“ Once upon a time there was a boy who lived in a house across from a girl who no longer exists. They made up a thousand games. She was Queen and he was King. In the autumn light, her hair shown like a crown. They collected the world in small handfuls. When the sky grew dark they parted with leaves in their hair.
They sing, raindrops falling on my head
My head hurts…like someone’s taking my brain in their hands and clenching it between their fingers.
I feel like everything I write sounds…off. Like I can’t find the right words to express anything.
I’m still in shock about Heath Ledger’s death. I believe one of my first entries in this was about him, actually. It’s funny, just last night I included him in a list of actors of which I like pretty much any movie they’re in. I had no idea today he would no longer be here.
Strange. Today was strange. Life is strange.
Someday I’d like to have my own place, with a big, beautiful white grand piano in the middle of the dining room, even though I don’t play.
I want a house that is almost entirely hardwood floors, that has windows placed strategically so the sunlight hits my room in just the right way, so I can wake up to soft yellow light and feel the wind on my feet.
But what I want the most is someone to share it with. Someone to play the piano, someone who sings old songs, someone who will wake up with me and just lay there for a while before he makes his morning coffee.
I’m getting tired of being alone.
“ So I wrote a second book, and I made up everything. I filled it with men who grew wings, and trees with their roots growing into the sky, people who forgot their own names and people who couldn’t forget anything; I even made up words. When it was finished I ran all the way to her house.
unknown quotients, you must be using potions
how else could you tie my head to the sky?
this new convection has left no wondering why
i can’t concern myself with ordinary tripe
like what’s this morning’s paper got to say
and which brand of coffee to make
“ I said, “Is it good, friend?”
“It is bitter – bitter”, he answered,
“But I like it
Because it is bitter,
And because it is my heart.
“It is bitter – bitter”, he answered,
“But I like it
Because it is bitter,
And because it is my heart.
Their entire teenage years were full of loving one another. When they were children, the stale taste of paper on their tongues, they didn’t realize how their lives were going to change.
I might kiss you on the back of your neck
Because it’s Christmas time
Goodness gracious gosh golly gah.
Marry me already, Sufjan.
“ Ring them bells, ye heathen
From the city that dreams,
Ring them bells from the sanctuaries
Cross the valleys and streams,
For they’re deep and they’re wide
And the world’s on its side
And time is running backwards
And so is the bride.
From the city that dreams,
Ring them bells from the sanctuaries
Cross the valleys and streams,
For they’re deep and they’re wide
And the world’s on its side
And time is running backwards
And so is the bride.
