When your ear hurts just listen to 80s Spanish music and move your bum until your dreams are a dance floor— is what i should have told him. But no, I run into the night to whisk him into my arms when we both felt from 10 blocks away that we were monday night sea urchins. None of us wanted tacos. His ear hurt. He didn’t want to be touched. We forfeit tacos and pretended there was a rewind button on a dashboard and said goodnight. it it is okay to dance alone, i’m learning. it always okay unless you never stop dancing, and it is never worth clinging to the ones who insist on stepping on your toes.
“Once upon a time there was a crooked tree and a straight tree. And they grew next to each other. And every day the straight tree would look at the crooked tree and he would say, ‘You’re crooked. You’ve always been crooked and you’ll continue to be crooked. But look at me! Look at me!’ said the straight tree. He said, ‘I’m tall and I’m straight.’ And then one day the lumberjacks came into the forest and looked around, and the manager in charge said, ‘Cut all the straight trees.’ And that crooked tree is still there to this day, growing strong and growing strange.”
Tom Waits, Wristcutters: A Love Story (via feellng)
EDDIE BERMAN + LAURA MARLING : LIKE A ROLLING STONE (BOB DYLAN COVER) (LIVE)
Santiago, Chile: “Free Palestine! Super dope to see international struggles come together here in Chile, where the largest population of Palestinians exists outside of Palestine. Amazing video shoot for @anatijoux new song ft Shadia Mansour.”
Via Rebel Diaz
Happy birthday Prince!!
Today a someone flew away. I knew her from the hazy days in the bunker. They say her heart suddenly stopped last night— but everyone knows it was all but sudden. I felt everything quiet for a minute. I was sitting at my desk at work, and suddenly I was back there, a silent stoned fairy child watching over all of these twiggy girls swimming in drug dreams. I didn’t know I was watching at the time, but I always knew I needed to. Your wings are not foolproof. I wonder if she felt herself falling. I wonder if I could have caught her.
Mama and I are both broke so we went to Lucys and drank cheap tequila and inhaled greasy nachos for dinner. Her heart belongs to a bright blue costa rica house on la boca, a place she’s always known and hasn’t been able to articulate. Mama found it. I was crying into my margarita about what I always do— the words are always so hard to find for me now. Feeling has always been verbose enough. The old Hollywood headshot of Humphrey Bogart looked down at me on the Lucys cobblestones and told me to shut up and use my cactus teeth, bit into the silences you perpetuate, and live. Live like C always needed to, live like the blue of mamas boca house, live like the extravagance broke nachos, live like sunday mornings in los angeles and catch yourself, this time.