May 2012
111 posts
gelosoundsgood asked: I just want to say that you write beautifully, mademoiselle. :)
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jacksrememberies replied to your post: Book One: Fight Club, Chuck Palahniuk. I said I…
you should read palahniuk’s other stuff too. he never disappoints. EVER.
Yeah I’ve been wanting to read Choke for a while too, just never got round to it! I guess that is on the list for summer reading :D
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Anonymous asked: A very, very good way. And no, i'm not
Anonymous asked: I mean your face is nice but your words make me quiver
Anonymous asked: Then stop posting your face. Attention whore.
Anonymous asked: Holy shit, you're insanely beautiful.
Anonymous asked: Post your avatar pic?
Anonymous asked: What is a writer if not a cogent liar?
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Irregular Girl Next Door.
she was that girl, the one whose name loitered on sweating tongues, as her smile, alluring in its mere innocence left their knees heaving
her face, as if constructed from dear gems, twinkled from the capture of ...
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Poets Can Be Treacherous Didn't You Know?
I am the trickster, a villain of the dreamlike, I circle seething ashes of a thousand loyal deaths their screams bleed in the ambience, but there is more there is temptation and fury just lingering here.
you seek me out offering unquestioning...
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"Candy Man, Candy Man, Candy Man"
once, twice, thrice, I called him, staring into the potholes my brown eyes imitated my trepidation; as I all but breathed his name
he is elusive like the smog that saturates the empty pathways of cobbled streets, he emerges from steam grates, only to spread, intangible like cold vapour
I believe I had met my Candyman tonight and as his toothsome kisses, left my lips parched, I began to search for...
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You're Sexy When You're Mad.
the air is rigid, unyielding just as he is stubborn our dispute has terminated yet the tension remains taut his eyes fail to acknowledge me, but I am aware of their scorn quivering lips slide easily into a destructive snarl, even the sound of him clearing his throat is condescending. the last words uttered resonate in the awkward silence, as we all but twiddle our thumbs -...
a writer's tale.
thedustdancestoo:
i got lost in the suffocating white, the deep expanse of empty pieces of paper; leaving drops of ink behind so i might someday find a way out.
Swoon. I want to marry his mind.
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the writer's address
avant-que-joublie:
a street sandwiched somewhere between the place where dreams are made and the pit where they are forgotten,
a little space carved out of the mountain of darkness,
a home for those who wander and a place for those who seek a great perhaps
completely unexpected, but I love it nonetheless! I love this way this has been written, it’s beautiful xx
Anonymous asked: wow girl, you're super pretty
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Okay I should really start writing and stop...
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Up early. Off to this Caribbean festival hosted by Levi Roots..
It’s such a beautiful day!!
Hope you all have a good one!
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“Writers are a little below clowns and a little above trained seals.”
– John Steinbeck.
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So The Avengers was pretty epic.
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I wanna know everything about you. I want you to be mine.
Anonymous asked: You said it sounds familiar, sounds familiar to what?
Anonymous asked: Me and someone buried something once, wasn't worth much but we wanted to see if it'd still be there in months to come. Never really went back to check as we went our separate ways, but one day i might go back and see if it's still there, and message them saying "remember that worthless tat we buried like 5 years ago, well it was still there haha". Priceless :)
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Recuperation.
Hazy moon, casting shadows over Sleeping houses, coupled with Lazy roofs in downtown suburbs- Barbed wire shimmer in the Incandescence, roses and orchids Yawn in their flowerbeds, as rain washed Pavements open to refreshed drive thru’s, the Drizzle and slight hum of the first to rise, open Fire to the dense air, as the cockerel crows At the sign of daybreak- in this mad World one can...
Anonymous asked: You're really pretty! :D
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summertime.
there is one definitive attribute of summer that I have always remembered
the moment, where my lips...
Anonymous asked: Nice phone, what's the number to it :p haha
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You are sand. the tighter I hold you the more you slip through my fingers.
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XXIX.
Dinner parties, raggedy bow ties and Corsets, crushed heels and missing teeth Tonight, I journeyed to reconciliation
Reluctant gatherings, and ones where we were unaware My run-ins with Death were much too suspect –
Until tonight, I dressed as though it were my last If nothing else, I would be that beautiful corpse
Eternally stained with juxtaposed feelings Of loathing and love, I would ...
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Pen Pals.
The letter was thrice folded, silently Casting adrift perfumed pages scripted with Adroit calligraphy, a scrawled postal Address shaped the sentiment, while self Adhesive envelopes dried by the rear window - Crooked stamps and more postal dates, airmail Delivered you to me from across the waters Your smile has not yet graced my heart, the Decibels of your laugh in my ears, yet I Feel as...
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I'm beginning to think I have a compulsive need to...
the-fiercest-fables:
Sometimes I feel the urge to delete everything from my blog because it’s all shit and amounts to nothing.
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So I have decided that from today, I am going to...
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the fifth.
sundew teardrops formulate in the bud, the pit of revival sticky, sweet as it drips audaciously, attracting the hopeless to their descent
there I was, remained closeted in blankets of pollen in the very quintessence of the first day of Spring the taster of fresh cut grass and incessant buzzing
yet there is more to this portrait smoked stems...
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sometimes, hallucinations can be real.
I used to love the stars, the hidden arrogance they possessed as they came predictably every night to flicker discretely like vehicle headlights through the fog
the night used to be my friend the darkness used to suit me until shadows became just another door for my repressed angst
your face is one that I cannot leave behind completely shrouded in glee fairy lights were held prisoner in your left...
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calculated assassinations.
tonight I succumbed to a most dangerous nature left alone to ponder the musings of nightfall I committed the irretrievable
it may be safe to say that I slaughtered the one object that truly loved me
tonight, I sent my muse to...
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closure.
at the apex of difficulty the mind wanders, hoping to seek out ways in which to terminate the predicament the equanimity of this zephyr is soothing but once these troubles are taken into foreign palms my behaviour becomes circumstantial pride to allow a stranger make sense...
Anonymous asked: Well for whatever reason he is not in your life anymore, let me be the first of many to tell you that he is a damn fool. Because you are rather amazing.