If you can't be a good example, you've an obligation to be a horrible warning.

But, no seriously, I'm so freaking tired of being lonely.


Annd, so it's not just a lame entry:


50+ new photos added to the flickr.
(No color adjusting.)

Danish 8-piece band that is so incredibly ambient and beautiful that I cannot get enough.
This song is called Byen Driver (which translates to The City Flows).

I've grown a little less fond of this state since everything fun to do has ended until Regatta.
Case in point, the most exciting part of my day was when Brittany and I were on the never-ending search for water for mom in St. Albans, and we saw a large crowd of kids at the Brick House. So, we decided to drive on through and see if we recognized anyone of consequence. Of course not - everyone there was probably barely sixteen, so we [read: I] decided to have some fun and scream loudly as possible and plow right through a mob of bad dye-jobs, tight pants, and distasteful piercings. It was great fun for about thirty seconds. The terror in their can't-even-buy-cigarettes-but-I-still-smoke eyes. Oh, how I love how relentless the Tank appears to be. (I rest my case.)


Actually, now that I think about it... that was a pretty awesome idea.
Makes me feel old, though.

I've got nothing to worry about, so I worry about nothing. I think I've got fleas, or some tropical disease; my spider sense is tingling.

Great friends. Old friends. New friends. Rubber Soul. Ryan Hardiman. Camera. Ganja. And not staying home at all.





Want moar? Go here.

And now, I am eating cake. This is the good life.

Anything and everything I could ever ask of music.

It was a wonderful time, sad you missed it.

Headlights race towards the corner of the dining room,
Half illuminate a face before they disappear.
You breathe in forty years of failing to describe a feeling;
I breathe out smoke against the window, trace the letters in your name.
Our letters sound the same - full of all our changing that isn't change at all,
All straight lines circle sometime.
You said "Somewhere there's a box full of replacement parts,
To all the tenderness we've broken or let rust away.
Somewhere sympathy is more than just a way of leaving,
Somewhere someone says 'I'm sorry,'
Someone's making plans to stay."
So tell me it's okay. Tell me anything,
Or show me there's a pull, unassailable, that will lead you there,
From the dark, alone, benevolence that you've never known,
Or you knew when you were four and can't remember.
Where a small knife tears out those sloppy seams,
And the silence knows what you silence means,
And your metaphors (as mixed as you can make them) are linked, like days, together.
I still hear trains at night, when the wind is right.
I remember everything, lick and thread this string that will never mend you,
Or tailor more than a memory of a kitchen floor,
Or the fire-door that we kept propping open.
And I love this place; the enormous sky, and the faces, hands that I'm haunted by.
So, why can't I forgive these buildings, these frameworks labeled "Home"?

... I'm addicted to video editing. No lie.
I'm also wearing the cutest panties ever. Again, no lie.

Apparently the cool "vlog" thing to do is to post videos of yourself putting on your daily routine of make up. Twist! It's normally sped up twenty times.

I am left thinking: I must be out of the girly-loop because these girls must spend at least thirty minutes putting on their makeup. Complete with concealer, liquid foundation, powder foundation, brow shadow (that's the stuff where girls make their eyebrows fuller), three types of eye shadow, eye liner, blush, mascara, lip tint, gloss, and I'm sure an infiniteless variety of products that I'm not entirely sure of.

Me? I spend maybe three minutes putting on tinted moisterizer, concealer, powder, liner (on a good day) and mascara [please note I've been up for almost three days; my appearance has gone to shit]:

Despite the circumstances, Megan's "y so srs" Moses was one of the things that made everything feel lighter.

Bluebird will be okay, <3.

Radiohead's vinyl Kid A album helps.

Lovebird has been...

Vegetarian for 236 days.
Single for 180 days.
Sexless for 75 days.
A redhead for 7 days.




Jack Johnson "Girl I Wanna Lay You Down". Live rip of Kokua 08 Festival.




Also, George Carlin? NO. Absolutely not Mr. Conductor!~

I don't know myself anymore.



That is what Lovebird loves most about life.
Being high for the first time in months in the forest.
Seeing everything for what it's worth.
This is love, in Lovebird's eye.

http://www.dhmo.org/

You're addicted to Dihydrogen Monoxide and you don't even know it. o.O

Cool!

"Flames" by VAST.




Lovebird can't even stay committed to a LiveJournal entry for longer than six hours. Rawr.

Lovebird is trying to save a distressed friend, take down a small business, save the world and keep herself mentally stable all simultaneously. Can she do it?



Lovebird and Birdy are officially inked twice.

Lovebird also enjoyed flapping her wings freely with her favorite Birdy.
And seeing her beautiful Bluebird's new nest while talking about ugly crows, beautiful falcons and our mating rituals with these minuscule crows and large falcons.

Lovebird is thinking that she is terribly desperate to mate again. She wants to fall in love with a lovebird like herself, not a crow or falcon. But, alas, a lovebird with the mindset as her. Wings as long and beautiful as her own. But, she fears she will be unable to find this desire in a coop as small as her home state.

She is mildly distressed about ever letting that beautiful bird she calls a Sparrow fly away from her. He may have not been quite as colorful and bright as she, but he definitely had soft feathers and provided her with a warm nest far from here.

Lovebird hates to say this, but her once favorite little Hummingbird is not a hummingbird at all. But, the blackest of crows in disguise as a hummingbird. It really still fucking hurts. Especially to see this little bird be so fragile. She wants to help her, but she doesn't recognize how. Not with all the hurt inside of her that has built up over the past four months. Lovebird really tried to be there for her little Hummingbird whenever she needed. But, slowly this Hummingbird went through a great metamorphosis and never reciprocated the support and love the Lovebird gave her. I really hope the Hummingbird breaks free of this black crow body that has engulfed her...

Lovebird wants to fix everything, however cannot fix something she did not break herself.

I thought my wings could hold me up with angels...