glory! : elvis lana unchained melody argh!

washer

Goodnight my love Remember me as you fall to sleep Fill your pockets with the dust and the memories That rises from the shoes on my feet I won't be back here Though we may meet again I know it's dark outside Don't be afraid Everytime I ever cried from fear Was just a mistake that I made Wash yourself in your tears And build your church On the strength of your faith Please Listen to me Don't let go Don't let this desperate moonlight leave me With your empty pillow Promise me the sun will rise again I too am tired now Embracing thoughts of tonight's dreamless sleep My head is empty My toes are warm I am safe from harm...

Monday, December 4, 2023

elvis lana unchained melody argh!

i may be stupid. im getting a new one. ive meditated on the placements i can get away with. a heartagram probably. i want to get a fleur de lis and a pentagram soon, and a lower back later on when i have the money to get it done.

i tried weed the other day and genuinely felt nothing. maybe because i was drunk. i love alcohol. it makes the cold i feel in my bones swell down. my body is warm and im sedated lightly, like taking an anti inflammatory for throat pain. it eases my stomach pains and my head pains and my cold. its fun.

ive been watching elvis last performance. unchained melody. it breaks me. lana del rey, my favorite artist from when i was younger, did a cover recently. it was absolutely beautiful. nothing like her voice. she will go on to be one of the world most important artists of our generation. but man, the elvis cover. its like he knew.

elvis

its heartbreaking. its so sad. lanas voice is like heaven. i remember when lust for life came out. it changed my life. so did nfr. nowadays i barely listen to anything other than maybe chemtrails over the country club, text book, maybe born to die. for the nostalgia.

gottamn

No comments:

Post a Comment

sylvia plath, the bell jar

I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn't quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.

Psalm 18: 6-11

In my distress I called upon the Lord, And cried out to my God; He heard my voice from His temple, And my cry came before Him, even to His ears. Then the earth shook and trembled; The foundations of the hills also quaked and were shaken, Because He was angry. Smoke went up from His nostrils, And devouring fire from His mouth; Coals were kindled by it. He bowed the heavens also, and came down With darkness under His feet. And He rode upon a cherub, and flew; He flew upon the wings of the wind. He made darkness His secret place; His canopy around Him was dark waters And thick clouds of the skies.