February 2012
21 posts
Conversation in Morse Code
Doctor: .. .----. -- ... ..- .-. .--. .-. .. ... . -.. -.-- --- ..- .... .- ...- . -. .----. - -... . . -. .... --- ... .--. .. - .- .-.. .. ... . -.. .-.-.-
Me: .-- .... .- - -.. --- -.-- --- ..- -- . .- -. ..--..
Doctor: .. -- . .- -. -.-- --- ..- .----. .-. . ...- . .-. -.-- ... - .-. --- -. --. .-.-.- .- -. -.. ...- . .-. -.-- -... .-. .- ...- . .-.-.-
Bon Iver — Love More (Sharon Van Etten)
Anonymous asked: You seem like such a beautiful person.
Anonymous asked: What kind of person do you think you'll be in ten years? Will you still be so childlike and whimsical, do you think? Or will you be like Wendy and grow up?
Anonymous asked: hope you have had a happy valentine day, dearest friend. x i love you even if you don't know me. x
Anonymous asked: What is your favorite time of day? You seem like the kind of person who would spend their time in the quiet hours between day and night?
Anonymous asked: Why are you disappearing, dear Elly? Please come back.
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Anonymous asked: Can we please see your face? You never show it.
Thinking of compiling my old blog together in something of a book or downloadable file.
Thoughts?
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F. Scott Fitzgerald's list of things to worry... →
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“I lived in peace and dreamt of war.”
– from my diary, 27 February 2011
January 2012
13 posts
with apologies to Joseph Heller
I am always very friendly towards everyone, and never very nice; I speak to everyone and I never say anything.
see Catch-22
“It’s rare a man is taken for what he truly is. There is much misjudgement...”
– The Last Unicorn by Peter S. Beagle
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Happy 128th birthday, Sherlock Holmes.
Sherlock theme song on a music box.
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Choices
They offer you many things, I a few. Moonlight on the play of fountains at night With water sparkling a drowsy monotone, Bare-shouldered, smiling women and talk And a cross-play of loves and adulteries And a fear of death and a remembering of regrets: All this they offer you. I come with: salt and bread a terrible job of work and tireless war; Come and have now: ...
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December 2011
24 posts
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2011
Sitting on the edge of the kerb, arms wrapped around bare legs, thoughts like wavy lines on paper pale skin, a walking electroencephalogram, the scratchy feel of scabs on knees rubbing against the inside of wrists, feet stuck right through treacle mud—straight through to the other side of the world, bus number thirteen-twenty-five and drawing the numbers into my forearm with my...
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from my diary, 23 December 2010
My heart is torn to ribbons. Like it tumbled out of my chest and into a rosebush, scraping itself on every thorn. Hung from the mast of a lost sail-boat through stormy seas, battered by the wind.
I am feeling like my soul has been shredded.
(I am happy.)
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Do you remember the Christmas you saw Antarctica? →
Anonymous asked: You are so lovely. But we don't get to see many photos of you. Would you mind sharing a photo of what you are currently wearing?
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Download 'A History of Lost Things' here. →
napoleoncomplex:
noun. 1. A zine charting the history of all things lost. 2. Complied by the Lost Souls: Anjelica, Basil, Elina, Elly, Rachel, Sarah & Vera
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