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sunday mornings in libraries. sunday afternoons in cafes. nights spent face down listening to white noise. swing dresses dried flowers and a pink sofa. ink stains and squids and messy hair. records on repeat. joan didion and middlemarch. words clutched so tightly they might as well be heartbeats. bad temperedness to boot. and a skirt worn like a flag
About Me
- madeleine
- one of the deliberate outcasts, the original hypocrites and ghosts in the wet dreams of Morrissey.
as if there wasn't enough oversharing already...
Blog Archive
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2008
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June
(17)
- things that go bump in the night
- just because i'm losing doesn't mean i've lost
- um.
- first impression
- cold days from the birdhouse
- 'we're no' fuckin' guns 'n' roses, ay?"
- this great ghostly garden
- With a Buzz in Our Ears We Play Endlessly
- ding dong
- you've gotta spend some time, love
- austere
- the gentry cove
- my eyes are saucers
- last minute OCD
- dance dance dance to the radio
- it'd be really very nice if all mothers were like ...
- trust me
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June
(17)
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