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My heart under your foot, sister of a stone. [entries|friends|calendar]

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[01/24/2007 @ 10:15am]
i dont use this account anymore. please add me under in_plaster


[03/30/2006 @ 7:35pm]
turn into - yeah yeah yeahs

i know what i know
i know
on the car ride down
i hear it in my head real low
turn into the noly thing i ever
turn into
hope i do
turn into you

i know what i know
well i know
that girl you found
keeps that kind of window closed
she'll turn into the only thing that ever
turn into
hope i do
turn into you

can't say why i kept this from you
my, those quiet eyes become you
leave it where it can't remind us
turn this all around behind us
oh, well i know
we'll all fall right in to keep you out
i'd like to tell you all about it

i know
what i know
i know
this is the last time around
i'll hear it in my head real low
turn into the only thing that ever knows
only thing that ever knows

i know what i know
well i know
ah, yes

[03/28/2006 @ 2:21pm]
i'm making huge life changing decisions. i can't tell if i'm setting fires or putting them out.
(4 ) CMNT

[02/12/2006 @ 12:06pm]
i understand everything and nothing all at once.

i love it but i hate it.

i'm excited.
(2 ) CMNT

[02/05/2006 @ 7:29pm]
this is why i love her.

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(4 ) CMNT

[01/28/2006 @ 10:38am]
i just want to meet really good and kind hearted people.

how hard is that?
(7 ) CMNT

[01/19/2006 @ 1:55pm]
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Image hosted by Photobucket.com
Read more...Collapse )
(8 ) CMNT

[01/18/2006 @ 3:00pm]
abusers always play the best victims when they have no one to abuse. i love this system.
(6 ) CMNT

[01/18/2006 @ 2:47pm]
By Your Side

I'll always be by your side
Even when you're down and out
I'll always be by your side
Even when you're down and out
I just wanted to be your housewife
All i wanted was to be your housewife
I'll iron your clothes
I'll shine your shoes
I'll make your bed
And cook your food
I'll never cheat
I'll be the best girl you'll ever meet
And for a diamond ring
I'll do these kinds of things
I'll scrub your floor
Never be a bore
I'll tuck you in
I do not snore
I'd wear your black eyes
Bake you apple pies
I don't ask why
And itrys not to crys
I'll always be by your side
Even when you're down and out
I'll always be by your side
Even when you're down and out
And its nearly midnight
And all i want with my life
Is to be a housewife
Is to be a housewife
'Cause it's nearly midnight
And all i want with my life
Is to die a housewife
Is to die a housewife
(1 ) CMNT

[01/16/2006 @ 7:46am]
i woke up this morning with a really clear head. i'm no longer confused. i know what i have to do about everything now.

yay me.

nicole, i can't afford to live here anymore. let's be roomates in tampa. i'll let you watch me have sex. okay?
(6 ) CMNT

[01/13/2006 @ 10:53am]

Diane Selwyn

Which Mulholland Drive character are you?
brought to you by Quizilla
(1 ) CMNT

[01/02/2006 @ 4:12pm]
happy new year.

nothing has changed. everyone is still an asshole.

i can't wait to see what this year is like.
(7 ) CMNT

[12/21/2005 @ 8:19pm]
The Carcass
-Charles Baudelaire

Remember that object we saw, dear soul,
In the sweetness of a summer morn:
At a bend of the path a loathsome carrion
On a bed with pebbles strewn,

With legs raised like a lustful woman,
Burning and sweating poisons,
It spread open, nonchalant and scornful,
Its belly, ripe with exhalations.

The sun shone onto the rotting heap,
As if to bring it to the boil,
And tender a hundredfold to vast Nature
All that together she had joined;

And the sky watched that superb carcass
Like a flower blossom out.
The stench was so strong that on the grass
You thought you would pass out.

Flies hummed upon the putrid belly,
Whence larvae in black battalions spread
And like a heavy liquid flowed
Along the tatters deliquescing.

All together it unfurled, and rose like a wave
And bubbling it sprang forth;
One might have believed that, with a faint breath filled,
The body, multiplying, lived.

And this world gave out a strange music
Like of running water and of wind,
Or of grain in a winnow
Rhythmically shaken and tossed.

Form was erased and all but a vision,
A sketch slow to take shape
On a forgotten canvas, which the artist finishes
From memory alone.

Behind the rocks a fretting bitch
Looked at us with fierce mien
Anxious to retrieve from the corpse
A morsel that she had dropped.

Yet to this rot you shall be like,
To this horrid corruption,
Star of my eyes, sun of desire,
You, my angel and my passion!

Yes, such you shall be, you, queen of all graces,
After the last sacraments,
When you go beneath the grass and waxy flowers,
To mold among the skeletons.

Then, oh my beauty! You must tell the vermin,
As it eats you up with kisses,
That I have preserved the form and essence divine
Of my decayed loves.

[12/17/2005 @ 11:25pm]
someone kill me. please.
(12 ) CMNT

[12/17/2005 @ 4:52pm]
The Possessed
-charles baudelaire

The sun in crepe has muffled up his fire.
Moon of my life! Half shade yourself like him.
Slumber or smoke. Be silent and be dim,
And in the gulf of ennui plunge entire;

I love you thus! However, if you like,
Like some bright star from its eclipse emerging,
To flaunt with Folly where the crowds are surging --
Flash, lovely dagger, from your sheath and strike!

Light up your eyes from chandeliers of glass!
Light up the lustful looks of louts that pass!
Morbid or petulant, I thrill before you.

Be what you will, black night or crimson dawn;
No fibre of my body tautly drawn,
But cries: "Beloved demon, I adore you!"

[12/14/2005 @ 11:55am]
the kiss
-anne sexton

My mouth blooms like a cut.
I've been wronged all year, tedious
nights, nothing but rough elbows in them
and delicate boxes of Kleenex calling crybaby
crybaby , you fool!

Before today my body was useless.
Now it's tearing at its square corners.
It's tearing old Mary's garments off, knot by knot
and see -- Now it's shot full of these electric bolts.
Zing! A resurrection!

Once it was a boat, quite wooden
and with no business, no salt water under it
and in need of some paint. It was no more
than a group of boards. But you hoisted her, rigged her.
She's been elected.

My nerves are turned on. I hear them like
musical instruments. Where there was silence
the drums, the strings are incurably playing. You did this.
Pure genius at work. Darling, the composer has stepped
into fire.
(2 ) CMNT

[12/13/2005 @ 11:54am]
i can't help it! i love the man!

haha, how great is this?

"As for girls who badmouth me, I don't know what I did to offend you, but I'm sorry. Please forgive me and be nice. My mom was mean. She never liked me. So have a heart." -vincent gallo
(1 ) CMNT

[12/13/2005 @ 11:09am]
for the love of audrey hepburn can someone please explain to me what the hell is going on right now?

by the way, isn't her face absolutly amazing? i mean, really, what normal person is that beautiful? it's way over done, she must have made a deal with the devil. i swear.
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(4 ) CMNT

[12/12/2005 @ 9:13pm]
despite everything that has happened i feel a glimmer of hope and a small electricity zap of happiness.
sleep is much needed and something i've forgotten how to do correctly.

life is good, not calm, but good.
(5 ) CMNT

[12/08/2005 @ 7:49am]
Electra on Azalea Path
-s. plath

The day you died I went into the dirt,
Into the lightless hibernaculum
Where bees, striped black and gold, sleep out the blizzard
Like hieratic stones, and the ground is hard.
It was good for twenty years, that wintering -
As if you never existed, as if I came
God-fathered into the world from my mother's belly:
Her wide bed wore the stain of divinity.
I had nothing to do with guilt or anything
When I wormed back under my mother's heart.

Small as a doll in my dress of innocence
I lay dreaming your epic, image by image.
Nobody died or withered on that stage.
Everything took place in a durable whiteness.
The day I woke, I woke on Churchyard Hill.
I found your name, I found your bones and all
Enlisted in a cramped stone askew by an iron fence.

In this charity ward, this poorhouse, where the dead
Crowd foot to foot, head to head, no flower
Breaks the soil. This is Azalea path.
A field of burdock opens to the south.
Six feet of yellow gravel cover you.
The artificial red sage does not stir
In the basket of plastic evergreens they put
At the headstone next to yours, nor does it rot,
Although the rains dissolve a bloody dye:
The ersatz petals drip, and they drip red.

Another kind of redness bothers me:
The day your slack sail drank my sister's breath
The flat sea purpled like that evil cloth
My mother unrolled at your last homecoming.
I borrow the silts of an old tragedy.
The truth is, one late October, at my birth-cry
A scorpion stung its head, an ill-starred thing;
My mother dreamed you face down in the sea.

The stony actors poise and pause for breath.
I brought my love to bear, and then you died.
It was the gangrene ate you to the bone
My mother said: you died like any man.
How shall I age into that state of mind?
I am the ghost of an infamous suicide,
My own blue razor rusting at my throat.
O pardon the one who knocks for pardon at
Your gate, father - your hound-bitch, daughter, friend.
It was my love that did us both to death.

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