(no subject)

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I was driving home from his house that night.  Him being that guy I was dating who wasn't you.  He was sweet, and he was kind, and attentive, and he liked me more than you ever did.

But that night I was driving home and thinking of you.  Thinking of the taste of Kahlua and milk on your lips, the way your eyes light up when you're excited, spinning like little blue-green planets.  Thinking of your fingers trailing along hills and hollows of my hips and back.  And most of all, thinking about the six months that had passed since I last spoke to you.

I should have been angry.  I should have been furious with you, ignoring my phone calls and pretending not to see me in the bookstore.  But I knew I never could be, because of that cracking feeling in my heart.  The fact that you could cause me physical pain was astonishing.  It was like someone had poked greedy fingers into my chest and wrapped them around my lungs.

When I started to cry, it was like I would never stop.  I could barely see, salty streams coursing furiously down red cheeks.  Cars were honking, lights flashing red and yellow, but I couldn't stop driving.  I couldn't stop crying.  And I couldn't stop the words from pounding down over me:

But I’m not seeing you look at me, So please won’t you look at me? Or I am not anything ...

  • Current Music
    Counting Crows - Cowboys

Lost Music (for a Hippie) Podcast

This time of year reminds me of the movies. Weather getting colder, more time off heading my way as school closes for the holidays, and I find myself more inclined to spend two hours in a dark theater. To celebrate the five or six movies I will probably see in the next month (that’s a lot for me), we dedicate this podcast to some of personal favorite soundtrack songs. Hedwig celebrates love, the Muppets picture that, Judas questions JC’s motives, and yes, Cartman has a word other two to share. All this plus a little Stevie, some Australian Birdman, and the greatest pop band post-beatles doing an acoustic medley! Book em Dano!

Check out this and more at http://losthippiepodcast.blogspot.com

Download the podcast, the MP3, or stream straight off the net!

(no subject)

You wanted it. 

But she didn't. She writhed on the concrete, building scar after scar, fire rushing along each mark, fire burning within her body. They all held her down, mentally, physically, emotionally. She is always here, always there, but never really here. Always searching for herself inside of each of these people. So pretty, always pretty, never beautiful, but always pretty. Faster, faster, faster her auburn hair twitched with every movement of his body, but she wasn't there, only watching this pretty girl with this grey, grey man. Grey, grey men who told praised this prettiness, and called her an angel in twilight and a whore in the morning. She knew she was a whore, using man after man to pursue herself, her mind, her insides that she could never reach. They got her close, so close, when she screamed, she saw it, saw EXACTLY what it was and could get so close and then she fell, fell so far, and so hard, and so blissfully as she forgot her goal and let it free. Shuddering, she let her hair down for the men to comb, to smell, to taste, to touch, and stroke her back to life.

And she did.

Lyrics here.
  • Current Music
    Neutral Milk Hotel - Naomi

(no subject)

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First off, i would just like to say that I love the idea of this community. Music is so important to me and I always find songs that are relevant to my life. Now I can finally tell those stories.

I was listening to this song at around 11:30 last night and realized it was the story of my life right now. I'm a sophomore in high school, and there's senior boy in my school who I've sort admired from afar all year. He's a complete nerd, 4.0 GPA, glasses and all. I didn't really have a huge crush on him (though I'll admit I got a little infatuated), but I wanted to talk to him and get to know him...I want him around. Being the shy person that I am, I hardly talked to him all year long. Then just recently I got the courage to ask him to prom. He basically told me that he wasn't sure if he was going or not. I waited the whole next week waiting for a real answer from him. I never got it.

A couple of his friends thought that I was not good enough for him and I shouldn't be able to go to prom with him because I am only a sophomore. They said some things that really hurt, but then again a lot of my friends (who are also seniors) said some very nice things. I don't know if any of that had an effect on his actions. I was disappointed more because I had put him on this pedestal and he fell off.

I don't know if he thought I was weird or what. But all I wanted was to get to know him, and now there is only 15 days left until the seniors leave for summer. My only regret is not talking to him sooner, and sometimes I wish I could go back and do that. But whenever I hear this song, I will remember my awkward sophomore year of high school, and I'll remember him and how I never got to experience "not-my-prom".
  • Current Music
    The Ramones "I Want You Around"

nothing pays off.

i've always been a good kid. i never did drugs. i never drank alcohol. i pray.
in elementary school i was nice to everyone. i never bullied anyone around. i never cheated off of anyone's tests. i was respectful to my teachers. i gave people money if they needed it. i gave people my lunch if they wanted it. i would sometimes sneak extra into my lunch box for them.
when i came home; i did my homework. i ignored my sister yelling at my mother. i cleaned my room. i always ate dinner, even if i didn't like it.
i welcomed my dad with open arms when he returned home after months, even if i hated him for it. i dressed like a boy. i had more scars than skirts. i played sports because i believed it would make my dad happier with me. i thought maybe if he saw how good i was at basketball or baseball, he might be proud enough to stay for good this time.
i would sleep in my mothers room when she cried; but i would secretly block my ears so that i couldn't hear her crying, and hide my face in the pillow so that she couldn't ear me crying with her.
sometimes if my mom got called to go into work at 2 in the morning, and i woke up to see that her car was gone, i would have an unbelievably bad stomach ache until she returned. sometimes i would wonder if she didn't really get called in; maybe she had left, too.
one time, she went touring in Israel for 2 weeks with some people from church. i didn't sleep for those 2 weeks. i couldn't focus in school. and i threw up every morning. i was 10.
i went through my moms CD's one night when i was 7, and discovered music. i started to understand things. i hated taking my headphones off.
the first time my sister attempted suicide, and we drove her to the hospital, i had to sit in the back seat with her and hold down her arms, while my mother kept her hand on "lock" on the car door. she was going to jump if we let her.
i hated inviting people over my house when she was home, because i didn't know if she was going to cause a scene, embarrass me, or try something on herself.
the night before i left for France, my mom had to drive her to the hospital again. i packed my clothes alone.
there was one thing i learned for sure growing up. and that was that distance between two people can be the worst thing someone can experience. i saw it with my dad. i saw it with my sister. i saw it with my mom. i see it now.
i've always been a good kid. and i've always tried my hardest. i never did drugs. i never drank alcohol. and i pray every night. i used to see where all of that payed off. but it's fading. i don't want to sneak extra in my lunch box anymore. i don't want to eat my dinner if i don't like it. and i fucking hate sports. one things for sure, though. my hands are still blocking my ears. and my face is still hiding in the pillow. because i still get those stomach aches, and i still throw up when i hear myself cry.


So he wasn't right for me.  He was somewhat right wing, I am more left.  He resides in the southeast, I in the west.  We weren't meant to be.  I get it.  This song gets it.  You cannot pretend something is there when it isn't.  There are times you just gotta let go and head your separate ways.  We're better off separated.  (It is also why I have stopped commenting on his journal entries even though I still read them like a pathetic fool I am, and I have refrained from emailing, calling, and even IMing him because let's face it, if he cared he would contact me.  No point in showing someone you still care when they obviously do not.)

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Life Goes On

A song about being played.  Yes, I have many more of these break-up songs that I will be displaying here until I get enough to fill a CD.  It's been almost two months now.  I shouldn't even care anymore...But it's hard for me to let something go, even if I say I am over it.  You cannot shake someone you once cared for off so easily.  It's my fault for believing there would be more.  It's his fault for not stating there wouldn't be from the get-go.  No one wants to be led on, but life does, in fact, go on, even if inside we feel as though we've died just a little...

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It Only Hurts When I'm Breathing

Even if I am upset or I've distanced myself from the person, I still feel pain knowing it didn't work out.  Whether I was the one who broke it off, or he broke up with me, whatever the circumstance, I still look back and reminisce and hope the other is doing well, no matter how badly I was hurt by him.  This song by Shania Twain fits how I felt about BCD when he started avoiding me, ignoring my emails, not returning my calls...Pathetic, I know, but a girl hates to be left hanging.  We'd rather know we're not wanted anymore than to be left in the dark.  So for you guys out there that think you're doing us a favor by being wimps and not giving us the brutal and honest truth, know that it sometimes hurts more not knowing than being told.  We women have very vivid imaginations and can conjure up all the worst case scenarios...Not cool.


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