[Nov1109] deer_eyes Alone With Everybody the flesh covers the bone and they put a mind in there and sometimes a soul, and the women break vases against the walls and the men drink too much and nobody finds the one but keep looking crawling in and out of beds. flesh covers the bone and the flesh searches for more than flesh. there's no chance at all: we are all trapped by a singular fate. nobody ever finds the one. the city dumps fill the junkyards fill the madhouses fill the hospitals fill the graveyards fill nothing else fills. /comment

[Nov1109] stratton_blair max asked me out on a date saturday night. then, while i was getting dressed, he told me "never mind". then he asked me back out again...but promised me bowling and ice cream. i'm a pushover. but what a lucky gal i am. 1 /comment

[Nov1109] dancejwandance im feeling really horribly down and beaten like really really beaten and i have beentrying so damn hard to get back on my feet and just try to push forward and get things all sorted out and whta not but its alot harder than i ever expected it to and it sucks because i have been feeling so damn down lately like its a constant down i havent smiled int he longest and im rarely ever hoenstly happy these times and days maybe i get a kick of happyness when im lsitening to a good song or when imw atching an anime or readign a goo d book but thats nto perminent happiness because when im not doign them its liek i ahve to deal with my lfie and all of that drama and shit and it has gotten horribly horribly messy over these last few months and it is begining to become more than i can handle and tehmain problem is that its just so much damn shit going on in my life and its all heavy handed and its all happening to me at one time and its causi ng me tons and tons of problems and its just making me feel more and mroe like crap wich absolutely sucks ass and its hard for me to feel good or have a good day when i have all of this damn shit and mesa shappening to emevery fcuking second soemthign goes worng or doemthign in my life falls apart and you know what i have been tryign my fucking hardest to push through all of this shit and ive been doign it all on my loneseome and its to much for one persont o bare and deal with it but its so hard to have to combat all of this shit on my own its really difficult ... i need liek some major major support on this right now . /comment

THIS PRETTY MUCH SUMS UP MY OPINIONS ON YOURE BEAUTIFUL [Nov1109] luckyjuliet spring keeps you ever close says: because a good looking guy will be a bastard wait i show you this venn diagram damn true SHUYIN says: aiyah the person u love will always be goodlooking to u lahhhhhh and to OTHERS HE MIGHT NOT HE MIGHT JUST LOOK LIKE A MONKEY OR MAKE WEIRD NOISES ( +++ ) /comment

[Nov1109] imanewsoul Koska mä opin? /comment

[Nov1109] bougiebohemian Ok so people are all salty cos GMA cancelled Adam Lambert's performance. Ehh...whatever. If you wanna push the envelope don't be surprised when it blows up in your face. Rubbing his junk all over a dude's face on public TV was not cool or the move @ all. /comment

A Storm In A Teacup [Nov1109] ceriselle Originally published at ceriselle.org. Please leave any comments there. A cup of imaginary voyage – <3 Despite popular belief, I’m not obsessed with tea. Although if I were, wouldn’t these be perfect for me? Pretty purses and cups by Orla Kiely, from the Pod Company (one of my favourite shops in Clifton Village!) This is a stool apparently, from Mocha, only £140 (!) Oh come on, you should expect this by now. If theres pretty pretty things I want, theres probably going to be undies in there somewhere. Bra £48, knickers £29 from La Magia. (Seriously, £80 for an underwear set? I think I heard my credit card cry) A tea cup patterned journal, for…writing down what tea I drank? Another pretty thing from the Pod Company. Also, its not just the image or shape of tea cups that I love. I love the Teahouse Emporium in Bath, because they have loads of teas (seriously, you get given a massive book of them when ordering), yummy cakes and the downstairs tea room reminds me of places in Chester (what is it about Roman cities and underground caves?)

:( [Nov1109] vforvanity /comment

[Nov1109] myblackros3 Your typical bias attitude is driving me crazy and soon, I guess my tolerance level will be killed by YOU!but well,i'm not the only one. /comment

[Nov1109] rosieandtheband I'm kind of back on twitter you guys! 2 /comment

song-drabbles for glee [Nov1109] katwilde [ mood | accomplished ] [ music | beck, "loser" ] Okay, so this is my first attempt at any sort of fanfiction since I was, like, seventeen. The prompt was posted by sgarakaki in puckrachel. Yes, I'm a bit of a dork. So. Here we go. iPod Challenge: 1. Pick a character, pairing, or fandom you like. - Puck/Rachel 2. Turn on your music player and put it on random/shuffle. 3. Write a drabble related to each song that plays. You only have the time frame of the song to finish the drabble; you start when the song starts, and stop when it’s over. No lingering afterward! 4. Do ten of these and then post them - Okay, I only did five. 01. Scissor Sisters, "I Don't Feel Like Dancing" Rachel invites a reluctant, adamant Puck to her family’s holiday party, an apparent family tradition replete with eggnog (okay, that part isn’t so bad), Christmas carols, and dancing. A fight ensues. He doesn’t want to go, doesn’t want to put on a tie, doesn’t do dancing outside of Glee, which he’s still trying to get over. But Rachel wins because she does that thing with her tongue and...he loses his train of thought. But when Rachel shows up wearing a red dress that glitters he feels a bit different. Because it’s clinging to her curves and she’s wearing some kind of miracle push-up bra and her boobs are everywhere. He doesn’t feel like dancing, but he does anyway. She’s bound to make it up to him later. 02. She & Him, "You Really Got a Hold on Me" Rachel Berry’s first impulse on realizing that she is in love with Noah Puckerman is to be...confused. She doesn’t like him very much. He’s rude, pig-headed, a misogynist, and just a...jerk. And she’s told him so. In fact, she’s made her opinion of him very clear. Plus, what kind of nickname is Puck? And even though she doesn’t necessarily want him, she finds that she needs him. Because she loves the way he makes her feel - it’s masochistic, she knows, but she’s become accustomed to him. But it’s more than that - there’s a connection there. When he holds her after...well, you know. She may not like him, but she loves him. And she accepts that. 03. Barenaked Ladies, "It's All Been Done" As unique as their relationship may seem, it’s not that uncommon. A stud like him, a gleek like her. Popular jock and outcast. It’s been done. Rachel’s watched She’s All That enough times in her life to know that this is a semi-worn out cliche. Two people who seemingly hate each other ending up together. And they fight and break up and get back together and have hot make-up sex but...she knows it’s all been done before. He’s experienced and she’s not (at the beginning) but it’s almost expected. No one in Glee is surprised -- Kurt claims he saw it coming ever since Puck sang “Sweet Caroline,” which was clearly dedicated to Rachel. Plus, she had looked like she had just won her first Tony during the serenade. So, it’s all been done. But that doesn’t mean she can’t enjoy it. 04. Regina Spektor, "On the Radio" When they drive around in Rachel’s car (she insists that it’s misogynistic that he be the only one in their...relationship...who’s allowed to be behind the wheel), she demands that she be in control of the music. It’s a November evening and it’s raining, and a song with a relatively good beat starts to play on the radio - and Puck doesn’t completely hate it. Some chick is singing and the words are sad...even though it’s a relatively upbeat tune. And when it’s over, he asks her to play it again. She smiles. 05. Magnet & Gemma Hayes, "Lay Lady Lay" They’re in his bedroom - he’s laying on his bed, she’s at his desk doing homework. He doesn’t bother. But after the silence and the sound of her pen scratching against notebook paper, he decides that’s enough of that. “So, I’ve been working on something,” Puck says, scratching the back of his neck . “Oh, Noah, that’s wonderful! Is it for Glee? Have you done the arrangement? Do I have a solo?” “No, Berry. It’s not for Glee. It’s just...something that I’ve been working on.” “Well, play it for me.” Puck picks up his guitar and starts strumming. And he starts to sing. And Rachel thinks it’s beautiful - his voice is gentle and soft and those are words she isn’t often able to use when describing her quasi-boyfriend, man-friend, her friend who she occasionally makes out with...whatever he is. He starts singing. “Lay, lady, lay...lay across my big brass bed...” Rachel knows the song - she’s not completely unfamiliar with music that falls outside of showtunes and pop songs. She knows that Puck is trying to say something. That he wants her to stay. Turns out, he was paying attention in Glee when Mr. Schue assigned them to sing ballads. When he finishes, he puts his guitar down and lays back down on the bed. She curls up next to him and whispers, “Okay.” They don’t have sex, but he gets to see her in the morning light. And she’s beautiful. /comment

Operation Get Shit Done!!!! [Dec1209] echowilde [ mood | giddy ] ( You are about to view content that may only be appropriate for adults. ) 1 /comment

how can you run when you know? (July 12th) [Nov1109] oh_snap how can you run when you know? Katherine was my favorite out of all of them because she taught us how to Google our drugs. This was before we could google anything— right at the turn of the century. I was stilling using AOL to do it at all, and I used it with such loyalty. But Katherine was older, over eighteen maybe even over twenty-one but I doubt that. She was older and had a hotmail address and a tongue piercing. She’d say “fuck this shit” and she’d say “hand me a pill” and she’d say “look you don’t ever take anyone’s word for anything, that’s how Cracker fucking died.” And no one laughed. You’d think— or I’d think now looking back that you would want to love because Katherine with a K spelled so poetically as if she’d walked out of Sense and Sensibility had loved a man named “Cracker” and this is how he died. “Read it to me,” she’d demand in a voice that I later on adapted (never giving credit) “M-Y-L-A-N” I think that’s what it says— I think it’s an N, try it” “There is no ‘try it’, Daniela, stop sounding so goddamn needy. Put down your cell phone and do not message that boy back. I listened to her because I thought if I could that it would be like magic. Not like a miracle but like magic. I want you to understand that there was a difference. Like how in the 7th grade we stole all those books from Barnes and Noble the ones about witchcraft or “wicca” and then we cast love spells on all the 7th grade boys and I do not know if they worked. We cast one in the 9th grade too, and sadly it did. But the 7th grade I can’t recall, maybe this can be an S.O.S do you still love me Palm Harbor Middle in 1997? Do you still love me at all? But yes, if I listened to her it would be magic, not a miracle. Not a twenty dollar donation over the phone so some man who was closer than you were to God could say a prayer to God for you and then maybe if you donated another twenty dollars God would listen. Magic. Like how when I was 19 I brought everyone back voo doo dolls from New Orleans and my mom said to me as if they’d work “Oh really” with sadness in her face and how Nick still tells me that I smell like voo doo dolls even though I’ve explained numerous times that when I gave him his I doused it in Dior Addict perfume— the only perfume I wear. I also let him cut a piece of my hair off and wrap it around the doll. Nick will love me forever. Really. He may kill me, but it will be with love. It won’t be a MIRACLE it will be Magic. “What are the numbers on the pill” “It says 3-4-5, kind of in a circle” Katherine types in “round pill orange 345”. I say “I think it’s really more of a peach color,” she starts crying in front of the computer and I wish her mom would get a cable modem for the house. I want to tell Katherine about DSL but Katherine skillfully gives blow jobs, she is skillfully not shy, she has no idea that there are books for this or that the pill is actually peach color. I know that no matter what it is she will take it. It could be laxative for dogs and she is going to swallow it in front of me. Once, in another house, with other friends someone worked at a pharmacy and they would get prescription DXM in pill form an we would take it. I didn’t bother to Google it and i don’t remember if I did or did not know Katherine yet but I took the pills and I watched the whole house turn from side to side. The whole house became slanted and it was so funny. It was so funny that I could have died right there, age fourteen. No one’s parents were home. The doctor didn’t make house calls. “So what is it?” “Valium,” she says with a large sigh of relief. Valium. And she swallows. She swallows and lies down on the couch. She tells me that when summer is over she is going to “get the fuck out of this place,” and I want to get the fuck out too. I have this light blue Dickies bag that I use instead of a purse. it’s small and has velcro and a black strap. The internet is slow and Katerhine’s mother is drunk. She is pretty with her name like a novel and I want to tell her. Everyone has just gotten cell phones, we still don’t have digital cameras. And I want so desperately to call him. I want so desperately to have my driver’s license. I am too scared to swallow Valium, I am too scared to Google drugs. Years later in a dorm room at Kent State University, I am staring out my window. I am looking at the steps leading to the unfinished May 4th memorial because when I am “this fucked up” I like to go lie there in the snow and think about the massacre. I listen to “Highway 61” for the first time one day in the car and then I listen to it over and over and over again. The boys go to the drugstore— I wish I could remember what it is— is it Rite-Aid is it a CVS? Where do they go? Do they go to Giant Eagle? Do they switch it up? Did you switch it up? Tell me now, Terrace Hall, torn down into a parking lot, where’d you steal all those Robutusin cough gells from? They are nothing like the pills that someone stole from the pharmacy and I watch the boys I love take ten pills then sixty and once forty. His heart makes a ticking sound. My eyes go black and I pray to anything htat I will not die this way. That my mother will not get a phone call saying I overdosed on the main ingredient in cough syrup. I think of the mother of Sandra Lee Scheuer known to her friends and family as “Sandy” and about how she was shot on May 4th 1970 just walking in between classes. How she died within minutes from loss of blood. They made us watch some video during student orientation and in it Sandy’s mother says she called the hospital when she heard news of the shooting and operator asked her daughter’s name “Sandra Lee Scheuer” and then the operator, or whatever we will call the woman says “Your daughter was D.O.A” and the mother asks all panicked just knowing “D.O.A What does that mean?” And the woman on the other line just says “Dead on arrival”. I see black and remember Katherine and the memorial and how I have always picked up the cell phone but no one calls my mother because I do not die. Someone takes me outside for fresh air and I get to live. Allen takes me outside but I don’t like him the best. He is 21 and doesn’t have a Driver’s License but instead carries a passport. If he remembered me, he’d love me forever too. Miracles. Magic. Type in exactly what you see on the pill. Katherine died to you know? I bet you knew that before you started reading. She slitted her wrists in a bath tub because she loved a man named “Cracker”. Her mother kept chickens in the front yard and left town soon after. I tell this story just like I told it to you, because a girl younger than me picks up a pill and asks what she is, and me, I’d stick it in my mouth even if it was estrogen, but for the sake of our heart beats and our lives I let her type in the search engine. I say in a tone that I had forgotten “will you just fucking read the words already?” I walk into the kitchen and make “green drink” I guzzle it after pilates. I wonder what my body things of me. I wonder how our brains and our bodies have gone on a quarter of a century. Maybe we are not like Cracker. Maybe we are not like Katherine.

Александра, октябрь 2009 [Nov1109] lena_postnova ( +++ ) 2 /comment

China #09 [Nov1109] ultra_violett [ music | Booka Shade ] CHICKEN (FEET) MASSACRE 1 /comment

if you wanna be happy for the rest of your life never make a prety woman your wife [Nov1109] oh_snap I was just reading about how whiskeyface cut off all her hair. Cecilia, it has been so hard for me not to do this every time I throw a fit lately. And I've been throwing lots of fits. Not saying that you threw a fit. I think it's easier for you to chop off your locks where as I usually first decide to leave the country. I also want platinum blond hair as that is my other alternative hair rebellion. (Pink hair is not about rebellion, it's about reaching a state of peace of how much I used to love Nirvana) I think the blondness makes me feel sluttier in a sexy way ---but what the fuck I just learned how to pull off red lipstick a little over a year ago and I really don't need to shake my ass for much of anything these days-- so maybe this mentality should go away along with my misuse of punctuation. Here's to hoping. I've been taking my feelings out on my hair for a long time. Last year someone broke up with me and my first instinct was to cut my hair, my second instinct was to get plastic surgery. My hair is still long. Did society do this to me or did I do it to myself? Do I get to blame my ego or my id? I'll blame the follicles and myself. Randy, I still don't understand why I can't get a perm. A good perm. I don't really want a perm what I want is for someone to wash and blow out my hair every day. Like when I worked at the salon. I want fingers running across myself. When it becomes the winter (and to me winter is anything under 57 degrees) I become a beauty invalid. I would gladly let you dress me, bathe me, slip my clothing over my head. It's much more than laziness it's some larger exterior manifestation of giving up. It'll be so romantic, baby. You can start calling me "Bartelby" and all I'll say in return is "I prefer not to." Every sentence all the time. Then I'll do it anyway. I'm too tired to fight with anybody. I have a cup of iced coffee (the new kind that is tea bag coffee by Folgers-- every time I say 'tea bag' I still feel like someone is putting balls on my face-- but you should try it out) tea bag coffee, who would have thought. Today I am going to continue writing my paper about how Homer was a 22 year old Sicilian girl. I mean about how Homer was me. How one line in one book changed my life & flipped my world upside down. But don't fret pet, that's all I am ever looking for. One line in one book that makes me question everything. That makes me get it right. That puts the focus on whats hidden deep behind the mop of teased hair. Mostly I am Cher in "Mermaids". Mostly I am any female lead who can tease her hair with one hand, sing loudly in the kitchen & reserve special time to cry in the bath tub. Oh universe, if I was only this, if I was only that. Why can't I get a perm that is a perfect blow out every day? I am sick of my writing with my fingers, typing with my hands. When will my wrists start to hurt? I don't want to sit down and read "Death in Venice" today. There is a hair salon opening right around the corner and I want to apply for a job. I never want to actually do hair. I like selling shampoo. I adore selling nail polish. I like washing heads and taking the towels out of the dryer. In a past life it is a lot more likely that I was just the Avon Lady and not a 22 year old female Sicilian Homer spinning tales like Shahrazad. I am a Mary-Kay lady with a Pink Cadillac and I tell them in the back seat that I am a virgin every single time. And I know you think you can tell the difference, but if you don't know if you're a "warm" a "cool" or a "neutral" you don't know if this orgasm is fake, these tits are real or if the dye has seeped way too far into my brain. No-- I'm just kidding. You can tell the peroxide must have penetrated my frontal lobe. "The Penetration of my Frontal Lobe: An Essay on Hair Color, Epic Poems & The Whores that let them." Told in 3 parts by Daniela Scrima. If only my eyes were a little more eye like, I could be "That Girl," too. & Mom, How did you get your hair perfect curled like this? More negotiating with the devil? Why not pass that along in my genetic make-up? Ladies. /comment

home [Nov1109] mythgene [ mood | chipper ] Ooh. Changed my layout (had to, background image on borrowed layout had disappeared-- bandwidth exceeded), now it's more readable and inviting. Might actually start posting here again. I'm spread so thin across the interwebz, but I still think of LJ as home! Seven years, y'all! Seven years! Think I'll go de-privatize old entries in celebration. /comment

[Nov1109] dancejwandance im really quit in love with the twilights ad and its really weird because i have never felt this way towards any other band at all ive only felt this way about the twilight sad and its really weird but i cant help myself. ever sicne i found them a few month ago ive just been listening to them non stop on re peat like i never get bored of listening to them ever i just continue to play them iver and over again not to mentiont hey make me feel when i listen to them soemthign most bands cant get me to do and holy crap james graham that voice in the back drop of all that sonic noise is absolutely beutiful...i think yeah yeah yeahs are movign down to number two and d'espairs ray has soem major competition with the twilight sad. /comment

It snowed and is snowing and my boots weigh 10 lbs each [Nov1109] reqbat I am at the doctors office waiting to see someone to fix my sinuses so tell me stories while I wait? 7 /comment

I HEART YOU ADAM LAMBERT [Nov1109] violetquiche [ mood | giddy ] /comment

navigation [ viewing | most recent entries ] [ go | earlier ]