| — | Adele |
I can smell the nag champa & the espresso vodka. I can still smell the les paul Gibson and that nylon string Cordoba. I could still smell the lament, the rage, the torment, the sorrow, the lost little boy, the kind/gentle/piercing blue eyes. And I can even smell your aggression all over it. All I had to do was close my eyes & inhale- and I could feel myself right back in your arms.
Just when I think I’ve escaped you and forgotten, the universe reminds me you will NEVER ever leave me.
| — | Amy Winehouse, apparently this song held more meaning to me than I realized. Feels like my life song right now. |
I know the lyrics from this song are about heroin, but as I listen to this song……..I realize, it could also be describing a love that is like poison and the fire increases the intensity. Just my take. Maybe it’s cause I’m walking around with a broken heart.
This poison’s my intoxication
I broke the needle off in my skin
Picked the scabs and picked the bleeding
And assumed that it was all in vain
A positive scab that’s never healing
Calloused hit me in the face
A burning bridge that’s so misleading
Poison’s more potent now with the flame
-The Used
| — | Unknown Author |
| — | Unknown Author |
I’m watching The Universe again, and they’re talking about black holes. I have to stop and remind myself they are talking about stars and not certain people. You know the type- they have a force field so intense that it draws you near them, only to be sucked into the vast sea of darkness. Now I know why I love astronomy- its real life explained in time+space.
“Gravity will pull things around, and draw them near it. In fact, stars will happily orbit the black hole for most of it’s life, and won’t actually get sucked in by the “fatal attraction” of it. But if you do venture too close, extremely close to the edge, then you do get sucked in.”
in my arms, Beloved, who were lost
from the start,
I don’t even know what songs
would please you. I have given up trying
to recognize you in the surging wave of the next
moment.
| — | Rainer Maria Rilke, You Who Never Arrived, Translated by Stephen Mitchell, 1913-1914 (via wonderfulambiguity) |

