The Bet, by Anton Chekhov →
classicreader.com
One of my favourite short stories.
July 2010
Song for a Lover of Long Ago
DeYarmond Edison
Song for a Lover a Long Time Ago - DeYarmond Edison
Rain, sound the alarm
The sting of my broken arm
There’s a famous violinist buried in my gut
There are chances and choices, some people you just have to cutI have buried you
Every place I’ve been
You keep ending up
In my shaking hands
aww, i miss your pretty face as your avatar.
(i am super creepy but i don't care)
Okay, I’ve been needing to get this out there for awhile but you are one of my most sweetest and definitely the most perceptive follower I have. It’s been frustrating for me that I haven’t followed you since day one.
Oh! I had changed it because I was planning on changing my tumblr layout, and nearly always change both simultaneously.. so I found this photo, and then realised that most of the new themes are just rehashed older ones I’ve used before anyway. As for the photo, it was nearly two years old I’m afraid- with the apparent lapse of social networking and some kind of growth in my maturity levels (I think) this has now meant that outside of gpoy or embarrassing fb tagged photos there isn’t that many recent shots of me around. But I like this one because it shows my epic watch tan-line (which is still existant in the middle of winter) so there you go.
Thankyou again for being so sweet, and I’m hoping you’re well.
Listen
We Were Promised Jetpacks, Conductor
“Don’t squander the gold of your days, listening to the tedious, trying to improve the hopeless failure, or giving away your life to the ignorant, the common and the vulgar. These are the sickly aims, the false ideals, of our age. Live! Live the wonderful life that is in you! Let nothing be lost upon you. Be always searching for new sensations. Be afraid of nothing.”
—Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray
“In each of us lie good and bad, light and dark, art and pain, choice and regret, cruelty and sacrifice. We’re each of us our own chiaroscuro, our own bit of illusion fighting to emerge into something solid, something real. We’ve got to forgive ourselves that. I must remember to forgive myself. Because there is a lot of grey to work with. No one can live in the light all the time.”
—Libba Bray
Listen
Cut Copy — Where I’m Going
Listen
oldfilmsflicker:ohsara:-unwantedclemency:vrindasyndrome:h3ggs:
Radiohead | How to Disappear Completely
Strobe lights and blown speakers
Fireworks and hurricanes
I’m not here
This isn’t happening
I’m not here
I’m not here
