We will hang our dirty uniforms from our antenna like pirate flags.

How happy is the blameless vestal's lot!
The world forgetting, by the world forgot.

Yellow is the colour of my true love's crossbow.
Yellow is the colour of the sun.

Black is the colour of a strangled rainbow.
That's the colour of my love.

Black is the colour of my true love's arrows.
That's the colour of human blood.

Last night I met Penny Lane.

Brosandi ( Read more... )

Is it an enflamed self-indulgent ego or an incredible insecurity that makes one think that every word of every sentence written by someone holds a double meaning directly attributed to themselves?

Either way, I find it interesting.

Last night I broke up with Nicci. Which is a shame. But when you have to do something, you just know ( Read more... )

Direct my stare to the wall from the hospital bed ( Read more... )

'Grace' is a good word, and sweetheart, I have none ( Read more... )

Glastonbury, yeah?

Culture no longer needs translating, and it’s no fun to keep pretending that it does. We believe that steps should be taken to express this new situation. We deplore a system that tends to elevate a few persons as skilled and degrade many. Yet so fickle is the human animal, we find ourselves deriving an unwanted pleasure from signs of better times ( Read more... )