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sometimes a girl can be an amazing stimulant


For a certain Aussie Lolita....

Uh Huh Her: Say So ]

You say that you're broken
I just want to fix you
Tell me what to do, baby I will listen


looking like she wants to wants to please
Do you think she likes it

Muse: Undisclosed Desires.live ]

I want to reconcile the violence in your heart

[ U2: Babyface ]

Slow down child, let me untie your lace.

[ ANI DIFRANCO: Untouchable.live ]

So fuck you
And your untouchable face
Tell you the truth I prefer the worst of you 

[ GARBAGE: Can't Cry These Tears ]

I just don't care anymore
Won't cry these tears anymore

 Photo Baby Girl Heart 

being nonsense from an insignificant reclusive blogger


Dear You,

My fight with Anhedonia rages on. I win skirmishes but it wins battles. I keep waiting for a reversal, for my brain to give itself completely to the pleasure principle. 

It gets harder and harder to engage my mind in inspiration. The future of my blog is quite uncertain. Trying to make it to 10 years.

My Muse owes me a picture of her in a My Little Pony onesie. This will make me laugh and cheer me up. Anyone who has the ability to cheer me up is utterly important. Be glad she exist since this blog would have died last year if it wasn't for her.

Random Facts
- Turn On: Tartan Skirts
- Turn On: Lip biting
- Turn Off: Any chick over 21 with a Tumblr.   
- Turn Off: A Narcissisitic woman who is also a snob about any subject ( but Especially Books & Music )

‘You’ll never be a writer.’

Nationality: without. Eyes: grey.

‘Mr. Nabokov, I want to be a writer.’ Nabokov looks up from his reading and points to a tree outside his office window.

‘What kind of tree is that?’ he asks the student.


‘What is the name of that tree?’ asks Nabokov. ‘The one outside my window.’

‘I don’t know,’ says the student.

‘You’ll never be a writer.’ says Nabokov.

 kinbote / wordmeds 

the first kickstarter I'm participating in

Screen Shot 2013-04-19 at 8.39.44 PM

I wish i could afford the level that lets me ask for a cover song. At the first Eisley concert I went to Stacy played a few bars of Radiohead's "everthing in its right place" and ever since I've had the idea that they could do a pretty cool version of "Karma Police". I want the Past Demos release b/c I'm really hoping it includes a newer studio version of "Blackened Crown".


You have no perspective, no emotional reserves, no faith that it will get better

Depression is humiliating. It turns intelligent, kind people into zombies who can’t wash a dish or change their socks. It affects the ability to think clearly, to feel anything, to ascribe value to your children, your lifelong passions, your relative good fortune. It scoops out your normal healthy ability to cope with bad days and bad news, and replaces it with an unrecognizable sludge that finds no pleasure, no delight, no point in anything outside of bed. You alienate your friends because you can’t comport yourself socially, you risk your job because you can’t concentrate, you live in moderate squalor because you have no energy to stand up, let alone take out the garbage. You become pathetic and you know it. And you have no capacity to stop the downward plunge. You have no perspective, no emotional reserves, no faith that it will get better. So you feel guilty and ashamed of your inability to deal with life like a regular human, which exacerbates the depression and the isolation. If you’ve never been depressed, thank your lucky stars and back off the folks who take a pill so they can make eye contact with the grocery store cashier. No one on earth would choose the nightmare of depression over an averagely turbulent normal life. It’s not an incapacity to cope with day to day living in the modern world. It’s an incapacity to function. At all. If you and your loved ones have been spared, every blessing to you. If depression has taken root in you or your loved ones, every blessing to you, too. No one chooses it. No one deserves it. It runs in families, it ruins families. You cannot imagine what it takes to feign normalcy, to show up to work, to make a dentist appointment, to pay bills, to walk your dog, to return library books on time, to keep enough toilet paper on hand, when you are exerting most of your capacity on trying not to kill yourself. Depression is real. Just because you’ve never had it doesn’t make it imaginary. Compassion is also real. And a depressed person may cling desperately to it until they are out of the woods and they may remember your compassion for the rest of their lives as a force greater than their depression. Have a heart. Judge not lest yet be judge
neo hedonism