"Reflection tells me that blue further may represent the capacity to embrace one's pain instead of taking the more common path of denial. I agree with most of aventurine's analysis. In at least Western culture, depression is seen as a lack of resolve rather than an illness. The common belief is that the clinically depressed are simply character flawed. Others tend to see a refusal to "look at the bright side" or to effectively practice enough "positive thinking." Most hurtful of all, they will often perceive nonexistent attention seeking motives. Telling that to a depressed person is like saying, "You're making it all up!" In his social network, Drake probably needed more people who could accept him rather than the majority who would attempt to "fix" him. He was clearly perfect as he was--nothing needed any rework. He likely sought bonds with those who, like himself, had the courage to see the blue without any blinders. That is sadly rare in our culture and that truth seemed to sadden Drake as he sought those few who were unafraid to face the blue head on. Social phobia often spirals into an excruciating trap of silent suffering. It is almost as much a societal illness as it is a psychological one. Isolating is very often potently reinforced. Drake's depression may have been fallout from social anxiety. I believe it probably was, but I of course can't know for sure. Regardless, what I will term his "lone blue" was clearly stifling and pervasively life-limiting. He must have found quiet peace through his art, but it wasn't enough. His alienation was only furthered in never being properly appreciated or acknowledged while he was alive. Though he would have never stated it, I'd guess that he knew the magnitude of his gift. These lyrics deeply resonate with me because my life has been limited by the same kinds of mental illness (why in the world are we afraid to say it?). Without any doubt, I could never express my feelings and yearnings as splendidly as Drake has, but I wholly identify. It is some consolation that the world is getting value from his work, but how tragic it is that it did not come in time to have possibly prevented the loss of his life--and such a loss it was. I encourage everyone here to experience Drake's complete recorded works. With (maybe) a couple of exceptions,
 I find every one of his songs nothing less than awe inspiring."



A Sonnet of Invented Memories

1.

I told you that I was a roadway of potholes, not safe to cross. You said nothing, showed up in my driveway wearing roller-skates.

2.

The first time I asked you on a date, after you hung up, I held the air between our phones against my ear and whispered, “You will fall in love with me. Then, just months later, you will fall out. I will pretend the entire time that I don’t know it’s coming.”

3.

Once, I got naked and danced around your bedroom, awkward and safe. You did the same. We held each other without hesitation and flailed lovely. This was vulnerability foreplay.

4.

The last eight times I told you I loved you, they sounded like apologies.

5.

You recorded me a CD of you repeating, “You are beautiful.” I listened to it until I no longer thought in my own voice.

6.

Into the half-empty phone line, I whispered, “We will wake up believing the worst in each other. We will spit shrapnel at each other’s hearts. The bruises will lodge somewhere we don’t know how to look for and I will still pretend I don’t know its coming.”

7.

You photographed my eyebrow shapes and turned them into flashcards: mood on one side, correct response on the other. You studied them until you knew when to stay silent.

8.

I bought you an entire bakery so that we could eat nothing but breakfast for a week. Breakfast, untainted by the day ahead, was when we still smiled at each other as if we meant it.

9.

I whispered, “I will latch on like a deadbolt to a door and tell you it is only because I want to protect you. Really, I’m afraid that without you I mean nothing.”

10.

I gave you a bouquet of plane tickets so I could practice the feeling of watching you leave.

11.

I picked you up from the airport limping. In your absence, I’d forgotten how to walk. When I collapsed at your feet, you refused to look at me until I learned to stand up without your help.

12.

Too scared to move, I stared while you set fire to your apartment – its walls decaying beyond repair, roaches invading the corpse of your bedroom. You tossed all the faulty appliances through the smoke out your window, screaming that you couldn’t handle choking on one more thing that wouldn’t just fix himself.

13.

I whispered, “We will each weed through the last year and try to spot the moment we began breaking. We will repel sprint away from each other. Your voice will take months to drain out from my ears. You will throw away your notebook of tally marks from each time you wondered if I was worth the work. The invisible bruises will finally surface and I will still pretend that I didn’t know it was coming.”

14.

The entire time, I was only pretending that I knew it was coming.

- Miles Walser

 Coffee + cigarettes + Mozart's Wolfgang Amadeus.

Speak of beauty, and elevated emotion.

"I was in the winter of my life — and the men I met along the road were my only summer. At night I fell asleep with visions of myself dancing and laughing and crying with them. Three years down the line of being on an endless world tour and my memories of them were the only things that sustained me, and my only real happy times. I was a singer, not a very popular one, who once had dreams of becoming a beautiful poet — but upon an unfortunate series of events, saw those dreams dashed and divided like a million stars in the night sky that I wished on over and over again — sparkling and broken. But I didn’t really mind because I knew that it takes getting everything you ever wanted and then losing it to know what true freedom is.

When the people I used to know found out what I had been doing, how I had been living — they asked me why. But there’s no use in talking to people who have a home, they have no idea what it’s like to seek safety in other people, for home to be wherever you lie your head.

I was always an unusual girl, my mother told me I had a chameleon soul. No moral compass pointing due north, no fixed personality. Just an inner indecisiveness that was as wide and as wavering as the ocean. And if I said that I didn’t plan for it to turn out this way, I’d be lying — because I was born to be the other woman. I belonged to no one — who belonged to everyone, who had nothing — who wanted everything with a fire for every experience and an obsession for freedom that terrified me to the point that I couldn’t even talk about — and pushed me to a nomadic point of madness that both dazzled and dizzied me.

Every night I used to pray that I’d find my people — and finally I did — on the open road. We had nothing to lose, nothing to gain, nothing we desired anymore — except to make our lives a work of art. Live fast. Die young. Be wild. And have fun.

I believe in the country America used to be. I believe in the person I want to become. I believe in the freedom of the open road. And my motto is the same as ever — I believe in the kindness of strangers. And when I’m at war with myself — I ride. I just ride.

Who are you? Are you in touch with all of your darkest fantasies? Have you created a life for yourself where you’re free to experience them? I have. I am fucking crazy. But I am free."

- Lana Del Rey, Ride

Dear time, bring back the past, please. Thank-you. 

Sincerely, girl obsessed with these photographs. 

It's Friday, 3:59 PM. It's finally starting to feel like Autumn. I cannot explain to you how happy that makes me feel. I haven't been on here as much as I used to or as much as I'd want to. I've promised myself to make more of an effort on spending time on the things I enjoy. I have a puppy now, her name is Marley. I know what you're thinking, Marley of all names? But yes, my nephews decided on Marley, so Marley it is. I love my nephews, and I love Marley, too. I'm listening to Sixty-Forty by Nico. God, I love that woman. Her voice is fucking ridiculous...too cool, it's almost unfair. My boyfriend said "I love you" to me a few days ago. It was so alien to me, I didn't know how to react. Truth is, intimacy and emotions freak me the fuck out. Relationships are just as horrid as they are lovely. I'd like to believe I love him, too. I'd like to believe I am capable of loving. My passion are words, sound,  and books. It's my sisters baby-shower tomorrow, sort of dreading it and looking forward to it all at once. Dreading it because I've been feeling those nervous shitty anxiety feelings I get, again. Feeling those feelings around people, especially around people you actually want to be around, can be quite a shit thing to deal with. You have to put up this front and greet and smile, when all you really want to do is go to the park, smoke a cigarette and cry. I hate putting up fronts. Hate it. But at times, it's just necessary. And the looking forward to it part, well, I'm looking forward to my sister with a smile. 
It's funny how that works. How you put aside yourself just to see a person you love smile. 

Current obsessions:

- Just Kids by Patti Smith

- Patti Smith in general

- Every song off of Coexist

- Blue (harmonica mum gave me as a belated birthday gift)

- Healthy eating

- Kissing my boyfriend

- Vintage New York rumbos

- My new-old 1938 Remette type-writer 

- The romanticism of Cigarettes

- Everything Jack Kerouac

- Blood-red nail polish

- Never sleeping before twelve

- Surrealist cinema

- Gothicism

- French muses ( Francoise Hardy & Anna Karina in particular)

- le RTVF class I'm taking this semester

- Disposable film 

- Degrassi (once again)

- Black coffee
- Mod platform shoes

- Fantasizing about an ambiguous future

I want to write poetry for the rest of my life.

I want a night of intense dosage.

I want conversations over wine with some unfathomable Florence stranger.

I want the reign of Christ to hold me captive from my own.

I want happiness to eat me up alive.

I want love to drown me in a sea of lies.

I want to be a girl without a face.

I want every one of my siblings to forget my name.

I want the moon to let me down for a night, just a night.

I want all that I can't have. I want it all.

Well I have brittle bones it seems
I bite my tongue and torch my dreams
Have a little voice to speak with
And a mind of thoughts and secrecy
Things cannot be reversed, we learn from the times we are cursed
Things cannot be reversed, learn from the ones we fear the worst
And learn from the ones we hate the most how to:

Blow out all the candles, blow out all the candles
"You're too old to be so shy," he says to me so I stay the night
Just a young heart confusing my mind, but we're both in silence
Wide-eyed, both in silence
Wide-eyed, like we're in a crime scene.
Daughter, Candles.

MY BODY TELLS ME "NO"

BUT I WONT QUIT

CAUSE I WANT MORE.

It's official, I'm obsessed with Chelsea Wolfe. 

She's going to be performing at The Echo on September 14.

Great way to bring in the two-oh, I'd say so.

They make me melt. 

“They slipped briskly into an intimacy 

from which they never recovered.” 

- F.Scott Fitzgerald, This Side of Paradise

Take your hands off him

Cause he's the only one 

That I have ever loved. 

He shed tears in front of me tonight.

"It feels like I'm being stabbed right in the heart every-time I try to tell you."

I don't think an "I love you" will ever mean the same after this. 

And on the seventh day God said, "Let there be thrift-stores."

And every-other seventh day, I thank Him. 

I'm going on a date tonight 

to try to fall out of love with you.

I know, I know this is a crime. 

But I don't know what else to do.

"As much as I ever could.

Adrian. 21. Denton.

Some people turn sad awfully young.

No special reason, it seems, but they seem almost to be born that way.

They bruise easier, tire faster, cry quicker, remember longer and,

as I say, get sadder younger than anyone else in the world.

I know, for I'm one of them."

Your sadness, it's beautiful.

The way he feels.

I want to drink the tears you cry.

I want your beautiful emotions to live, 

if even for just a moment, inside of me. 

Wednesday is to blame. 

I hadn't had black hair since some once upon a Freshman year.

I don't know what it is about the color black, really.

But lately, it's all I want on me (vestuario wise, ya nasty.)

(P.S;   Yes, that was very much said in Raven tone.)

If I had been on your mind on that day

Holding on to your thoughts, to your mind that way

You could've never jumped down in those arms

You could've never left my heart cold.

I'll never tire of this.

Finally got to watch the film Little Children, 

And I must say: I was not even slightly left disappointed.

Kate Winslet, as always, was just phenomanal in this. 

And Patrick Wilson, well, goddamn...he's perfect.

The overall uncomfortable themes of the story were so neatly put together.

Enough so, I've added the book to my "list of things to order on Amazon" list. 

Someday I'll compose an album, 

And each track will be titled after the time 
of which it was finished. 

11:05 PM.

All of them, por favor. 

Merci beaucoup. 

Before I die, I'd like to experience a night of writing 
While under the influence of drugs. 

Dream boy-toy: Josh Beech.  ♥

Marc Jacobs, I love you.

Oh, Carolyn Jones. You inspire me so.