the way to my heart is through your words.
the way to your world lay by my lips.
let's go make out at the bookstore
when nobody's around.
i'll be nora, you, joyce.
i'll let you break my heart one more time.
love comes in all shapes and forms, different mediums, and various isms.
don't drowse; love says hi to us everyday.
here he comes, beating pain against your windowsill.
oh hello you, how do you do?
Send me dead flowers to my wedding
And I won’t forget to put roses on your grave
—Mick Jagger and Keith Richards “Dead Flowers”
The Human Abstract
the shortest distance
between two points
I’ve always thought love was like coffee.
You grind the beans and throw it in with water. 2 key ingredients you cannot go without, and neither of them shall go over certain measurement. The volume, the feeling, the effort- they all have to be equal. I mean you really don’t want to waste your time when you know the outcome is going to be lousy before you even push that START button.
Then you brew the 2 together, hoping for perfection. The unbeatable aroma fills the air and knocks you out. Drop by drop, the addiction fills up the carafe. All the excess baggage, the redundant negativity, is collected by the filter as you blend into one another.
When you take that first sip in your favorite mug, the warmth fills up every square inch of your body. The bitter reality awakens you. The satisfaction is impeccable. As you take your last sip, your body craves for more.
There you lay next to your lover watching him dream about airplanes and new guitars with a cup of coffee in your hand. Pure addiction. Flawless gratification. That’s when you realize mornings aren’t as horrid as you thought, and you are in fact pleased that the sun is shining through.
I’ve been shedding my mind because I’ve been courting you by the skin of my teeth.
It’s always your kind that I feel inclined, but I never say what I mean.
I’m spitting pieces of my heart out my mouth, but I still act like I don’t care.
I fear reject, history reflects, and I never say what I mean.
You’re just a maybe, you’re just a maybe. I love you, just barely.
it’s been a almost 15 months, and i still miss her. i hope she misses me, too.
“Maria was like cherry blossoms that flourish all year around. Layers of pale pink petals that showered on you. You’d go home and find one of the petals stuck in your hair and you’d smile; you’d go home and smell her perfume on your coat and you’d smile. The last time I saw her was for the cherry blossom festival at Genki’s old apartment. You looked so pretty in pink.”
“I like long walks on the beach with booze n cigarettes and movie date nights that lead to heavy petting (i love that word. petting). I like borderline homeless looking dudes that wear expensive clothes and my deal breakers include massive cankles, meghan fox lovers, and dudes that think tool is punk.”
“…I had a crush when I first met you at the breakroom. The blinky devil horns were like runway lights to my heart.”
—MySpace friend request.
A Jigsaw falling into place
So there is nothing to explain
You eye each other as you pass
She looks back and you look back
Not just once
and not just twice
Wish away your nightmare
—Thom Yorke at Rose and Crown “Jigsaw Falling Into Place”
“I see her in you.
Do you see him in me?”