"Love out of lust, dance while you can.
Rather live out a lie than live wondering 
how the fire feels while burning. 
For life is like a flame, and the ashes for wasting.
So honey, don't be afraid, to dance while we're waiting.

We will live longer than I will, we will be better than I was.
We can cross rivers without wind, we can do better than I can.
So dance while you can...dance cos' you must."
- l k y y e l i 

burgulation.

Being a California gal & all, I definitely love me some In-N-Out. Happily, I came across an article that by far has the best take on the secret menu of thou adoring burger spot. Next visit, I'm definitely ordering a Grilled cheese. You read it right, Grilled cheese! (For the record, I'm an ultimate grilled cheese junkie). Oh, and well done animal style fries, and a Neapolitan Shake. NOM NOM NOM NOM NOM NOM NOM, NOM NOM. 

http://aht.seriouseats.com/archives/2011/03/the-in-n-out-survival-guide-we-ate-every-single-item-on-the-secret-menu.html

Citation du jour:

Interviewer: Any advice to young writers?

Pete Doherty: "Write! Just write."

 

Life is so strange ,

overwhelming, complex, simple and beautiful.

Time, days, years, heart beats, breaths...
one moment they're here,
next thing they're something of the past.
Oh, the past! inevitable is the past.
Five minutes ago has become ancient, extinct, gone!

Even if I'm not guaranteed a future,
at least I've lived long enough to have stories of the past.

I have dreams, you have dreams.
Often times involuntarily,
we are revolved with hopes and dreams.

Tell me please, what is it to have hope?
and what use is it to dream?

And love! Love, love, love...

half the world twirls from the sense of love,

the other half twirls for the sense of love.

I cannot see it, and even when I cannot feel it,

I know it's there, I'm a spinning fool for love!

Oh, and these exclamation marks !

they shout out the whispers
I may never be able to express.
I ask you...ask me what I want.

I want to sit out under a mango tree
sometime around midnight
and sing sweet songs to the moon and the stars.

I want to show them gratitude
with my lungs and a harmonica.

I want to share myself with the world,
and open up,

just open up.

Pour me out like your serve of morning coffee,
I'll wake you up,
I'll wake you up.

I want to be taken in... by a stranger, by a lover.

I want to hold you and console you,

like your mother or your brother.

Don't try making sense of me, of my scattered vowels,

and just listen. Please, just listen.

Life is strange, overwhelming, complex, simple,
and beautiful... if that's what you let it be.

It's cinq minutes past onze and I am here, Sitting Indian-style on my vintage floral sheeted bed. I'd really much rather be somewhere, anywhere in this small-grand world, preferably laying down in a field of endless tall grass (song I'm momentarily listening to). It's a rainy Sunday night, and I just love it. 


I adore rainy days, and I love rainy nights. 
The thought of it just blows my mind--it's amazing, how drop after drop of heavenly water gradually makes its way from a dimensionless part of the sky unto our fleshed finger-tip reach. It's just so magical, and breath-taking.

The sound of rain, the smell of rain, the feel of rain.

Have you ever had a sort of melodramatic film-like moment? You know, the one where you stand in the middle of your front yard at midnight, face up to the moon-lit sky--
the palm of your hands stretched out as if reaching for the stars, and you just stand there for a while, with no worries and no thoughts.

Your mind is clear, and there is nothing too important or too necessary or too anything that could possibly interfere with the moment you're about to face.

The world gradually stops rotating, the ground beneath you becomes still, and there is no movement except for the down pouring rain and the rush of blood pulsing through your veins. It's in that moment--in that rare, precious, and fleeting moment, 
that you suddenly realize how alive you are.

The indescribable sensation of the rain sways you in and takes you over. You open your mouth to taste a few raindrops with the tip of your tongue, and it's a taste so unfamiliar, so rich, so exquisitely extraordinary.  This taste inspires you, and like a child at recess you start skipping around. Suddenly now, you find yourself dancing. And out of nowhere, you begin to cry. While crying, you begin to sing. After singing, you begin to laugh. A delirious moment in the rain. A delirious moment that you'll carry with you for the rest of your remaining days. Many things you'll forget, 
but never the night that you spent in company of the rain.

Many people dance in the rain, cry in the rain, sing their melancholy hearts out in the rain. Some kiss their most loved set of lips in the rain. Many people never will.

In personal empathy, I'm aware I may never get a trip to Barcelona, New York City, or Ukraine. Possibly, I'll never go to half the places I'd like to, or do many things I desire. Even with that said, I know that in the day of my last perspire, I'll renounce just as satisfied knowing that my body, mind, and soul had the opportunity to experience the true living beauty of the rain.

D, I , Y .

CLICK HERE, M'DEAR .

"You could stay a while longer
we could stay up and talk about last summer.

We could go down to the water
watch the sunset going under.

It's not that I'm a stranger to lonely moments,
I've had my share of those.

Please don't go,
Please don't leave me alone,
A mirrors so much harder to hold.

I could try and point the finger but the glass points in my direction.

Sure, you got your sharp edges
but my wounds are from my own reflection.

You've got nothing I could ever hold against you,
I got fatal flaws to call my own.

Please don't go, Please don't leave me alone.
A mirror's so much harder to hold.

I met a man who was looking for perfection

said he never met a girl who's good enough.

His eyes are getting old like they'd love to love again.
Such a lonely man,
Such a lonely man.

I see him in my reflection,
taking steps towards me these days.
So I hold you that much closer
and pray we don't throw this away.

It's not that I'm a man who couldn't love you,
I know what these arms are for.

Please don't go,
Please don't leave me alone,
A mirror is harder to hold.
Please don't leave me cold,
A mirror is harder to hold ."

- JON FOREMAN.

La Citation du jour :

"My moods are inversely related
 to the clarity of the sky."

- Glenn Gould.

I've literally just discovered darling Jaime Woon's tunes
And already he's blown me away. 
His voice is so rich and soulful, his lyrics are so cleverly sincere, 
and he is undoubtedly handsome and charming.
 New musician crush? I think so. 

Home, sweet home.

One day, I will have a place to call my own. and this place of mine, I've promised myself, will be a resembling replica of this. With the exception of added artistry, vinyl records, and 19th century furniture. Can't get anymore dreamier than that. ♥

“When you’re creating your own shit, man, even the sky ain’t the limit.”

- Miles Davis

 

I love

it when people smile. I think it's one of the most beautiful gestures a mouth can make. No matter how chipped a tooth may be, even if there's a gap the size of Texas exposed, even if one doesn't have teeth at all, all smiles are equally beautiful when they genuinely manifesto the inner smile we feel inside.

 

PRESS PLAY > >

"Do you wanna be alone? Do you wanna be alone?
And are you cool?
Symmetrical, Hypocritical, Analytical, So critical,
Nothing's perfect --
I'm hoping I'll do."

mis-takes.

I seen a shooting start tonight. Well, at least I think I did.

I hope I did. I'm believing in satisfiable selfishness that I did.

It was gorgeous. Perfect timing too. Right when I was pulling up into my drive way: SWOOSSHH across the night at an implausible speed it elapsed. I could have missed it by a sneeze (my eyes have this natural reaction of squinting every time I sneeze). More surprisingly than actually witnessing though, was my automated response. I usually tend to over-think everything; even when it comes to the simplest of things such as making a wish. However, I've come to the conclusion that there will be moments in life in which your heart will respond before any other pulsing organ within you. Tonight, I wished with my heart and as silly as I personally think the whole concept of wishing may be, I'm engraving the date of three-eleven-eleven in mon coeur. Time tells all, and deep down under some crimsoned blue sea, there is a fish that believes that wishes really can come true. (Where did the whole fish analogy come from you ask? I really have no idea.) Anyhow; Goodnight, good morning, good etc. to whom ever happens to be reading this, whenever you happen to be reading this, if anyone happens to be reading this? and P.S: in case this hasn't been told to you today, you are beautiful. and as cliché as this may sound: if you're going through something patchy and discouraging, know  that every little thing is gonna be alright (yes, Bob Marley reference.)
Stay Golden, toots. ♥
  

PRESS PLAY.

"Be the ocean where I unravel.

Be my only, be the water when I'm wading.

You're my river running high, run deep run wild.

I, I follow, I follow you deep sea baby,
I follow you.

I, I follow, I follow you, dark boom honey,

I follow you."

What use is it to want?

I want to go to exciting places.
Become familiar with unknown faces.
I want to smell the ambient of a whole new life.
I want to venture, I want to explore, I want inspiration,
I want something more than unmeasurable deprivation.
I want to see the sunrise in Quebec.
I want to feel the sunset in Ha Giang.
I want to hear foreign voices,
I want an unforgettable conversation with a stranger.
I want to dance barefoot in a forest,
run around incognito through a desert.
I want to plant Grandiflora's in a park,
kiss a lover conspicuously in the dark.
I want to build novelty with my hands,
and offer refuge in my heart.
Oh, such self-proclaimed desire!
Oh, such torrent dismay!
yet I want, I want, I want.

10:50 PM

Where has my head gone?
What use have my limbs?
I explode like a firework, dare you take me in?
I am a quitter, a fighter.
I am intellectually inane.
I'm in a loss for words, these colors make it worse.
Light purple, bright yellow..
What use has my voice?
Where is the fury?
Where is the flame?
What use has my face, if I have no name?
Answer me, won't you.
Answer me true.
Answer me tomorrow,
right now it's no use.
These thoughts are merely tangible,
much less to my pursuit.

Au natural.

Secret: I think the human body is one of the most beautiful existing things in life.

I am fascinated by hands. Hands are just so mystical. You can caress the love of your life, write words of wisdom, play your emotions away on an instrument, paint an extravagant painting, plant a rose bush in your garden...all with the use of your hands. Flesh...the human flesh is wondrous, and arousing. Amazing how our cheeks turn pink when our hearts race for another boy or girl. And how our skin turns warm when we lay in consoling arms. It just blows my mind... how our fragile, timid, rare, and fleeting bodies can expose tangible emotions within us...