| (no subject) |
[May. 6th, 2007|12:38 am]
dontdieordryup
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tonight my poor country will be on its knees
be nice and pray for us
(high hopes, but low expectations)
xoxo
PS: POR FIN, stroke of clarity, i KNOW who Mika reminds me of. it only just took me 3 months to figure it out.
Ben Stiller in Starsky & Hutch, generally Ben Stiller with his mexican sheep hairdo
yes/yes? |
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| (no subject) |
[Apr. 24th, 2007|10:46 pm]
dontdieordryup
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[on the right is his lovely wife and support act, Bishi}
i cried more when i heard about it than when my rat died three days ago, how low can i sink now
for fuck's sake, paris was so utterly perfect
he was smiling, and talkative as hell
he asked people for request and SANG them
he did fucking sing the CHILDCATCHER
he didnt follow his setlist, he looked so happy,
he took time to sign every single thing, to pose for every picture, he chatted with me for a while even though he looked so tired
HE LOVES DALIDA
i love him |
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| i saved win butler's life. |
[Mar. 12th, 2007|10:45 pm]
dontdieordryup
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| [ | music |
| | patrick wolf - the libertine | ] |
or at least i saved his coccyx for sure. i remember his slippery hand and the possessed look in his eyes. i remember being ewed by his literally swear-soaked body and actually really realised his sweat didnt stink. it was just.. very wet.
gig-wise, the very same part of the very same Tunnels made me cry again. Cry as in, lip shaking and eyes blurred while trying to sing along. and broken voice.
i am, back into my 'tomb', it seems, a tomb high up in the gods, with the hope on my walls. i havent heard the sound of my voice today. i havent unpacked either.
sink sank sunk. slowslowwwwly but surely, i'm being rocked back to sleep
(there everyday was like a friday evening, everyday was a lustfest, everyday was endlesspossibilities)
the strawberry teabag bleeding in my cup is one of my favorite thing on earth. in here. there's just something familiar and safe about it. |
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| "finally, there is clarity..." // {tearjerker} |
[Jan. 30th, 2007|05:20 pm]
dontdieordryup
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i couldnt sleep so i read, and that really made me shiver last night at 3a.m.
enjoy.
(1)
The bus was barely tolerable. Mercifully the journeys between the venues weren’t too long. The only task they relished was the personnal appearances at record stores – a perfect opportunity to make blow-job assignations. They had slipped thoughtlessly into the easy relief of a daily stranger’s mouth sucking their dicks. They just did it. It happened every single day now. The routine, the circumstances never varied. It was life on the road. They’d turn up someplace, the hotel or the venue they were playing, meet some town’s girls, and let them get their cocks out. Record shop Pas were a cert. They couldn’t get enough of them. They were a band, touring, and this had become their normality, young mouths engulfing them in a strange but familiar precinct. Little wonder they could no longer stand each other. They hated themselves.
-------------------------------------------
(2)
It saddened him, still, after all these years to see that hungry appreciation for any little bit of info, anything which set them appart from ordinary fans who knew nothing of their heroes’ day-to-day minutiae – and the desperate alacrity with which they acted upon the crumbs they were thrown. A minute later they were in the distance, arms linked, heads bent slightly forward to get them quicker to their destination.
He watched them go, shaking his head.he knew their MO. He knew what they thought they were getting out of the deal. They felt as though they were living by doing this, following bands and provinding a sexual outlet. They certainly didn’t believe they were being used, deceived or humiliated. It was a laugh. It was better than real life and sex was a mere facilitor, it was a currency, cashed in with the backstage passes James calles ‘blow job vouchers’.
--------------
the last thing i want to be is meaningless. so screw you. (i dont mean it really, but how i wish i did)
oh and. this is for lolz.
http://www.playersandpsychos.com/search/viewSpecific.php?id=465
that's the allen i was refering to, a few entries ago. i was strucked for a while yeah lol. and i still didnt manage to know why he left the band, ffs.
""the first time i saw / you you were sitting backtage in a dress / perfect mess"" |
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| hum |
[Jan. 29th, 2007|09:18 pm]
dontdieordryup
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highly uncontrollable ManWhore crisis, MSN ANYONE? PLEASE?
not to be a dramaqueen or anything (nev3R) but i dont really need that kind of stomach-twisting stress right now.
can anyone hack myspace?
ok now i really have to pee. except that my flatmate & her revolting boyfriend are using the bathroom. that somehow reminds me of some drunken piss-in-the-bottle / miss-the-bottle festival stories.
anyway, my problem, people, please. seriously, if i'm currently listening to coldplay, then it's really THAT bad.
(been checking my profile for the 5th time in a row. to be sure that there's nothing betraying me. you know. *just*in*case*.) |
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| "so is it ok about tomorrow?" "to do what? get laid?" / "i'm not allergic to women.." |
[Oct. 26th, 2006|07:50 pm]
dontdieordryup
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| [ | mood |
| | nostalgic, psycho, slutty | ] |
at night on my way home i walk past that hotel, and twice in a row, when i read "timbre de noche / night bell" my heart skipped a bit & i got the butterflies & flashbacks and uncontrolable rushes of adrenaline, just taking me back three months earlier, and suddenly i'm again in front of that other hotel, with stefanie & flora by my side, and he's ringing the bell, and it seems that no one is answering, and we're tryin to look cool and not too giggle, and he says "well i'm gonna call stef" , and he does calls, and he says "hey stef we're in front of the hotel could you come over to open the front door?" and we girls quickly exchange stunned looks, well just stephanie & i coz flora is just so out of it, she's just accompanying us, she's not starstruck at all, she's probably amusing herself with "where is brian? brian is in the kitchen" in her mind, so yeah we exchange looks and we've got the same look in our eyes, and then superquickly try to act normal, and i remember saying to myself to calm down, coz i was feeling just about to be overwhelmed by a thousand different feelings, by new unknown feelings and so on.
eventually some doorman comes to open we're slightly relieved not to haveto face stef already, and yeah as we follow him down the hall, past the reception, through the lounges, to the hotel bar, i feel dirtier than ever, been waitin in the sun all day long etc, got tar on my trousers,and so on, but all the thoughts are blown away when we get into that narrowish space that the is the bar, when basically everyone turns around, looks at us slightly intrigued & says hi & get back to their business, ten people or so, all males, roadies or idontknowwhat, steve on a bar stool, looking elegantly drunk, raises an eyebrow, exchange a look with him, & smiles at us, us petrified, stef on the phone 2 meters away from us, sleeveless top & tight kakhis & flip-flops, i have to clench my teeth not to let my jaw drop, and the bar is closed sorry we cant get drinks now we're told, so we sit in the lounge by the bar, armchairs & sofas & a lounge table, just him and the three of us, and then he goes to his room to grab booze in the minibar, "what do you want? do you wanna come upstairs with me to choose?" and somehow i manage to say no coz it didnt sound like such a smart idea, so we wait for him and he comes back with wine, and then stef & steve somehow come and sit with us and chat, and i accidentally get a pack of fags in my face, i take my best offended look and he apologises saying "sorry!! i'm not allergic to women" and i wanna hug him right away, he's like 50cm away from me, for two hours, and ohmygod.
and as we leave stef & him walk us back to the front door, and say goodbye, and say see you in nimes (und we did), and kiss us, and we control ourselves a little bit more, and outside we walk quietly for possibly thirty incredibly long seconds and then start semiscreaming and eventually letting go of everything we had been holding inside for the past 4-5 hours.
well. that's what hits me, the memories & the feelings, when i walk past that "timbre de noche" sign at night, usually at 2-3-4a.m. |
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| new slang |
[Jun. 24th, 2006|12:49 pm]
dontdieordryup
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this is so very wrong, i still have a crush on Jonathan Ross.
what is wrong with me seriously. And on Wayne Coyne too, but it's slightly more ok coz he's lush.
yesterday, lazy night, tv, i was alternating between Jon Ross on one channel, live acts with the Flaming Lips / Cat Power on the other, and some random talk show, hosted by Patsy Kensit (yes, that one) with Placebo performing on a third one. Brian asked Patsy (referring to her gallagherish adventures i assume) "how come that frontmen are such good lovers?!" and she replied
"i've heard that drummers were the best".
you go girl.
i'm trying to pack but i'm a mess, it's a mess. dont know what to do. want badly to stay one extra week just to go see M next week end. i cant even write his name, how pathetic is that. i just cant. my fingers wont type it. damn you fingers. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jun. 18th, 2006|04:49 pm]
dontdieordryup
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| [ | mood |
| |  mellow | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Justine - Indochine (waaaai) | ] |
One etait allees voir quoi?
ah oui, bexy stich, la veille j'avais aidé mariane à emmenager chez rob, et noté mentalement le numero de l'appart de DannyLadydtron (on sait jamais..). donc juste toutes les trois, au concert, reperage haha, par hasard, de DannyDennyDenisleServeur, j'etais un peu bourree, debut de chaudechaude, mais pas longtemps - mais je m'arrange pr le croiser, juste, je sais pas trop pourquoi, juste paske i crave attention surement,
apres, je reconnais enfin qui c'est ce gars qui me disait qqchose, j'ai mis vraiment longtemps. je l'ai fixé un moment, me demandant ou est-ce que je l'avais deja vu, je scannais l'egg dans ma tete, les concerts wombats, lipa, des after norvegiennes... j'essaie de croiser son regard, mais aucun signe de reconnaissance, how rude. et puis, ah oui, à la tv ya pas longtemps. ah oui, c'est dave mccabe zutons.
pas lontgemps apres, je vois la plus belle fille du monde, mais vraiment. vraiment, un de ces models russeukrainienpolonais echappée d'un vogue, souffle coupé.
un peu apres, je rentre dans quelqun, et renverse du whisky sur les chaussures de quelquun d'autre, qui est dave zutons, je leve les yeux je glousse et je fuis. apres ca, concert de bexy stich, et un connard vient se mettre pile devant moi, et en fait c'est Reuben le moche de Ladytron, mais fuck c'est pas une raison quoi. meme si le korova lui appartient un tout petit peu.
APres le concert ca se complique, on remonte, la belle c'est la meuf de Reuben le moche, ya peter & Tomlewaiterpunkjunk, on se fait payer a boire, on chatte up le barman joli, chope des badges, retrouve le chat mort qui avait changé de rail, et somehow, avec dennydannybobby & peter on se retrouve au heebeejeebees.
horreur, exactement les memes gens que 15mins avant au korova. La fille bicolore de l'egg, le djeune a chemise a carreau de partout, le meme random gars blond, le meme dave zutons. putain.. on essaie d'eloigner les deux avec nous, on croise Matt-le-sous-CanadianTom, celui qui ressemble à AndyCardboard. les memes gens partout, j'en peux plus.
On danse toutes les trois c'est cool, ya 20th Century Boy, je fais les "aaaaaaaah" du debut avec les mains.
Et puis, simultanement, on se fait aborder par des gars.
enfin, un mec glisse une carte dans la main de caro.
"""CONFIDENTIAL. I would like to sleep with you tonight. If the answer is yes, keep the card and smile. If the answer is no, please return the card as I am running short."""
woah. le truc le plus enorme que j'ai jamais lu. comme fo trop qu'on la reutilise. son pote blond a chapeau me parle : "on est en tournee, on a joue un concert à la Liv Academy ce soir" PUTAIN NON PAS ENCORE QUOI, je sature la. des londoniens, Man Cried Wolf. avec un myspace. et un record label.
si ils se celebritisent comme Orson ca va vraiment m'enerver. Ptetre que je pourrai voler la carte de caro et la vendre sur ebay et me faire un max de thunes. comme avec les trucs de Jamie Reid. cool.
et en meme temps, caro repere avec ses yeux de lynx (haHAhahaaaaaaaaaa) le johnlennonmerseybeatle himself, pas loin de nous, la classe internationallllle, putaaain qu'il est overnain.
sauf que confusion, c'est deux heures, c'est la fin, on nous degage dehors, et simulatement on essaie de communiquer avec le groupe chaud, avec le nain, tout en se faisant ejecter, tout en faisant style on largue pas nos boulets, dehors le nain est chaudchaudbourré, il est avec hiiiii robbie le timidie cutie, celui qui a des yeux morts qui me fait penser a Léo, et le nain est rude avec moi, quelle pute.
Le lendemain c'est mercredi et on recupere, le lendemain du lendemain c'est jeudi et on va au cavern, pour voir comme promis le nain en john lennon. un peu persuadees qu'il aurait abs aucun souvenir de nous.
en fait, si. entre deux sets je le croise, il me parle, il s'excuse, croit qu'il a ete rude, se re-excuse, va me chercher une clope, nous parle, est gentil. Robbie le cutie est pas la. mais l'ingé son est superblond, a me couper le souffle. woah.
......
un jour, deux jours, le dernier jour de caro.
"he wants to take to dinner before you leave..." "...but he's too scared to ask.." la je crois j'ai des yeux ronds et possiblement la bouche qui arrive pas a se refermer, telle l'allegorie de la confusion absolue. "but there'd be no touching... no, no touching..", et c'est la que je fais tomber le joint, je sais pas jcrois que j'ai tressaillé, sursauté, peut etre etouffee. Genre, c'est pas en plus comme si il etait discret quoi, quand il parle. "you know, he can actually look good, when he dresses up.. when he wears a suit.. when he's not dressed like a tramp..". J'allais repondre, "i know i saw him..." et puis j'ai rien dit, parce que j'aurais du dire " i know, i saw him, after your mother's funeral".
bref, putain.
"have you read Justine by Le Marquis de Sade? Because you remind me of Justine.." oui j'ai gloussé discretement et detourné et detourné le regard et aah ca me fait un peu plus peur maintenament que j'ai fait un peu de lecture. "Justine", chanson que j'ecoute a l'instant ""une lueur rouge caresse son corps... ce n'est rien juste qu'une petite mort.."
Il m'a filé un morceau de shit, aussi, qui est pas mauvais aussi, et il m'intrigue, aussi, j'aimerai bien savoir cmt il est, sobre. si il l'es jamais, sobre. gollum.
"but all the french people are not alocoholics." hahhaaaa Mariane elle fucking rules, how rude, je l'imagine tellement lui dire ca, avec toute la secheté & le mepris du monde dans la voix. <3
je sais pas quand je pars, peut etre un matin, en voleuse, comme ca, histoire de blesser, de decevoir, encore, peut etre...
caro cette pute qui est partie, mais genre quoi. J'ai pas pleuré, j'avais tout donné la veille, mais c'etait horrible comme adieu, genre, je voulais pas qu'elle parte, la pute. mais c'etait rigolo, ces deux dernieres semaines. vraiment intense. un concentré de liverpool.
toujours des "si seulement", forcement, pask'on a pas fini d'etre betes, genre alexia qui hallucinait, jte rassure nous aussi on hallucine, mais c'est comme ca, et non pas vivement grenade, ca sera pire, pour moi au moins. alas..
j'ai plein de listes dans ma tete, de projets. j'ai vraiment envie d'ouvrir notre egg a toulousemontpellier. quitte a perdre la notion de notreegg. mais on dirait jamais a personne ou est le vrai l'original, donc ca serait qd meme tjrs un peu notre egg. et puis je serai pas obligee de finir LEA-Europe.
La en tete j'avais l'image de l'autre blonde qui disait au-revoir a peter en lui montant dessus, ca me fait glousser betement, eww, c'etait creepy et marrant.
lui, c'est le seul qu'on connaisse qui soit comme ca, qd meme. Jsais pas trop si ca existe bcp, dans le monde.
Lui c'est le seul mec sans meuf qui touche tout le monde et que tout le monde touche - je repense à hier le rasé qui le hugge, et alexia qui dit "ah wai donc il fait ca aux mecs aussi"
et ahaa, on avait evidemment la meme chose en tete toutes, au meme moment, genre j'ouvrais la bouche pour dire ca, comme à l'egg "on est à une table de vieux", c'etait enorme, comme equation, et comme table, les trois en face de nous, et nous, je voyais la ligne mentale qui reliait nos trois cerveaux, avec exactement le meme sentiment.
AH oui, et un peu plus tout dans la journee, je m'etais fait attaquer par une abeille tueuse, et j'aurais pu me faire mordre (oui) cinq fois avt que caro reagisse putain.
J'ai envie de revoir Mariane, ya deux trois jours je trainais dans Waterstones et je touchais des livres, et j'ai compris a ce moment là comment elle pouvait y passer des heures,
parce que malgre la grandeur et l'etagité c'etait familier comme environnement, je comprends que ca puisse etre rassurant, que ca feels like home, comme l'egg, paske c'est ce que j'y ai ressenti, a ce moment là, les doigts sur brett easton ellis.
tellement familier, que le gars de partout, de l'egg tout le temps, et du korova, et du EBGBs, bosse au costa coffee qui est dans Waterstones. evidemment.
"I - am - an - ARTIST - *pimp* "
"andy warhol.. he could take a piss on a canvas and still sell it a million dollars... great banana... i've always tried to get Jamie to make bananas..." |
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| oh me oh my |
[May. 5th, 2006|08:05 pm]
dontdieordryup
|
| [ | mood |
| | tormented !! | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Morrissey - I Like You | ] |
i'm infatuated, an obsession after another, but seriously, i'm infatuated. i need to see him now, i dont think a complete stranger has already affected me that much, made the corniest & most perfect dream last night, almost cried when i woke up because it was so insanely realistic, all the tiny little details and absolutely perfect, appart from him it included my whole family, and well ana & alex, funnily, and there hasnt been a single minute today were my thoughts werent focused on him, there hasnt been a single minute where my heart and my soul, that i both feel in my guts, in my stomach, in my throat, a single minute where my heart & my soul had been at rest, i see him face & his perfect body & i remember and aaaaah, i need to see him.
god bless whoever invented the livejournals, whoever allowed to vent randomly on the internet, to write freely endless rants that lack of punctuation, endless rants that are totally useless, mais han, ca fait du bien.
love him love him love him, well, love the perfect image that i have of him |
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| i'm never gonna know you now... but i'm gonna love you anyhow.. |
[Apr. 20th, 2006|04:15 pm]
dontdieordryup
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| [ | music |
| | elliott smith - waltz #2 | ] |
simply because i need to be needed. need to matter for someone. alas.
monday night and what seemed to be a small victory but now, did it really do any good... i'm simply more frustrated, obsessed, & feeling pathetic (there's circle that never ends...)(do i want his number? do i want to see him again? do i want MORE ?)(you bet i do.)
when am i going to start living, me demande-je.
many people i'd truly wish to hug right now, those who'd understand, those who wouldn't judge, sigh, raise their eyebrows. those who'd help to let go..
i've got a cold, as usual. |
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