Thursday, June 25, 2009
you can never hold back Spring
i wondered if anyone from our graduation class had read or started reading that book they gave us at our valedictory, don't waste your life by john piper. it is motivational book based on christian principles. not being very religious myself i was surprised that i picked it up today. but that's not the subject of today's post.
despite all that has happened, these past three months being the longest as such i have ever lived through, i found myself remembering the good things. at these times i knew for sure that i was in love and that everything was okay. i suppose we all carry burdens : loneliness, mistrust, disappointment, anxiety...but he was there. at that time he would be my last first kiss and i could not bear or even comprehend the thought of him ever going way. i could have stayed awake with him for another hour or two even when i was dead tired. i could have but then there was the inevitable.
here's to your scooter parked in my driveway
here's to falling asleep on your chest
and then letting you out of my gate at one in the morning, although i could have stayed with you all night.
here's to arguing in the car.
here's to playing singstar with perfect strangers.
here's to rocking up at people's houses where i didn't even know the host
and eating their food.
here's to making out.
here's to picnics.
here's to the time you shut my eyes and lead me over that little stream on valentine's day.
here's to that song you sang to me, the song i haven't listened to since because it kills me.
here's to when you were sick and i tried to cure you, and ended up breaking the thermometer and having the mercury spill all over the kitchen counter.
here's to when you came on holiday with us and we got lost looking for thrift stores in knysna.
here's to long street.
here's to when you took me to the labia and i wore a black dress.
here's to when our hands were all sweaty.
here's to when you danced with me before you even knew my name.
and when we danced under the moon without music but we didn't need any.
here's to when you tried to dunk me in the pool.
here's to fashion policing.
here's to electro parties.
and then surfing, when i tried to look the part but that didn't matter and then the surfboard hit me on the back of the head.
here's to climbing over the fences onto the private jetty and spying on people in their catamarans.
then we kissed on the pier.
here's to that gatsby we shared.
here's to the flowers you brought me when i was sick.
here's to unexpected conversations.
here's to when you said you liked it when i sang.
here's to your cowboy costume.
and your impossible curly hair.
and when you hid away after you cut it all off.
here's to when i ate an oyster and you made a face.
here's to when we went ice skating and i took a spill on the ice and someone yelled you should hold my hand.
here's to the time at the spur where i asked them to sing you happy birthday even when it wasn't really your birthday and you got a balloon.
here's to when i got my exam results and you came with me.
here's to when i was your princess.
cheers to that.
and goodnight.
despite all that has happened, these past three months being the longest as such i have ever lived through, i found myself remembering the good things. at these times i knew for sure that i was in love and that everything was okay. i suppose we all carry burdens : loneliness, mistrust, disappointment, anxiety...but he was there. at that time he would be my last first kiss and i could not bear or even comprehend the thought of him ever going way. i could have stayed awake with him for another hour or two even when i was dead tired. i could have but then there was the inevitable.
here's to your scooter parked in my driveway
here's to falling asleep on your chest
and then letting you out of my gate at one in the morning, although i could have stayed with you all night.
here's to arguing in the car.
here's to playing singstar with perfect strangers.
here's to rocking up at people's houses where i didn't even know the host
and eating their food.
here's to making out.
here's to picnics.
here's to the time you shut my eyes and lead me over that little stream on valentine's day.
here's to that song you sang to me, the song i haven't listened to since because it kills me.
here's to when you were sick and i tried to cure you, and ended up breaking the thermometer and having the mercury spill all over the kitchen counter.
here's to when you came on holiday with us and we got lost looking for thrift stores in knysna.
here's to long street.
here's to when you took me to the labia and i wore a black dress.
here's to when our hands were all sweaty.
here's to when you danced with me before you even knew my name.
and when we danced under the moon without music but we didn't need any.
here's to when you tried to dunk me in the pool.
here's to fashion policing.
here's to electro parties.
and then surfing, when i tried to look the part but that didn't matter and then the surfboard hit me on the back of the head.
here's to climbing over the fences onto the private jetty and spying on people in their catamarans.
then we kissed on the pier.
here's to that gatsby we shared.
here's to the flowers you brought me when i was sick.
here's to unexpected conversations.
here's to when you said you liked it when i sang.
here's to your cowboy costume.
and your impossible curly hair.
and when you hid away after you cut it all off.
here's to when i ate an oyster and you made a face.
here's to when we went ice skating and i took a spill on the ice and someone yelled you should hold my hand.
here's to the time at the spur where i asked them to sing you happy birthday even when it wasn't really your birthday and you got a balloon.
here's to when i got my exam results and you came with me.
here's to when i was your princess.
cheers to that.
and goodnight.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
eurotripper
eurotripper - a person acting as if under the influence of drugs after having taken a substance that contains no chemical stimulants.
eurotrash - a girl who is, well, trash but still desirable in many ways /worn out by excess partying and jetlag.
my eurotrip itinerary as follows:
eurotrash - a girl who is, well, trash but still desirable in many ways /worn out by excess partying and jetlag.
my eurotrip itinerary as follows:
PARIS
the louvre, €9 for full day pass.
the eiffel tower, €11
montmatre/moulin rouge show, €89 to €140
notre dame cathedral - free entry
l'opera garnier
champs elysees
les puces market, porte de clignancourt
palais royal
quartier saint-germain des pres
cluny medieval museum
le bon marchee 7th
sacre coeur
avenue montaigne
picasso museum
LONDON
The Tower of London
Hyde Park
Madame Tussauds - £22.50
Camden Town market
Oxford Street
Piccadilly Circus
West End
St. Paul's Cathedral
Westminster Abbey
National Gallery
Buckingham Palace
Trafalgar Sqaure
Monday, June 22, 2009
shoot me that camera baby
speaking to a friend today i offered to shoot her an amateur model portfolio with my (dad's) magnificent SLR camera, free of charge. since i'll be working at a fashion magazine later this year i decided i'd give it a shot and go ahead and shoot.
equipment needed:
• backdrop placed behind the model
•a studio flash for the main source of light, or natural light from a side window.
•a bounce is needed to reflect light underneath the models eyes
•tripod for mounting your camera
• backdrop placed behind the model
•a studio flash for the main source of light, or natural light from a side window.
•a bounce is needed to reflect light underneath the models eyes
•tripod for mounting your camera
the type of modelling you want to shoot determines the overall look of the portfolio such as glamour, commercial print, freelance, lifestyle or swimsuit modelling.
include a headshot, three quarter body shot, smiling shot, action shot and full body shot. show diveristy with various wardrobe choices, poses and locations.
purchase a portfolio case that can hold between 15 and 20 8"x10" photographs, both in black and white and colour.
less is more. pick only a few of your best photographs. think 'wow' factor.
your book is a collection of the model's best phot0graphs, demonstrating how photgenic she is, her professional experience and ability to work in various situations.
your book must stand out. professional edge gets a client's attention. place your best photographs on the right hand page.
provide a strong conclusion to the model's portfolio.
your book must stand out. professional edge gets a client's attention. place your best photographs on the right hand page.
provide a strong conclusion to the model's portfolio.
hire a naive photo assisant to carry the equipment, bring coffee and hold up reflector screens.
work it girl
want my stuff back
just a quickie before i have to go to work.
This goes out to my ex-boyfriend:
I WANT MY PINK SKINNIES BACK, YOU ASSHOLE.
*exclamation point, exclamation point*
This goes out to my ex-boyfriend:
I WANT MY PINK SKINNIES BACK, YOU ASSHOLE.
*exclamation point, exclamation point*
Sunday, June 21, 2009
my friends wear tuxedos to social gatherings.
is it true that we end up hurting the only ones we truly love? in that case, i wonder, did he ever love me?
college kiddos.
dance with me !
on a table...?
a beautiful girl.
and another.
that was at a bar (sushi bar).
when we were school-girls.
of all the kisses in the world..
the act of pressing one's lips together. may involve lip-sucking, tongue rolling or saliva exchange.
a kiss on the hand may be quite continental...you know the rest. (the corsage was a romantic gesture)
encounters documentary festival
FOKOFPOLISIEKAR - "forgive them for they know not what they do"
Screens: thursday 9 july 8:45pm
Sea Point Days
Screens: friday 3 july 8:30pm
Lunchbox Bullies
Screens: friday 10 july, 6:45pm
Rewind
Screens: sunday 5 july, 6pm
an aquarian exposition, white lake NY
something i found.
my very first music festival. everybody was drunk.
Adrian, mister Adrian to you. adrian never quite understood the meaning of a full service.
charlie sent for his Angels and he got us!
i'm a dysthymian
this is what it comes down to :
The Doom and Gloom Club
where i find myself trying to think of stuff to say to people whom i ACTUALLY don't want to talk to anyway.
where i find myself going out in a bad mood then drinking vodka to improve it.
where i feel like kicking myself because i said a stupid thing.
where i then feel like taking back that stupid thing.
where i find myself looking up self-help stuff on wikihow like, 'how to improve your self-esteem' and 'how to live with herpes.'
where i wash my hair too much, even when it's not even that dirty.
where i shout and yell and throw things at a relative or family member for asking me dumb questions like 'have you taken your zoloft this morning?' fml.
where i seriously think i have a mood disorder and should call up my therapist for a good ol session.
where i question my seratonin levels.
where i am heart broken and suffer from a lack of REM sleep.
The Doom and Gloom Club
where i find myself trying to think of stuff to say to people whom i ACTUALLY don't want to talk to anyway.
where i find myself going out in a bad mood then drinking vodka to improve it.
where i feel like kicking myself because i said a stupid thing.
where i then feel like taking back that stupid thing.
where i find myself looking up self-help stuff on wikihow like, 'how to improve your self-esteem' and 'how to live with herpes.'
where i wash my hair too much, even when it's not even that dirty.
where i shout and yell and throw things at a relative or family member for asking me dumb questions like 'have you taken your zoloft this morning?' fml.
where i seriously think i have a mood disorder and should call up my therapist for a good ol session.
where i question my seratonin levels.
where i am heart broken and suffer from a lack of REM sleep.
london calling
no strings attached hook-ups
one penny stamps, lickable.
eighty-five pounds per month rent (sharing)
upside down photo snaps
the best curry this side of bond street
only kissing boys in bands
bank holidays.
a gang of yuppie london youngsters you found yourself sharing a dorm room with (sharing toilet seats, the one shower, coffee and borrowing money off you, too)
that guy who sleeps on the sofa moved in a month ago. nobody knows who he is, but he's been around ever since.
southerners in breaches.
pushing your way through queues to get to the front, then proclaiming your love to the lead singer of does it offend you yeah? so that he looks at you and winks.
foul-mouthed cockneys.
a pet spring piglet.
hopping on the train at king's cross then catching the next one back.
skipping along bridges.
walking miles through backstreets and side roads because you lost your bus ticket and now you're shoes are soaked right through.
flashing at the Gay Pride March.
sling-shotting pigeons in hyde park.
the londoner's loaf and the cockney slang.
working twelve hour shifts at the bree louise and having some ex-ship's captain grab your ass behind the counter.
going to watch a david bowie cover artist
spilling red wine on the carpet then demanding a refund.
getting free tickets to hard rock calling
bribing a bouncer to let you in without a fuss. also throw in a pint with that.
trying to drive unlicensed at piccadilly circus
dinosaur bones at the natural history museum
posing with freddie mercury at madame's
shouting obscenities at opposing football teams
jumping over the greenwich meridian at greenwich
Everybody say UK!
one penny stamps, lickable.
eighty-five pounds per month rent (sharing)
upside down photo snaps
the best curry this side of bond street
only kissing boys in bands
bank holidays.
a gang of yuppie london youngsters you found yourself sharing a dorm room with (sharing toilet seats, the one shower, coffee and borrowing money off you, too)
that guy who sleeps on the sofa moved in a month ago. nobody knows who he is, but he's been around ever since.
southerners in breaches.
pushing your way through queues to get to the front, then proclaiming your love to the lead singer of does it offend you yeah? so that he looks at you and winks.
foul-mouthed cockneys.
a pet spring piglet.
hopping on the train at king's cross then catching the next one back.
skipping along bridges.
walking miles through backstreets and side roads because you lost your bus ticket and now you're shoes are soaked right through.
flashing at the Gay Pride March.
sling-shotting pigeons in hyde park.
the londoner's loaf and the cockney slang.
working twelve hour shifts at the bree louise and having some ex-ship's captain grab your ass behind the counter.
going to watch a david bowie cover artist
spilling red wine on the carpet then demanding a refund.
getting free tickets to hard rock calling
bribing a bouncer to let you in without a fuss. also throw in a pint with that.
trying to drive unlicensed at piccadilly circus
dinosaur bones at the natural history museum
posing with freddie mercury at madame's
shouting obscenities at opposing football teams
jumping over the greenwich meridian at greenwich
Everybody say UK!
typewriting
I am going to be interning at seventeen magazine from 31st August to 4th September. As part of my internship I am going to be shadowing the editorial team. this will give me some much needed experience in a creative environment. who knows, maybe one day i'll find myself as an assistant editor for a publication. and then editor? after all, i know that whichever career I pursue, be it screenplay writing, investigative journalism, children's books, blogging, lyrics, best-seller-list fiction, non-fiction, restaurant menus, copywriting, sports journalism or writing of adult erotica, i will be a writer.
i'd like a loft apartment in soho, manhattan, my own apple mac, a couple of new pens that don't run dry (i hate dry pens), starbucks every morning delivered hot to my door, a sexy irish boy who delivers it in union jack boxer shorts, a closet of clothes and a whole ton of fresh ideas for each new day.
i'd like a loft apartment in soho, manhattan, my own apple mac, a couple of new pens that don't run dry (i hate dry pens), starbucks every morning delivered hot to my door, a sexy irish boy who delivers it in union jack boxer shorts, a closet of clothes and a whole ton of fresh ideas for each new day.
this again.
in the words of anberlin
"i wanna be your last first kiss/that you'll ever have/i wanna be your last first love/that you'll ever have."
I thought it was so. but now my hair smells of smoke. i've been moody and broody for too long, listening to songs like this and spending too much time reminding myself of the things i cannot change, or the truths that just won't suffice.
I'd like to proclaim it's not over now, but girl, it is.
I'd like to pretend he'll be back, but girl, he's gone.
I pretty much freaked out the other night. Probably because everything got too much. The separateness, the wickedness. then i had thoughts of revenge. my grief was turned into ash. i began to wonder what i could do to get my own back. i've never been much of a vengance-seeker. i think it's about time i played dirty. things have gotten messy enough.
Saturday, June 20, 2009
that's miss to you, danny.
Okay, so I officially feel like I'm the world's biggest LUNATIC.
All I seem to pity is myself because I went and got my heart broken a couple of months ago wah wah wah. and now look at me, still a mess with circles under my eyes and a significant lack of inspiration. god, I haven't had a good idea in what seems like forever. I seem to spend my life being bored.
boredom.
it's like a disease.
i would not be surprised if somebody came and slapped me straight up in the face.
i tell myself i feel alone, yet when i force myself to go out even when i don't feel like it i end up feeling even worse. because i always seem to be right in the middle of group of people where i feel like the odd one out.
but still i do it.
what is it with me and things that aren't good for me? i seem to attract trouble and drama and conflict. i seem to be a walking bomb. and that ain't something good.
yeah, so what you're on about me?
pick me up, turn me upside down
buy me drinks
move out of my way.
yeah, perhaps i'm crazy.you get me?
i'll do whatever you like.
All I seem to pity is myself because I went and got my heart broken a couple of months ago wah wah wah. and now look at me, still a mess with circles under my eyes and a significant lack of inspiration. god, I haven't had a good idea in what seems like forever. I seem to spend my life being bored.
boredom.
it's like a disease.
i would not be surprised if somebody came and slapped me straight up in the face.
i tell myself i feel alone, yet when i force myself to go out even when i don't feel like it i end up feeling even worse. because i always seem to be right in the middle of group of people where i feel like the odd one out.
but still i do it.
what is it with me and things that aren't good for me? i seem to attract trouble and drama and conflict. i seem to be a walking bomb. and that ain't something good.
yeah, so what you're on about me?
pick me up, turn me upside down
buy me drinks
move out of my way.
yeah, perhaps i'm crazy.you get me?
i'll do whatever you like.
Friday, June 19, 2009
dirty pretty blues
Him: I don't think you're the one I'm going to marry.
Me: You don't even know me.
Him: I think I do.
Me: When did you decide this?
Him: After about three months.
Me: Fuck you.
Him: So I guess this is goodbye.
Me: Don't think you get off so easily.
Him: What do you mean?
Me: You know what? You're just an asshole. I'm going now.
Me: You know what? You're just an asshole. I'm going now.
(and you don't get the last word.)
Aimee's smokin' up outside.
Aimee's hanging from the ceiling.
Aimee thinks you're just a boy with no ambition.
I may as well just go out and drink tequila and burst my eardrums sitting on the amp. or stand in the centre of the dancefloor dancing with myself.
thank you and good night.
Saturday, June 13, 2009
stuff you should take on a trip.
l'appareil photo le billet le passeport la valise de guess
le carte de france le chewing gum bungee cord antihistamines
union jack boxers eyelash curler bath duck jesse bradford
the girl and the alleycat
i've noticed that's i'm in pretty much the same mood as i've been for the past few months. rather disenchanted. a little glum. i actually haven't had much of a change of mood in a while. my temperament as been very flat. not really volatile as it would usually be, but just consistently low.
the boy i've been moody over for the past three months was clearly afraid of heights. i need a man, not a boy, and one who can look down and not be afraid.
I would choose to feel angry, as this is one of my two modes. the other is feeling hurt. just that.
some days i'm angry. it is a sweet escape. such feelings are red hot and burn away any sentiments. the other one, the hurt, is sympathetic
I am wondering what I need to do to become a great writer. am i out of my depth here? Here's how it goes.
I read over my draft and find something is not right.
I change a word or two.
I scratch out some more.
A paragraph.
Then a whole chapter.
I take a break. Stretch my legs. Drink tea.
Then another.
I sit back down at my desk and consider.
Shh. Eliza's sleeping now.
the boy i've been moody over for the past three months was clearly afraid of heights. i need a man, not a boy, and one who can look down and not be afraid.
I would choose to feel angry, as this is one of my two modes. the other is feeling hurt. just that.
some days i'm angry. it is a sweet escape. such feelings are red hot and burn away any sentiments. the other one, the hurt, is sympathetic
I am wondering what I need to do to become a great writer. am i out of my depth here? Here's how it goes.
I read over my draft and find something is not right.
I change a word or two.
I scratch out some more.
A paragraph.
Then a whole chapter.
I take a break. Stretch my legs. Drink tea.
Then another.
I sit back down at my desk and consider.
Shh. Eliza's sleeping now.
Friday, June 5, 2009
may as well put that gun to my head
Went downtown last night to watch the show
Pushing past spirit soaked bodies ohh
Cut my hair into bangs ohh
Been living in smoky joints since I was thirteen
You’ve heard it all before
Said I’m leaving, said everything in between
Took my father’s money, shut that door
The filth of youth
Up and around
Was pushing down in London town
Given up on chasing stars
Girls like me drinking
With boys in bars
Could’ve told me, could’ve left your name
Could’ve said it was all about the fame.
Tonight like it was back in 1983
Throw all your hands up at me!
Kiss that city and jump the lights
La la la not listening
Dirty looks and stupid fights
Jump that city
Hitch up my skirt baby
Call me up and go on, explain
say what you like, say what you feel
But I’m never never
Never gonna hear you out again.
Now when you’re gone
Got your hands
over my ears
Cigarettes burned out
the excuses
Up against the wall and it looks like rain
The city pulses after dark and I’m back here again.
Didn’t see my boy after then
(Sure, he was gone after then).
So she’ll collapse
Hold up her head now
Boys and girls in the phone booths now
Public riots and band-aid politics
Tights with holes and hats on girls.
(Tights with holes and hats on girls)
So burn me
burn down my house oh yeah
may as well put that gun to my head
don’t call me baby (baby)
one way
lights up ahead
there was backstreet kissing
temperatures raised.
Now when you’re gone
Got your hands
over my ears
Cigarettes burned out
the excuses
Up against the wall and it looks like rain
The city pulses after dark and I’m back here again.
Didn’t see my boy after then
(Sure, he was gone after then).
Pushing past spirit soaked bodies ohh
Cut my hair into bangs ohh
Been living in smoky joints since I was thirteen
You’ve heard it all before
Said I’m leaving, said everything in between
Took my father’s money, shut that door
The filth of youth
Up and around
Was pushing down in London town
Given up on chasing stars
Girls like me drinking
With boys in bars
Could’ve told me, could’ve left your name
Could’ve said it was all about the fame.
Tonight like it was back in 1983
Throw all your hands up at me!
Kiss that city and jump the lights
La la la not listening
Dirty looks and stupid fights
Jump that city
Hitch up my skirt baby
Call me up and go on, explain
say what you like, say what you feel
But I’m never never
Never gonna hear you out again.
Now when you’re gone
Got your hands
over my ears
Cigarettes burned out
the excuses
Up against the wall and it looks like rain
The city pulses after dark and I’m back here again.
Didn’t see my boy after then
(Sure, he was gone after then).
So she’ll collapse
Hold up her head now
Boys and girls in the phone booths now
Public riots and band-aid politics
Tights with holes and hats on girls.
(Tights with holes and hats on girls)
So burn me
burn down my house oh yeah
may as well put that gun to my head
don’t call me baby (baby)
one way
lights up ahead
there was backstreet kissing
temperatures raised.
Now when you’re gone
Got your hands
over my ears
Cigarettes burned out
the excuses
Up against the wall and it looks like rain
The city pulses after dark and I’m back here again.
Didn’t see my boy after then
(Sure, he was gone after then).
cuss words and critiques
i seem to have an ailment worse than common flu. it's called not-wanting-to-leave-the-house-in-case-i-might-not-be-indie-enough-for-this-city-or-perhaps-nobody-will-ever-want-to-publish-my-book fever. i suggest you do not come closer, as it may be contagious.
if i could try and diagnose myself i'd say i'm suffering from a cold chill with a boat of despair, due to a lapse in self-confidence. once again i do stress that you do NOT come near me. i might just depress you and you may want to slap some sense into me.
this city is too much for me at times.in fact, it is so infectious, so conscious, so vain and insecure and utterly RADICAL that i can only be in it for a short period of time before saying i need to go home and collect myself. there's just so much to see. so much to buy, eat, drink, hear. there are also thousands of others just like me who also want a piece of it. a biiig, fat piece of it too, and as swallowed as i am, i cannot help feeling more and more constricted every day. this generation is a great contest for the top spot. we awesome people are perhaps not so awesome, really. i think we should all stop what we are doing and descend. after all, we're all just people. people trying, people striving, people trying to find out who we are and secretly, perhaps when you're alone and not surrounded by awesomeness, you may feel, 'gosh. do i make the cut? am i really as awesome as the next person? or is this one big sham that i, the non-conformist extraordinaire, am conforming to?'
conform to non-conformism my friends. make an appearence and celebrate yourselves. but do not forget reverence.
if i could try and diagnose myself i'd say i'm suffering from a cold chill with a boat of despair, due to a lapse in self-confidence. once again i do stress that you do NOT come near me. i might just depress you and you may want to slap some sense into me.
this city is too much for me at times.in fact, it is so infectious, so conscious, so vain and insecure and utterly RADICAL that i can only be in it for a short period of time before saying i need to go home and collect myself. there's just so much to see. so much to buy, eat, drink, hear. there are also thousands of others just like me who also want a piece of it. a biiig, fat piece of it too, and as swallowed as i am, i cannot help feeling more and more constricted every day. this generation is a great contest for the top spot. we awesome people are perhaps not so awesome, really. i think we should all stop what we are doing and descend. after all, we're all just people. people trying, people striving, people trying to find out who we are and secretly, perhaps when you're alone and not surrounded by awesomeness, you may feel, 'gosh. do i make the cut? am i really as awesome as the next person? or is this one big sham that i, the non-conformist extraordinaire, am conforming to?'
conform to non-conformism my friends. make an appearence and celebrate yourselves. but do not forget reverence.
we, inanimate.
we, the soldiers.
we, kings.
we are revolutionists.
we,
boys in bands and smokes and things
me, i am kneeling at an angle
knees in the dirt, wide angle, wide!
the lens is filtering the sun to capture the sky.
the smoke hangs hazy
people toss their hair
the distortion! ah noise
we hold our drinks as we punch the air
the band is playing
she's up against the wall
she's kissing the band boy
his skin and all.
girl - she's explicit.
boys, illicit.
have your fun.drink up drink it all.
forget where you are
go home in a taxi.
don't worry that he saw you
don't mind he's there
you've got your fame
your malboro/fedora
your next day press
you light up another, because you dare.
we, kings.
we are revolutionists.
we,
boys in bands and smokes and things
me, i am kneeling at an angle
knees in the dirt, wide angle, wide!
the lens is filtering the sun to capture the sky.
the smoke hangs hazy
people toss their hair
the distortion! ah noise
we hold our drinks as we punch the air
the band is playing
she's up against the wall
she's kissing the band boy
his skin and all.
girl - she's explicit.
boys, illicit.
have your fun.drink up drink it all.
forget where you are
go home in a taxi.
don't worry that he saw you
don't mind he's there
you've got your fame
your malboro/fedora
your next day press
you light up another, because you dare.
get chewin'
just found 'chew magazine,' an online glossy magazine for the new generation? hey, this might be a way to finally get myself published. now i must think of an appropriate contribution without coming across as though i were trying too hard.
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