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parisinflames
βοΈ
[263656]
[2002-07-27 00:43:09 +0000 UTC]
"anna died."
(United States)
# Statistics
Favourites: 171; Deviations: 190; Watchers: 111
Watching: 62; Pageviews: 22574; Comments Made: 6410; Friends: 62
# Interests
Favorite movies: requiemforadream donniedarko gingersnaps1+2 girl,interrupted whiteoleander ckyseriesFavorite bands / musical artists: brighteyes, againstme!, brandnew, getupkids, glassjaw, rilokiley
Favorite writers: anne sexton
# Comments
Comments: 810
I wish we could slip through space and somehow into one another. Somehow that everything could fall apart around us, and nothing would be left except for the metro and our exsistance. Would you run away with me, into the clouds and beyond the dark branches and white sheets of our words? Because it feels as if all I need is to hear your voice and thought, and maybe we could just fall apart into each other with the weight of the world (our voices) in my head. And it feels like if we wait another second, we might never make it and you might never remember me. Nothing left but the empty metro and you, holding your hand out only to forget why..
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*grabs anna and does a happy dance with her* yayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy
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I drew a picture of us, and I thought that warm nights and pavement were saved for the west coast. But picturing us sitting (and you lying) there so close to the earth, I could almost feel my heart beat in coordinance to the flowers in your hair and the note in your hand. Every letter and thought I've kept, and I miss your voice and conversation. Remember, we used to laugh about how we wished the waves would wake us up. Now all I wish for is to drive for hours, If I thought at all that it would give you hope.
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i hope.. for lying down in grass and neverending water, unless it touches the sky. reach for the stars like we did back then, as we sat on pavement and drew them out like technicolor films, laughing and drawing and then there was y-o-u. always with the hope, you could never bring your eyes from where the sky and sea met.
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Or I could taste your doorway, ring your backbone and chew your fingers.
Merci, merci.
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thank you for the watch, your art is amazing.
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I like the way you 'handle' your art...and really love your gallery...great work
x
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you give me this feeling, this feeling deep inside
like flowers blooming in the spring
like the sun rising up from the horizon
H.a.p.p.i.n.e.s.s.
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yeah honestly im not one for them either,
the last one that i thought was going to be a one nighter,
ended up being my longest relationship.
crazy how things work themselves out.
thank you so much for saying I'm pretty.
always nice to hear from someone tallented.
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no, i didn't like you shying away to places i couldn't see your eyes. as thoughtful as you may be, nothing compares to the glimmer in your eyes against the night sky. or the blades of grass reflecting in your hair. there was always something about us. and all i've wanted to do for the longest time was hear your voice and stare into those eyes. just to know that you're (we 're) real.
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ahhhh you are my happiness!
more shall come soon, stencils are being made for shirts i will make out of old fabric. i have some alice in wonderland stencils too.
shall i make you something?
<3
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she sings, you make me happy, when skies are grey.
and on the light green overstuffed couch, under a brilliant sky and blue clouds. stars take shape under this willow where we sit so perfectly. where you sit ..so perfect.
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You are a rare little yellow soap, Missy.
And the younger sister I asked and insisted but my parents didn't give me.
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I love you, Annie,
and all the time you spend commenting me.
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It's not fair we don't live like underworld ants. Or else (where). Among our dirty clothes we should have helmets and early flowers with blind Moscow dolls. And inside our template faces (with eyes melted in the vanity of time) we should have had unveiled puppets.
Or our life would turn into ferriferous drops of nothing.
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I miss you more than snow on beaches and scarves around cold necks. Maybe when summer comes around such things begin to thaw, and I begin to wonder where you're off to ..let me show you rooftop views of stories (on a building) and stars who are said to look so alone. maybe wallpaper and being like stars were meant for us, the shine in your eyes traded for the hands we were holding.
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I wish every day could stay just like tonight, the lake, the fireworks. The way I never felt the need to look back or drive home. The way we could lie in fields staring up, for hours and hours. For so long that every breath we saw came out like cotton sheets. Blue skies and starry nights. I love the time we would spend together, nearing wishing wells and mountains. City lights, oh never again, for they'd find their way to your eyes.
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Funny how things work out. The ones we need don't know we're there.
Maybe I know you miss me. Maybe it's better to keep our voices quiet, because I wouldn't want myself to hear you say those words. Sitting on rocks and looking up at night (yourstarryeyes), it's so lonesome to know that comfort lies in water under tunnels and giggles that little girls spill. (maybeImissyoutoo.) You've always been to stellar for me. You're okay, (butmaybeImissyoumore.)
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And it isn't finished yet: now I do have two other comments of your own, m' dear. Let's see.
I was smiling indeed. I smile a lot during a day. I just don't photograph that too much.
And
it's not cold here either.
The wind blows. But just that.
Or me blowing a kiss to you.
Is anybody able to decode the subtle difference between?
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I am trying to answer all the comments I had received and now read one by Miss Beautiful-Noise-and-Smile about my modest bye-bye-bom. That piece is a collection of all the good moments we (me + friends) have been living since I got my new cell phone. That egg was a Biology work. We had to meet and recognize all the different parts of it. It was sad and meticulous.
Like I am willing to meet you.
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Ditty of First Desire
In the green morning
I wanted to be a heart.
A heart.
And in the ripe evening
I wanted to be a nightingale.
A nightingale.
(Soul,
turn orange-colored.
Soul,
turn the color of love.)
In the vivid morning
I wanted to be myself.
A heart.
And at the evening's end
I wanted to be my voice.
A nightingale.
Soul,
turn orange-colored.
Soul,
turn the color of love.
---
For you. My oh so favourite poet, GarcΓa-Lorca.
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My.
You loved it, m'dear?
I loved
love
will love you.
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I like your pictures. You can have all the free high fives you want.
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you have a great gallery, it has lots of persnality and variety.
i wish i was 13 again, you are very talented..
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If I stay at the center of the world, maybe I can feel your train tracks move about me and I could grab you from above. It's too cold where you live anyway. We can lay on grass or rooftops, with a view of constellations and cityscape that spell out your name. Summer drives and nights under bridges with no cause but to stay silent. That's why I love you. Motels and highwayscapes? That's why I don't know your voice (f a c e) at all.
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The date on your pictures look too much like blurry stars.. maybe one day we can sit in the same train station and look across and never know what we were missing. I just need someone here, closer to home. I don't like to travel; you know that.. I'd give anything for a toy plane to fly us closer together. Maybe just a few hours closer, maybe just a couple area codes apart. Float back on boat if you don't like what you see, these 70s shades and old motorcycle gloves, but don't say we never did care. Bring a life jacket.
E>
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Oh I have no idea why i wrote rofl..<<< has had too much coffee
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I don't know what I'm doing here, honestly. I feel so out of place. City city me. And I sit on my green sofa, so awkward and stupid, wondering just where you are.
Blue skies, or long nights. Why are you wasting so much time talking here to me when you could be out with this boy.. or alone, consuming the stars? (out of place) Alone alone you.
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rofl means rolling on the floor laughing lol
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the swirly one is a 14 gauge one. the rest are regular 18 gauge.
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