"Even if spikes grow from out of your head

And you're shooting vomit fire all on the bed

And you grow up to hate me; completely insane

Memory will be the same

I'll love you no matter what.

If you're fat or you're small, 

Really short or so tall, 

Weirdest of all.

Even if I'm shocked every-time we embrace, 

And you're shitting spiders all over the place.

You don't wanna love me; You don't want my love.

Know I'll never give up

I love you no matter what."
-  A n t h o n y G r e e n

per·spec·tive/pərˈspektiv/

  - - -

Noun:	The art of drawing solid objects on a two-dimensional surface so as to give the right impression of their height, width, depth, and... A picture drawn in such a way, especially one appearing to enlarge or extend the actual space, or to give the effect of distance.
Synonyms:	prospect - vista - outlook - view "You put my life into perspective."

Please, please, please, let me get what I want ...

It would be the first time.

We, my cheap cellular phone and I,

 enjoy taking screen shots of music videos,

during the spare of our midnight time.

It's 2:55 PM. It's Friday. It's warm outside. I'm in my room, at my desk, sitting Indian-style on my brown leather rolling-chair, currently listening to a distant friend of mine broadcast his genius of music on his college radio station via inter-web. "Remember to hug the people you care about. And also the people you don't care about...you don't want to wake up one day and regret having held a grudge." If I could, I'd hug him right there and then. Circumstances. Arms. Location. These aren't necessarily the words that come to mind when you hug someone. What an underestimate. Embraces are unrequited. Close your eyes, you'll see, I've hugged you with my mind once before.


Oh, something about today just feels so different. so alien. so enlightening. You know, sometimes life is just so perplexing. Most the times, actually. It's like, I want to figure it out. all of it, everything there is to learn and know about this thing called life. And then there are days, like today, where...
you sort of have this moment. 


You find yourself atop this inexplicable awakening, an awakening in which you both awaken and die all at once. And it hits you, the realization...that it really doesn't matter. figuring stuff out. conflicting yourself over the necessary and unnecessary. over the wrong and the right. over the frictions of life and death. It's not about finding, believing, and building, or even about loving. It's not about those feels. It's not about the past, or the awaiting realm. It's nothing. It's about nothing. No particular. No exact. No rendition, translation, interpretation. It's something more. Something more than you, than her, than him, than them, than us. It's about, half-sleeping. Lessening your vision. Oblivion. Abstraction. Nothing. There are no worries. No hours, minutes, seconds. There are no colors. No preferences. No voices. No words. Nothing is really just nothing. When you start losing sight of everything, it's then when things disappear. It's then when things unfold. Wonders. Answers. The world ---

Today, dearer one, I'm losing sight of e v e r y t h i n g . . .

and I'm finding things to be more b e a u t i f u l .

f o u r. 
twenty-six. 
t w o- thousand- t w e l v e.
I don't know where we'll go from here,
Where we'll end, and how, and when...
And honestly, I don't want to know. It doesn't matter. 
We've got now. Now is good enough.

see with your eyes

feel with your hands

hear with your heart.

Trapped in your hot car, I call it my own.

What is yours is mine, what is mine is yours.

I suffocate in the midst of song

My own words make me cry.

Never been much of a romantic

But tonight I'll kiss you underneath the moonlight, baby.

Tonight I'll melt your cool, cool heart.

I   let   love   in,

I       let      love      in,

So, if you're sitting all alone and hear a-knocking at your door

And the air is full of promises, well buddy, you've been warned

Far worse to be Love's lover than the lover that Love has scorned.

" We could be two straight lines in a crooked world --- "

Sometimes, words simply cannot explain.

If I had a heart, I wouldn't feel so empty.

If I had a brain, I wouldn't fall for you so easily.

If I were alive, I'd still be dead. 

Mourning with sips of coffee while lying in bed. 

--- and if I were blind, I'd still be able to see past your obscurity.

There are times where I want nothing else but to forget about the world.

Forget about school, worries, time, judgments, life. Everything.

And all I want to do is dance. Dance until my body quits on its own. 

I want a rush. A blur. A kaleidoscopic vision. 

Tonight. Tonight I'll let go of every composure.
Tonight. Tonight I'll lose  c o n t r o l . 

They say that new life makes losing life easier to understand.

Personally, I think it makes it harder.

Tea Leigh is her name,
And I'm becoming quite obsessed with her tunes.

Pretty girls make graves.

"CATALYST, n.

It surprised me - surprises me still - that you were the first one to say it. I was innocent, in a way, expecting those three words to appear boldface with music. But instead, it was such an ordinary moment: The movie was over, and I stood up to turn off the TV. A few minutes had passed from the end of the final credits, and we’d been sitting there on the couch, your legs over mine, the side of your hand touching the side of my hand. The video stopped and the screen turned blue. "I’ll get it,” I said, and it was halfway to the television when you said, “I love you.” I never asked, but I’ll always wonder: What was it about that moment that made you realize? Or, if you’d known it for a while, what compelled you to say it then? It was welcome, so welcome, and in my rush to say that I loved you, too, I left the television on, I let that light bathe us for a little longer, as I returned to the couch, to you. We held there for a while, not really sure what would happen next."

--  The Lovers Dictionary

Things like these make me smile. 

I want every hair color Kate Winslet's ever had.

"Forgive my lips.
They find joy in the most unusual places."

"indelible, adj.

That first night, you took your finger and pointed to the top of my head, then traced a line between my eyes, down my nose, over my lips, my chin, my neck, to the center of my chest. It was so surprising, I knew I would never mimic it. That one gesture would be yours forever."

ㅡ The Lover’s Dictionary

"On soft Spring nights I’ll stand in the yard under the stars - 

Something good will come out of all things yet -

 And it will be golden and eternal just like that -

 There’s no need to say another word." 
ㅡ Jack Kerouac

Feeling like I'm under the influence/ I've never had a love quite like this/  Cocaine kisses/ Heroin smile/ Toxic touch/ Narcotic rush/  Sfumato in my eyes/ I'd leave if I were wise/ It's clear tonight/ You're an angel in disguise/ Make me feel young again/ Obscure my ancient innocence/  Trace patterns in the maze of my back/ Punch past through my chest/ I'm a tact to your map/ Ink my ivory fleshed canvas with the tip of your tongue/ Drown out the sea of my sullen thoughts/ Beauty is only skin deep/ Baby, draw me in/ Take me there/ With your fingers knotted in my hair/ Life cannot be lived without a weapon or a dream/ Use your teeth/ Have my sleep/ Arouse me underneath the silver sun/ Until both room and sky vex into one/ Our melodious breathing pacing/ Locked and loaded/ Rapid heart beats distort and intertwine in the midst of killing time/ It's not our choice to say/ Finality will have its way/ To hell with heaven/ To mercy with hell/  For this moment alone/ And nothing else/ Meet me once more/ at the end/ We'll start again.

I think I might just have a girl-crush on Hope Sandoval.

She is just so...heavenly, and bad-ass.

“Don't open that door," she said. "The hallway is full of difficult dreams." 
And I asked her: "How do you know?" 
And she told me: "Because I was there a moment ago 
and I had to come back when I discovered I was sleeping on my heart.” 
― Gabriel Garcí­a Márquez, Ojos de Perro Azul

Perfection exists.

people are complicated. but love, love is simple. 

STORY   OF    MY    L I F E .

I'm not asking for your putting-up with me, keeping-up with me, 

I'm not asking for any intent on your behalf, to even try to understand,

to make me smile, to keep me safe, to be my same...

I don't need any of that. All I ask for is your presence, honey darling. 

Stay with me, I'll stay with you. Take me as your girl, be my man.

Explore my lips, embrace my hips, interlock your hand with mine.

Without concerns about tomorrow, or reminiscing of the past,

live time out with me today, just for today. That's all I really ask.

"I can't grow without a weapon or a dream."

-- And it was

A leap of faith I could not take

A promise that I could not make

A leap of faith I could not take

A promise that I could not make

Cenicero, mi cenicero

My ashtray heart

Mi corazón, mi cenicero

I tore the muscle from your chest

Used it to stub out cigarettes

I listened to your screams of pleasure

And I watched the bed sheets turn blood red

Cenicero, mi cenicero

My ashtray heart

Mi corazón, mi cenicero.

Why am I so late at life?

My constant tardiness is quite absurd.

He'll have a bitch-in mustache. Neat-mess hair. Peculiar eyes. A slightly crooked smile. Wears-plaid-shirts, band-tees, fitted-jeans; has a closet full of Keds, Docs, and Chuck-Taylor All Stars kind-of-guy. A passionate one. Persistent, committed, humble, stubborn, understanding. A musical endeavor.  Fan of Tom Waits, Breath Owl Breath, Arctic Monkeys, The Smiths, Nirvana, The Strokes, Sinatra, Radiohead, Van Cliburn, Johnny Cash, Kola 99.9, ... And he'll be like, "Hey-lets-spin-some-LP's-while-sipping-on-some-wine-and-tea" sort-of-guy. He'll be a pizza-eater, glass-bottle-root-beer-drinker, say the word "pop" instead of "soda"...surf-the-web, blog-a-few-posts, watch some late-night films; compare/contrast the ones liked less and most. Wheat for toast, sarcastic-jokes, warm embracing-arms, down to take a metro instead of the car, early-morning walks in the park, random dancing in the dark, owns a library-card, and a pack of cigars kind-of-guy. Adventurous, curious, mysterious, a user of intended-puns. Creative, smart, old-soul, kind-heart, once played the drums, now plays guitar, kid-at-sea, not scared of bee's, finds beauty in leaves of Autumn trees, has morals, beliefs, a fancy for the things unseen...That is just my kind, that'll be my guy.