thegirlleastlikely

after perusing the entire palahnuik catalouge i have finally discovered that panic at the disco wrote none of their songs, i had oriogionally assumed that they had borrewed a couple of lines but was most dissapointed to be proved wrong

chuck did it for them

lets hope their new stuff is actually somewhat origional, shame on you ryden

There's strings attached to every single lover
And they still can't even tether us together
But I don't think we'd have it any other way
We're neither clear nor descript
And I don't know if you've realised this,
But we live for the cryptic
We breathe for the invisible ink
And we die for the differences
Fuck the fear of the unknown

ive been here for over a week adn ive decided i like it

and i realise that there are far too many chicks with black hair, straight cut fringes and hair extensions out there. they love hello kitty, gloomybear and dark eye make up. obsession with mcr is optional

no offense to all those pretty girlies but how is it non-conformist when you all try to be different exactly the same way?

 

Where you're supposed to be is some empty expanse
A wild ocean, a worldless void
This is called scene setting: where everybody is, who's alive, who's dead
I stand on the deck of a beautiful ship
Singular in form, but not caring
I stare into the sky in the hopes of an epiphany
But only a clouded numbness bounces back
And in the centre of view; a magnolia star
A familiar face... I'd never seen before
The water lapped at my feet
This ship, my ship was dissolving into the expanse
I climb the mast to give one final gaze upon the world I'll leave behind
And as I look down to view the depth to which I must surely plunge
Tiny bundles of light float upward
Absorbing their importance I realise...
Ever get that sinking feeling?
Fear sinks back within, encroached by the heart of this light
But the intensity pushes on past me
Arms of white-hot lapels sliding towards the burning mass
And suddenly water and star collide
My lifeless body hangs, preserved for morbid posterity
In this tangled mess of everything
Earth, air, fire, water and ether

What a week! Actually, not really, it has been as normal as most other weeks, apart from the fact that I now officially have dark hair, and people have generally stopped not recognising me/having heart attacks/cracking out the lesbian jokes (I say in general to that one. Samual, you have been warned. It is so easy to spike a coffee...). Musings this week are on a fairly cliched subject, so excuse the rantings, and try and find the small nuggesty, youghurt-covered sultanas of truth in the following passage...

trains, trains, trains

they're very useful things,

if we didn't have trains, what would we use

to torture people in?

Needless to say, judging by yet more bad poetry (am i making this a habit? Perhaps I need to whisk myself away to the bush for some writer's R and R and rrrrr) I am not a fan of trains. I have nothing against them in general, they are rather lovable in a steel box with killer wheels kind of way. The seats are often squishy, if you're lucky some kindly passanger might leave you a newspaper, they have great acoustics perfectly suited to having intimate conversations which the ENTIRE CARRAIGE hears. Some under-12 will always have their iPods on to volume 13, so that not only can you hear every syllable of their music, you can actually feel the bass line running down into your shoes. And WHY WHY WHY is it never good music? The melody seems to consists of 'la la lala la la' and above that the most you can hear is a kind of muffled thumping (similar to beating a sponge against a car window) that, I suppose, resembles some sort of beat. Occasionally you might happen to catch such orginal rhyming lyrics as 'heart/apart' 'night/light' 'me/be' and 'antangonistic/buttwipe'. Such is the musical offering on the train, I'm suprised I don't dance.

Worst of all, there is always a nutter on the train. To this hallowed subject I can only offer the immortal musings of Dave Callan:

"Hello! Do you like pillows? I do coz I'm not allowed anything hard!"

Postnote: The nutter is clearly not me. I protest against down filled fabric sacks of any kind.

I got lost in the National Gallery looking for a map. Has anybody else noticed that it resembles a labyrinth? I could've sworn I saw some hapless European tourists wandering around in circles, dazed and confused by the distinct lack of artwork in the bathrooms or on the floor. One can imagine that they get trapped in there for months with only the moderately overpriced café items to feed them. I reckon they release a dinosaur once a month to eat the slow ones. Albeit, in a very tasteful and arty way.

I like interesting people. I like to be interesting. I like people who pretend to be interesting but are actually boring. I like people who are actually interesting but pretend to be boring. In general, I like people. And beanbags

Good as hell day

 

Right now I love:

 Buzznet for all my popnews

Pizza fish in questionable liquids

Kinder suprises

Red hooker heels

Cool album art with hidey holes

Random American internet friends

La ink

Krispy creams

Half a dozen red roses that my parents sent me

Mail

Sausage dog puppies

Cupcakes with evil centres

And tmnt vintage t's

 

 

Fangs up peoples

Come to soundwaves with me

Your cynicism cracks my windshield

Pulled down the window

To feel the earth

Its funny where you find yourself

Imprinted on roadsides

Conjured from the city lights

The cold gets in, the things you wear

So good its that time again

hi new to this, names ali

this is what im thinking right now

my ipod is dead and i cant live or sleep properly without the music, need to scam a new one

seriously sleeping like 13 hour nights cause theirs nothing better to do..:

new cobra starship album is funky, not exactly a masterpiece (although what the hell is these days) but it has its moments

kiss my sass should be rocking loud out the windows of everyone's cars

started getting into l.a ink and all those American cult shows, I love kat von d, i want her to be my pirate captain

maths im working hard on, shaping up for a 90% or above mark cause you know I'm a perfectionist

hahah worst subject out of all of them and im expecting an A

im stupid like that sometimes

relationships are overrated, nobody wants to be tied down and I think far too much for my own good

I need a job or another exhibition

Stupid sis art thing, my work shoved away up high under horrible light, me and christina following the waitress roundcasue she has the only food that dosent smell funny

Cant wait for summer, schoolies, friends, new hair (promise it'll be like a rainbow) and repaying all that I owe

And I cant wait for rmit to tell me I got accepted, cause if I know myself I wont be comfortable until I have a home

Lets go crazy, I wanna fly to America, to England, to Paris

Somewhere where I can be just like everyone else

But im not

Or I am

Aren't we all the same?