unwavering resolve

Stranger Than Kindness from Fever Ray on Vimeo.

the road of golden dust

i'm coming back
i'm trying to
don't know exactly how
but i'm coming back

[i'll try to take back what was once mine]

love eternal

so they say

You Are A: Bear Cub!

Bears are strong and independent creatures who roam in the forest in search of food. Bears are usually gentle, but anger one and be prepared for their full fury! You're big, you won't back down from a fight -- classic attributes of a bear. Intelligent and resourceful, though lazy at times, you are a fascinating creature of the wild.

You were almost a: Kitten or a Lamb
You are least like a: Duckling or a FrogWhat Cute Animal Are You?

lottery or car crash [would the pretty boy on the bus disapprove?]

electric shocks?
i love them
with you dozen a day
but after a while i wonder
where's that love you promised me?
where is he?

bees

"you know," sandy said, "these are supposed to be the happiest days of our lives."
"yes, they are always saying that," jenny said. "they say, make the most of your schooldays because you never know what lies ahead of you."
"miss brodie says prime is best," sandy said.
"yes, but she never got married like our mothers and fathers."
"they don't have primes," said sandy.
"they have sexual intercourse," jenny said.

muriel spark, 'the prime of miss jean brodie'

May 22, 1930

oh, yes. happy birthday, steven patrick morrissey. you too.

procession

yeah. maybe

i just don't know.

why i am a seventeen-year-old girl

[the white hot room, the waiting room]

the pursued, the pursuing, the busy and the tired

cream_crackers were roaring with laughter watching "17 again", "a night at the museum 2" and "ice age 3" trailers
i felt ashamed

[10days without gngrbrd. difficult. last time we spoke was 25h ago. i get jealous i was replaced with others. it bugs me.]

why i am a seventeen-year-old girl

[ tom hollander making out with hugo weaving. mmmmmmm. james purefoy. mmmmmmm. kevin mckidd. mmmmmmm. kevin mckidd making out with james purefoy. MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM. ]

let no one mourn that he has fallen again and again; for forgiveness has risen from the grave

i put the hood on
red
like the comic book villain
and i'm tough

no one can see me
and what i'm trying to hide


i want to grow gills
dive into a deep, clear pond
and rest at the bottom
sleep for years

i'm tired of tasks, duties and entertainment
of friends, adults and disappointments
of sounds, images, scents, flavors
i'm tired of people, ideas, noise
of thinking, talking, interacting
of plans, hopes, expectations

i'm tired


[ gingerbread says: if your powers are running low, just put on your cape, superhero. ]

why i am a seventeen-year-old girl

is she back?!

or is it just madelyne pryor?

common around here

the only thing i have now
are the brown camper shoes
so i go out walking
hoping they will lead me to the right destination
the outside won't notice i'm walking tearfully
the outside is crying itself

a storm is gonna come

and there's no shelter nor defender
because of the separating big water
so i can only curl up
and wait

8 days, spring and cookie dough

prof. Zbigniew Religa

16 December 1938 - 8 March 2009

[5 pennies a day]

thanks be to the pretty boy with nice white teeth on the bus for saving me from lowering standars

i want to hide under the snowy duvet outside
and fall into deep sleep
decompose and become absorbed by the environment
travel deep into the soil
and rest

[winter when you're almost 24 seems like the perfect time to start a mid 20s crisis]

why i am a seventeen-year-old girl

my band

maybe a certain someone is right, maybe i am hyper, wasting energy, enthusiasm, etc., when i should be reserved, distant and inhibited, like grown-ups.

why i am a seventeen-year-old girl

Harold Pinter

10 October 1930 - 24 December 2008


[thanks to the generosity of the beloved mr coffey i was very fortunate to have seen mr pinter's 'no man's land' starring sir gambon in the dublin's gate theatre]

nix in nemore

bad day
when you wish
there was nothing
when we are separate
i am sad and sore
it is never soon enough

the horses are coming

[i'm exploding with colors, gngrbrd drowns me in sea of affection]

Inmaculada Concepción

home and dry
far away
oh tonight
i miss you

boys, girls, drugs, lunacy

in the dark, in the back of the van
cautiously holding your hand
making eyes, making everything alright
being home, being all alone
feeling sad, watching the phone
singing out, singing everything’s alright

you set me on
you set me on
you set me on fire

in the dark, in the back of the van
cautiously holding your hand
making eyes, making everything alright
when i’m out, when i’m far away
wanting you, wanting to stay
singing out, singing everything’s alright

you set me on
you set me on
you set me on fire

when i wake and i’m far away, i know that you’re leaving
in the dark when i’m all alone, i’m scared that you’re leaving
when i wake and i’m far away, i know that you’re leaving
in the dark when i’m all alone, i’m scared that you’re leaving

cause
you set me on
you set me on
you set me on fire

you set me on
you set me on
you set me on fire



[back of the van, ladyhawke]

third grade gay

your father's high horse

my delicate, boy-ish heart ached a little bit yesterday, when i was coming back from the airport.
unfortunately, there was no time or place for film-like emotions or weepy eyes;
young, christian missionary maidens on the bus were living 'it' (gosh), reading a student magazine 'deficit'(seriously), sharing novelties about lodging an appeal, about student loans, about polish mayo being good because it's polish; they were bursting with life, giggling.

so, no classes today, today is convalescence, today is rarities and titbits, oreo, horlicks, ovaltine, cheesecake and naps and other delicacies, whole bunch of tv shows.

2.4GHz

ohmyplease, i want fresh lychee, peaches, strawberries, raspberries, blueberries, blueberries, blueberries, pink lady apples, i want to prepare fruit salads, cocktails, eat lemon meringue tarts, i want to have my private space but i want to be complete, i want to be back, i want my emotional outlet not to consume the better part of me, i want structure, i want the day not to get greydarkugly already after 4pm. and oreo milkshakes/malts.
[i guess i am not so homeless after all]

between new york and dublin

the summer has ended

go gordon! go ramsey! go gordon! go ramsey! go gordon! go ramsey! go beyoncé! go beyoncé! go david! victoria! go david! victoria! go david! victoria!

go beyoncé! go beyoncé!




[gingercub himself. he's the green bear(tshirt)- he's irish, i'm the white one- i'm a divine creature. or i simply have a dazzling personality.]

go britney! go justin!

some are saying i'm heading for a meltdown

Sligo / Benbulben

Poolbeg

global caller

ogosh, magical things, in the kitchen with the lights dim, raindrops knocking on the windows, we spoke* in subdued voices, no stereo, we drunk warm milk to múm's 'kostrzyn,' magic, love, ultimate things.



[*about memories and energy and laws of physics]

of all the children the dog was the most different

shortcuts and hiccups

today i gave life to the computer
and as all beings newly born
it demanded attention
it would demand my immediate return if i walked away for a moment
so we spent the whole afternoon together
listening to sounds and looking at each other
waiting

Mullaghcleevaun

 

synchronisation