrophy. wasting away, i think ill give that left side 3 fingers. 
has a roman cape. tatty with holes & junk, and because my head is into the supernatural ( Read more... )

 sitting here with a full stomach and generally, feeling quite at peace with myself
which I haven't had alot of lately.

song of the moment! breakeven - the script

and a cool tumblr: stop hating your body
which every girl (and boy) should look at, because I think everyone has a little bit (or a lot) of an issue with their bodies sometimes
and we need ( Read more... )

maybe we're all born with vices, a (un)prized set of our own - sitting pretty, in a glass paneled vanity in a little dank room in the basements of our hearts. like the silver spoons your grandmother only ever takes out once a year, except they move

they inhale and bloat up the spaces in our moments (they call this worry). they go scritch scratch ( Read more... )

 God, help me be brave
and thank you
for being the love of my life.

one great thing about buying designer tea lattes
it taught me that peppermint tea + sugar = candy canes exploding in your mouth

being a freshman is like what it is
literally, fresh
like raw meat waiting to be licked by the flame
that glowers erratically in its bed of charcoal
tossing, turning
restless

to feel yourself slathered with 
the hickory smoke of sight, sound, people
and hoping you can tune it down to white noise by the time the year is through

thank goodness your dreams ( Read more... )