March 2011
100 posts
caribou - kaili (fuck buttons remix)
fuck buttons and caribou together, shit yes.
you can stream the remix album in its entirety.
fingers fumbling with buttons. you’re in a hurry, you spilled glitter all down your front, you eat a doughnut for dinner hastily and feel the sugar thrumming in your blood. your heels hit pavement, pedals, dance floor. smoke fills your lungs, so sweet. you...
all i ask is: see the wildness in me.
February 2011
80 posts
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alder, hemlock, birch, pine, sitka.
icy bottle green water tumbles through the crystalline craters of kleanza creek
frozen slabs cracked open, bleeding spring rivulets,
ice blossoming high into flowering sculptures where deep pools gather and tumble.
we are snowshoeing.
i pictured contraptions of twig and cured catgut only to find
steel and plastic strapped to my boots.
snow groans beneath...
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“CARS MAN, WHYYYYYY?!”
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my hometown. old friends. I used to feel uncomfortable coming back just as i used to feel uncomfortable dressing ordinarily. the distance I felt needed to be reflected in every perceivable aspect. now I feel settled into myself wholly, it’s not the differences that matter so. it’s the interior landscapes, and the spiderweb connections between beings that help me define myself.
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Watchi haven’t listened to the new radiohead album enough to talk coherently about it, really. i love the first track. and i know that now king of limbs will always remind me of training away from portland, a wistful returning to reality.
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“I want to taste dark water and see crackling trees and wild winds.”
– Egon Schiele (via birdsandbones)
“I believe in pink. I believe that laughing is the best calorie burner. I believe...”
– Audrey Hepburn (via luminescentadolescent)
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Watchi’m a broken record about this band.
a really good recording of a really good show. red cedar’s album release party for enter the sun gods, at the biltmore cabaret, in vancouver, bc.
i got a lot of funny looks this weekend telling people i was from vancouver. i had to clarify “canada”, or “the people’s republic of canadia”. apparently there’s a...
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it was
cycling in portland
i first scented the green musk of summer approaching
headying the air like
the sweet notes of arousal.
even in the dying days of february
with spring flying to meet me
as my tires embraced the road
just as my eyes embraced the night, just so,
the air bloomed into paradise.
not yet, but soon, soon - !
sang my blood.
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Anonymous asked: I am without questions, I just wanted to tell you how moving your writing is. Beautiful. Incredible. Inspiring. Thank you.
yesorotherwise: the scribble pad: walk a midnight... →
yesorotherwise:
walk a midnight walk through the loud of leaves, the lanky winds reaches to touch just under your coat, god will watch you with his unblinking eye the moon, he knows you, he knows you think of me so he thinks of me here in some city some million foot steps away from you, a million i presume, for…
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you are a lovely, worthy, valuable human being. and whether you feel that way all the time or not is irrelevant of its truth.
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“But my words become stained with your love.
You occupy everything, you occupy...”
– Pablo Neruda, So You Will Hear Me
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sometimes the blues is just a passing bird.
the only thing more piercing than the sunlight through the flimsy train curtains is the shrill voices of the adolescent gymnasts in my car. tyra sleeps. i’m too wired. it’s a sunny day and last night i was biking desperately down an alley in the dark, holding a hand over my eyes to keep the hail out while lightning flashed and thunder roared across the nearby bay. i can’t...
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i watched the sun set from my balcony today
clove cigarette in one hand, a clay cup of my grandmother’s full of red wine in the other.
the iron railing chill as i leaned against it, goosebumps raising on my bare legs.
(short skirts a penchant, and bartending no exception).
the clouds were pregnant with rosy fire,
embraced by night on all sides,
infinite plays of blue and grey in the...
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Ghosts and Onionskins: I want to tell you a secret... →
ghostsandonionskins:
I want to tell you a secret
You are born
You grow up thinking that each menial scholastic task is an important stepping stone to a greater future. A future where you’re no longer a kid, so you can get things done. A future where people will take you seriously, because you’ve proven yourself. And…
yes, yes, yes!
