thelostgirlplaybook.blogspot.com

the lost girl.

Monday, 24 June 2013. I haven't been able to tell you this till now. When I get sad, I go to the sea. It's like going to hear an orchestra or a piece of music that you love. Standing there, on the shore, my feelings are transferred onto the musical sea. The waves crash against the rocks and I can feel the crescendo hatred leaking through my bones. (I hate you, I really, really hate you.). I stepped inside to see who was at home. The first room was the kitchen, or rather, the devastation of one. At fi...

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the lost girl. | thelostgirlplaybook.blogspot.com Reviews

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Monday, 24 June 2013. I haven't been able to tell you this till now. When I get sad, I go to the sea. It's like going to hear an orchestra or a piece of music that you love. Standing there, on the shore, my feelings are transferred onto the musical sea. The waves crash against the rocks and I can feel the crescendo hatred leaking through my bones. (I hate you, I really, really hate you.). I stepped inside to see who was at home. The first room was the kitchen, or rather, the devastation of one. At fi...

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the lost girl. | thelostgirlplaybook.blogspot.com Reviews

https://thelostgirlplaybook.blogspot.com

Monday, 24 June 2013. I haven't been able to tell you this till now. When I get sad, I go to the sea. It's like going to hear an orchestra or a piece of music that you love. Standing there, on the shore, my feelings are transferred onto the musical sea. The waves crash against the rocks and I can feel the crescendo hatred leaking through my bones. (I hate you, I really, really hate you.). I stepped inside to see who was at home. The first room was the kitchen, or rather, the devastation of one. At fi...

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thelostgirlplaybook.blogspot.com

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the lost girl.: June 2013

http://thelostgirlplaybook.blogspot.com/2013_06_01_archive.html

Monday, 24 June 2013. I haven't been able to tell you this till now. When I get sad, I go to the sea. It's like going to hear an orchestra or a piece of music that you love. Standing there, on the shore, my feelings are transferred onto the musical sea. The waves crash against the rocks and I can feel the crescendo hatred leaking through my bones. (I hate you, I really, really hate you.). I stepped inside to see who was at home. The first room was the kitchen, or rather, the devastation of one. At fi...

2

the lost girl.: A pair of blue eyes.

http://thelostgirlplaybook.blogspot.com/2013/06/a-pair-of-blue-eyes.html

Monday, 24 June 2013. A pair of blue eyes. He tells me things in such pretty ways that I long to believe him. He says that I am the light of his life and he writes words down on paper to remind me of it. Everyone else seems paralysed in comparison to him but I've known from the start, he is telling my feather like lies. We are so different, the two of us. Yet both of us have become so entwined and tangled in each other's branches that a forest could grow up from what we have created. A pair of blue eyes.

3

the lost girl.: March 2013

http://thelostgirlplaybook.blogspot.com/2013_03_01_archive.html

Sunday, 24 March 2013. These are all the things I could never say-. Paint me. Take out you artist’s tools and your butterfly mind and paint what you see. Paint what you see that no one else sees. Hang me up in one of those galleries so that when I am dead, they will come and look at me. They will see my maiden visage, my plume, the slope of my breast and the Renaissance skin. I want them to see me the way you do. They won’t take notice of the details which first caused you to love me. You were a raconteur.

4

the lost girl.: Short lesson from a Swan.

http://thelostgirlplaybook.blogspot.com/2013/04/short-lesson-from-swan.html

Thursday, 25 April 2013. Short lesson from a Swan. Why do have to continually move from lover to lover, place to place. Can’t I be like the swan? I thought a lot about that. In the Bible, God commanded Adam to leave his father and mother and cleave unto his wife. But now there is no leaving and cleaving. It is the reverse, we cleave and then we leave. We hold onto someone and then they leave us. But I don’t mind. Anything to keep this wretched inner voice quiet. God, life is loneliness.

5

the lost girl.: Nothing but room for you.

http://thelostgirlplaybook.blogspot.com/2013/04/nothing-but-room-for-you.html

Saturday, 20 April 2013. Nothing but room for you. We’d been apart so long - I’d been dead so long,” she said in English. “I thought surely you’d built a new life, with no room in it for me. I’d hoped that.”. 8220;My life is nothing but room for you.” I said. “It could never be filled by anyone but you. ". Mother Night by Kurt Vonnegut. Posted by A girl mad as birds. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). Short lesson from a Swan. Nothing but room for you. Simple theme. Powered by Blogger.

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the lost girl.

Monday, 24 June 2013. I haven't been able to tell you this till now. When I get sad, I go to the sea. It's like going to hear an orchestra or a piece of music that you love. Standing there, on the shore, my feelings are transferred onto the musical sea. The waves crash against the rocks and I can feel the crescendo hatred leaking through my bones. (I hate you, I really, really hate you.). I stepped inside to see who was at home. The first room was the kitchen, or rather, the devastation of one. At fi...

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