My Morning Jacket // Wordless Chorus

How come musicians are some of the worst dancers? They create the entire show. Actors and actresses in costumes pretending to move that way naturally. It seems a little forced considering no one who warrants attention actually seeks it. It’s just a natural phasing.

And why are we awkwardly linked to people we accidentally become best friends with. Like hey! It’s orientation week and I have no friends, so I’ll cling to you because you also are friendless. Then we pair off inseparably for a two week span before finding our more realistic click, trying hard to forget the former bond just to erase the embarrassment.

Too many people I do this one too. I’ll figure them all out before actually meeting them – see them around, listen to them speak while in the same class, trying to not look in their emerald eyes when I see them in person even though I’ve seen like ten-thousand pictures on my computer. It’s weird how we live. Because then you meet these enigmas in real-life and they usually sort of suck. But it’s hard to really forgive yourself for thinking they were something greater than their reality.

Sometimes I think about why I like lace too. Lace feels best on my breasts. Every slight movement in lace makes for a caressing, faint massage. Especially in sensitive regions, it can be quite pleasurable. I like to dress up for myself sometimes. Wear my raciest underwear to a mundane work day, sometimes even to the gym. I like pretending I’m a lot of things, but maybe I need to start understanding that I’m not playing house – maybe this is my real life and my real mannerisms.

I once saw a video of myself and it was at first intimidating because I was talking to a fake audience at my camera. But I kept replaying the video because I really liked dissecting my lips and my decanting slur that I realized, maybe I just like myself.

And I do. Enough to know when to give what you are given. Thus, cleaning out a rusted refrigerator, sharing the dinner I then made, while beforehand, smoking up my roommates. Something had to give, and it was me.

Feel good always even if you’re chorus isn’t as wordless but as pointless as can be. At least you’re free.

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Sleeping Lessons // The Shins

I’d give anything to be riding with the windows down in Lauren’s old SUV up the hill on our way to Rich’s pond.

It was the summer of 2006 and the only direction we had was to just go. We were 18 and undeniable reckless. The back of her trunk was filled with clear, unmarked liquor bottles that were bought from some seedy New Jersey hook-up because our fake ID’s only worked for getting into bars. We’d wake up in some random bed to one of our phones ringing telling us the plans for the day. It was either swimming at some water hole in Noxen where people roamed the streets with several missing teeth, going to the drive-in with a couch and a keg in the back of J’s truck, wading in the lake from being abandoned and left for dead in the middle of the water because we had a distracted jet-ski driver, and always spending the rest of the night partying at the pond with a campfire and the moon as our only light.

This was the summer I broke up with my high school boyfriend and decided to not make plans. Lauren and I instantly gravitated towards each other because the only agenda we had was to laugh our entire day away. We’d drink beer and bbq, suntan in our dirty bikinis that we had been living in, ride quads and motorcycles with no helmets simply because we didn’t think of putting them on, do back-flips off docks while midnight, naked swimming, while drinking moonshine right out of old mason jars. It was bliss in every way you could imagine the word.

I kissed enough girls and guys that summer to count myself as a seasoned pro. I swam in dirty ponds that permanently browned my skin. My liver was shot but I was 18 and easily flexed back. I thank my strong sense of drinking even to this day on that summer because I taught my body to accept the life I was currently throwing it into. I wanted to be free by having no cares, so I found this sort of love in hot-tubs and pools, queen beds and bathrooms. It was all the same. A fast-paced blur of hot sun and breezy nights, tight skin surrounding my cheeks and stomach muscles in pain from laughing.

My current world can be found on the 7th floor in a Manhattan suite. I am surrounded by chairs and people talking incessantly on phones. There are no dull moments in my day but there is a constant hunger for something that is more carefree. I hope I can live off of pennies so that I can take a year off and go live at the beach or in some podunk town where I’ll be able to get my skin wet and glistening with spring water while getting a nice, easy high for days on end. And I hope my wish comes true with an added bonus of a close friend or lover to join me on another one of my great adventures.

I can’t sit still for any amount of time… I guess it’s my Achilles’ Heal.

Born To Die // Lana Del Rey

Lana Del Rey.

Where your voice takes me is somewhere in a field of sunflowers running barefoot and blindly. The air is soft and my mind is in the heavens spinning in figure 8’s. I’m dying in pleasure. Every fiber of my skin tingles with thousands of nerve-endings working overtime. Buzzing, waving, swimming around in my veins are bursts of colors and radiations that only my eyes and his can see. We are lost in this eternal field, abandoned only to the bliss of this exact moment. Each second is ten-thousand rainstorms sizzling hot pavement with puddles cooling the skin of our feet. He brushes my shoulder with his finger and as soon as he leaves I go into withdrawl.

How can I live here forever I wonder. I don’t want to go but the moon is knocking on sky’s door asking to be let in, if only for a peak. I love the moon too!  but I want this day to mark the calendar every year. So I keep running with the air as my sleigh into the forbidden saga that has become my effervescent mind.

I once was called out for my philosophical questions. These thoughts were too outlandish for him. I liked him too much to tell him that that one sentence forever contaminated the secret garden I had been tending to so he didn’t have to leave. But my daydreams were starting to corrupt my reality and I had to cease all measures before they escaped forever. So as he questioned my overextended thoughts I swallowed it as a blessing for still loving him through and through.

Home Again // The Disco Biscuits

I am a bird bound to nothing but the sky itself. Life can be heavy when it should be light. Is this philosophy? Or am I just floating..

I never question my confidence anymore, nor do I think anyone should. When you recognize how beautiful you are, your soul frees itself from any barriers or inhibitions. We are all just stardust. It’s so simple that we try and rationalize it with confusion and mystery. It’s life. Glorious each wayward day, yet mad for it’s own existence.

When I get low, like, lower than one should ever get, I remind myself of the way I can make people laugh from deep in their bellies. What my memories are made of is like a scrapbook with all the remnants of Neverland.

I’ve traveled all over this beautiful country building fires on top of volcanoes while sleeping next to craters formed by explosions from our ancient sky. I drank whiskey til my eyes watered while attempting to chop kindle. The soles of my feet are weathered and blackened from walking barefoot in every direction: winter, spring, summer and fall. My eyes have seen the bluest waters known to man where I’ve dunked my head deep in it’s salt and tried to imagine breathing. I’ve climbed mountains and swallowed the cleanest air, while having surfed both of our sibling oceans at each coast. Summer nights are like a dream; never enough hours even when my eyes have wanted to fall out of my head.

Moonshine is a thing of my past, present, and future. Seeing live shows while running through the crowd on Mollie makes me believe the night is my playground. Sprinting from rooftop to rooftop while lalala’ing is a constant source of enlightenment. I curse the wind when it bites me, but never when a man does. My home is where I laugh the most, where my brain is expanded, where everything out of sorts just falls into place. Sometimes it’s just for a night, sometimes it’s at the base of a waterfall, and sometimes it’s when I’m naked on my back trying not to think about the rising sun.

Glorious times call for glorious measures. I will take anyone under my wing who never wants to miss a moment, and I welcome the unbound to hunt me down. I love life and all of the ups and downs, but more the ups because I like jumping from stars to planets and never having to swallow the You Missed Out pill.

One thing’s for sure. I’ll make you cringe from exhaustion, make you multiply all the energy you have into bundles of tens, make you hit and punch walls from frustration, and make you curse from pleasure right when you can’t handle anymore. This I can promise, but I swear that it will be worth your while.

Call it what it is, I’m not excusing my behavior ever again.

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