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my applejack, my silent night
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[07 Jun 2020|03:56pm] |
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PLEASE COMMENT IF YOU ARE ADDING ME! IF YOU DO NOT COMMENT AND LET ME KNOW WHO YOU ARE, HOW YOU FOUND ME, AND THAT YOU ARE ADDING ME, I WILL NOT ADD YOU BACK.
i promise i'm nice and not ~elitist about friending people, but if you don't comment, i'm going to assume you're a creep or a perv and refuse to add you.
♥ love,
shannon
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[04 Jan 2009|03:36am] |
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okay, lj . . . i need some help.
post your favorite songs about love!
i'm looking for absolutely anything that you feel is meaningful . . . whether that means classic, old-school love songs or jazz or hip-hop or whatever. i'm looking for new music and i'd like songs about/dealing with love.
bonus points if you can send me the file through yousendit.com or some similar source.
as a gift, here is one of my favorites:
https://www.yousendit.com/download/WnBUTkFrdGpRYThLSkE9PQ
12 hours it takes sometimes, by the reindeer section.
post away!!!! thanks for your help. ♥
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| PUBLIC POST |
[03 Dec 2008|02:49pm] |
hey, guys. . .
i was looking through my friends list and realized that lots of people i didn't know had friended me. if you think we'd have something in common and would like to be friends, that's fabulous!!! just make sure to tell me who you are, how you found me, and that you're adding me. . . or else i won't realize until months later. :P
also, i (sadly) delted folks that were on my friends list but hadn't updated their journals in over a year. if you are one of those people and you suddenly become active again, let me know and i'd be happy to add you back.
basically, it's confusing to look at a friends list of 30-something people when i only really know about half of the listed names.
i'm nice, i promise. come say hi. :)
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[23 Jan 2008|08:59pm] |
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mood |
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 contemplative |
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tell me that one hope, dream, secret or fear that you've never been able to tell anyone else. tell me about the time you cried in the dorm room showers so that nobody would hear, tell me about the time that you snuck out your window and watched the streetlights change at 3 am just to make sure that they still would, tell me how you lost faith in humanity or yourself, tell me how you learned or failed or loved or something in between. tell me without telling me who you are. tell me what you can't tell anyone else; there's something we all want to say but can't let ourselves release.
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| requesting songs. |
[22 Jan 2007|09:31am] |
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mood |
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what are some songs that make you want to dance in your underwear?
songs with good rhythm, songs with movement or energy or drive?
i need some songs with inspiration.
i don't have to know them. they can be as random or obscure as you'd like. just give me titles and bands; i'm making a playlist.
i'm still sick and the doctors have no idea what's wrong with me and i feel miserable. my roommate is out of town, so i'm self-medicating in the best way i know right now: a healthy dose of underwear dancing.
and, friends, it will be your songs that make or break the deal.
thank you for your contributions to my well-being. ♥
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[21 Oct 2005|01:32am] |
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mood |
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i think my writing gets more and more abstract.
~*~
she'd send him red autumn leaves in white paper envelopes, but by the time he opened them, they were thin and dry and the stems would crack. it grew colder every year and her steps were quick to keep her warm and he laughed at her for wearing fuzzy scarves and jeans with ripped knees.
the city called to her at night, or maybe it was him, it was some voice that twisted her sleep and she'd wake up shaking, alone, with nightmares under her breath and mysteries in her tears. the city, that city, their city, she needed it and him and someone to lay down with, because then the dreams didn't seem so real.
"i miss you," she'd say over long-distance phone lines, twirling the cord around her narrow wrist. "can you come home soon?"
soon was never soon enough, and september froze into december and she took long walks at night. she sang to the stars and the tree branches hummed back and the snow under her feet echoed her rhythm. the stitch in her side felt like a part of her breathing, and she liked the sharpness in her lungs.
"just a few more days," he'd always say, and she sat at her window with her legs crossed under her, she sat and she waited and she traced designs on the frost that crept over the glass.
she covered herself in corduroy and promised she was warm, but she wore hats inside and her nose was always red. photography magazines and fashion designs, she saw herself in those girls, knee-high boots and arched eyebrows and elegant grace, she liked the lighting and the poses and the way their eyes spoke when their lips said nothing.
there were bags filled with old newspapers and classified ads, and she'd cut out words with her dull scissors, words like "moment" and "sensation" and "longing." she put them in envelopes along with the first blades of pale green grass, she sent him little promises and small strands of hope, but he was too busy to notice.
he didn't recognize her in the heat of august, when he finally came around. she was taller than he remembered, and skinnier, too, and his arms felt loose as he tried to wrap them around her waist. her sigh was honest and soft as he moved to kiss her and she turned away.
"why?" he asked, and she couldn't meet his gaze.
she'd already given all her words.
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_all_this_love_'s journal