The Party Is Over: July 2010

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

Sunday, July 25, 2010

...just as long as the flower lives

Saturday, July 24, 2010

One day, you're going to want that specific girl. The one that wasn't perfect, but tried to be for you. The girl who wanted nothing more than to be there for you, and love you the only way she knew she could. The girl who sees your flaws, but values them as much as your strengths. That girl who still can't bring herself to hate you, even though you probably deserve it. That girl who saw past your pretty face and treasured parts of you that no one else appreciated. That girl who realises she may never have your heart, but will carry the image of you in hers forever.

And by the time you realise that's the girl you're looking for, she'll be with the guy who already knew.

MK Obsesh...

...best shoes ever - my favourite of all time - balenciaga.

Thursday, July 22, 2010

do you know what i mean?

hottest legs ever...

i am weightlessly caught in between this notion, and something else entirely....

...everything except myself...

....

Sunday, July 18, 2010

(i) shou(l)d be (ove)r (you)

the less you have to carry.

something in me has ceased to be, it ruptured irrevocably. thank god its internally.

i feel as of late, that my trait is mainly to degenerate, yours is to irritate.

leave me behind, well confined, you'll finally get to unwind - if you should be so inclined.

they say the more you give, the less you have to carry. well I'm weightlessly caught in between this notion and something else entirely - obviously.

they say the more you lead, the less you have to follow. well I'm weightlessly caught in between this notion and some dream...

a partial print is all I'm leaving behind.

a little something to remember me by...

Thursday, July 15, 2010

If I asked you about art, you'd probably give me the skim on every art book ever written. Michelangelo, you know a lot about him. Life's work, political aspirations, him and the pope, sexual orientations, the whole works, right? But I'll bet you can't tell me what it smells like in the Sistine Chapel. You've never actually stood there and looked up at that beautiful ceiling, have you seen that?

If I ask you about women, you'd probably give me a syllabus about your personal favourites. You may have been laid a few times, but you can't tell me what it feels like to wake up next to a woman and feel truly happy.

And I'd ask you about war, you'd probably throw Shakespeare at me, right? "once more unto the breach dear friends."
But you've never been near one. You've never held your best friend's head in your lap, watch him gasp his last breath looking to you for help.

I'd ask you about love, you'd probably quote me a sonnet. But I bet you've never looked at a woman and been totally vulnerable. Known someone that could level you with her eyes - feeling like God put an angel on earth just for you, who could rescue you from the depths of hell!

...and you wouldn't know what it's like to be her angel, to have that love for her, be there forever, through anything, through cancer.

And you wouldn't know about sleeping sitting up in the hospital room for two months, holding her hand, because the doctors could see in your eyes that the terms "visiting hours" don't apply to you.

You don't know about real loss, because it only occurs when you've loved something more than you love yourself. And I doubt you've ever dared to love anybody that much. And look at you... I don't see an intelligent, confident man... I see a cocky, scared shitless kid. But you're a genius. No one denies that. No one could possibly understand the depths of you.

Personally... I don't give a shit about all that, because you know what, I can't learn anything from you I can't read in some fucking book. Unless you want to talk about you, who you are, then I'm fascinated - I'm in. But you don't want to do that do you? You're terrified of what you might say.

Your move boy.