Follow me, Amanda Lear. I daydream about doing coke to it. Im too pussy to give it a shot .
Strangers in the night, Frank Sinatra. go rewatch Scarface when you have a couple hours to spare.
You baby, Ronettes. you know ive been wanting youuuuuu
my whole life throuuuuugh
and now that youâre my guyyyyyy
im gonna live and die, for only youuuuuu
I have someone in mind as I listen to this, but itâll never happen. My unrequited love. So I will just feel feelings through music. You would think in your 40s you will be done with these feelings, but it is pervasive for some of us. Allo darlinâ - dreaming
will you go out with me tonight
lose it on a disco floor
take the night bus with me tonight
frost on the window
it's freezing out here on the pavement
but here in your arms
it's heaven
i can wait for you now
but not forever
i have tried everything i know
to make you understand
this is not a game for broken hearts
played by a lonely band
we've both got so much to lose
but here in your arms
it's heaven
i can wait for you now
but not forever
i was surprised by how happy i was
don't ask why it's just because
down by the harbour in the dawn
it's not a star it's a satellite
the thought of it keeps me from sleeping
or am i already dreaming?
there are so many versions of âstrangers in the nightâ and for good reason too. itâs a classic old love song. this is my favorite rendition of it, done by thee midniters. thee midniters were a band that came out of east L.A. in the 60s when the chicano movement was picking up pace. they were beloved by chicanos in los angeles in that time for showing brown pride in a time that they were still heavily discriminated against and they even have a song called âchicano powerâ thatâs filled with so much powerful energy, i highly recommend. iâve been humming this song and singing it SO much today. i post so many of my earworms on here but thatâs what this app is for! they have a bunch of other classic songs so if youâre into oldies/soul you should definitely check them out!
Like a dear friend . I miss how when I would smoke a cigarette it would settle into my hair , blanketing a preexisting layer of perfume. I love the way smoke seeps into the fabric of my car, my clothes, even into my skin. Smells like my parents, my grandparents. Our old house. Dads gold Lincoln towncar that we got shot at in. And last time I saw one of those, I was picking dad up from jail, and its license plate read TRULOVE.
Loneliness prevails! I would much rather live purely in solitude for ever and ever than waste another precious second in the presence of someone who has little skin in the game of knowing me or seeing me. Hearing me! I wonder why you keep me around if all your hearts desire is to hear the sound of your own voice.
It makes no difference if itâs me or anyone for that matter.
For all you know or even care I am merely an ottoman for you to rest your feet on, or a coffee table meant simply to pedestal your various notebook scrawlings and half-read books. I am a file cabinet. I have it here, dated, what you Thought and what you felt about work, or about your friends. ask me, I have it all.
And I loved it. I loved knowing you. I wanted to. I investigated and interrogated. I poured over it all with great curiosity, praying for all my red threads to weave a tapestry of you. but I canât remember the last time you asked me something about myself. When the opportunity arises, and god forbid, I Take it, you can barely hold your breath. Its like a shark sensing blood. You just canât wait to talk talk talk talk talk.
But hey, itâs your life, and baby, Iâm just living in it.