yeah, it's called BEING A WRITER.
------------------------------------------------
------------------------------------------------
this november, i will be performing in:
city stage, springfield.
------------------------------------------------
------------------------------------------------
i am ...
the battleaxe.
deliberate brutal love master (DBLM).
sharp. hardened. dominating.
the battleaxe sweeps all before her, smiting and what not.
you've had a number of serious relationships,
so you obviously have many attractive qualities.
you're well experienced in dealing with other people's weirdnesses.
also, like the drunken housewife chucking heineken's at her no-good husband,
you've got a lot of energy.
people can tell you're sophisticated,
so you find yourself the object of infatuations quite often.
but it's how you handle yourself in
your relationships that gets you the 'brutal' tag.
controlling?
imperious?
overbearing?
yes, please.
remarkably, you don't mind the same from your men.
you've experienced enough to take whatever you dish out.
overall, you're a very good person and a capable lover,
and when the time comes you'll make a fine divorcee.
------------------------------------------------
------------------------------------------------
hey now, overcome your concern about the weather.
and whether or not im still alive.
check the vital signs.
so soft spoken and shy.
never gets high anymore.
did you poison my food?
forgive me, i've the paranoid flu.
i've been lying wide awake paralyzed by the buzzing of the television
these modern things we know, getting you off...
haunting us, these different meanings and spectral beings.
we're fighting sleep with broken, rusted weaponry.
sing so softly and low, like you want me to hear.
stolen what you can't afford.
what's that muffled beating for?
something i could never say.
speak so softly and low.
something i could never say.
(yltfos os kaeps).
speak so softly.
if you love me, let me go...
- "house of leaves" (hidden track) -
circa survive.
------------------------------------------------
------------------------------------------------
he laid emeralds in her eyes, oh, but i'd already tried.
a bracelet made of gold and scarlet thread around her wrist.
and everything was wrong so we sang sentimental songs.
oh, how seldom we belong
but how elegant our kiss.
we painted crooked lines but we danced in perfect time, to a love so much refined, we know not what it is until
like a dullen wine we pour into a grief we know before
but it's never quite like this...
all i know now is regret.
it follows like a silhouette along the cobblestone behind me,but has nothing to say except to innocently ask,
a voice as delicate as glass,
"do you see me when we pass?"
but i continue on my way.
- "memphis will be laid to waste" -
norma jean.
------------------------------------------------
------------------------------------------------
but as for me...
i'm a walking paradox.
a simple gal with a complex way of thinking.intensely introspective, yet obsessed with the past.
sweet and kind with an underlying rage.
many friends, but very much a loner.
outgoing in social situations, but prefers isolation.
outspoken and loud, yet painfully sensitive and shy.
egotisical and arrogant, with no self-esteem.
outstanding work ethic but totally broke.
go ahead. try and read me.
you'll need help with the big words.------------------------------------------------
------------------------------------------------
music keeps me sane.
...something has to.------------------------------------------------
------------------------------------------------