misc ; trust me.

(no subject)

death eaters > so sinister

grounds for divorce - elbow
there's a hole in my neighborhood
down which of late I cannot help but fall

ulysses - franz ferdinand
so sinister, so sinister,
last night was wild.
what’s the matter there, feeling kind of anxious?
feeling that hot blood grow cold?

eyes on fire - blue foundation
I won’t soothe your pain
I won’t ease your strain
you’ll be waiting in vain
I got nothing for you to gain

master & servant - nouvelle vague
you treat me like a dog,
get me down on my knees
we call it master and servant

I would hurt a fly - built to spill
I can't get that sound you make out of my head
I can't even figure out what's making it
no one else around even seems to be noticing
it's only small enough for me
there's a mean bone in my body
misc ; trust me.

if you love me, won't you let me know

this journal is locked for now.
**formerly miss_noodles 


contents:
rambles poetry rants musings questions answers & thoughts;
fics & art & drawings & ephemera.

comment to be added, please. I love new friends.
though chances are, if I know you IRL, I won't accept you. sorry.


"the usual charge leveled against comic books, that they offered merely an easy escape from reality, seemed to Joe actually to be a powerful argument on their behalf. He had escaped, in his life, from ropes, chains, boxes, bags, and crates, from handcuffs and shackles, from countries and regimes, from the arms of a woman who loved him, from crashed airplanes and an opiate addiction and from an entire frozen continent intent on causing his death. The escape from reality was, he felt – especially right after the war – a worthy challenge.”