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i never thought i would compromise
Linsey's Jeff Buckley entry made me realize that I've been neglecting my headphones. I hadn't even listened to Vespertine with them yet, and I knew that was wrong on a number of levels, Bjork being the goddess of musical layers and all. So I dug out my discman and put it in and holy fuck I didn't even know what I was missing.
Her voice is a stimulant, an aphrodisiac, a hallucinogen. I once saw the morning aftermath of a Connecticut ice storm - the trees all glazed and glittering and terrifyingly beautiful. That's what her voice is like, and the whole damn cd, really.
I love them all, but the songs always on constant repeat are "It's Not Up to You", with its overlapping, climactic chorus; "Aurora", all swirling and soaring and harp-driven; and most of all, the perfect finale, "Unison", for which words do not come easily. The lyrics of that one get me, and it's so wonderfully joyous. And I'm getting emotional and weepy.
Perhaps I was better off without the headphones. It's like mainlining, really, twice as potent and much more addictive.
I've been reading Shelley, though not the bits of Shelley I should be reading for class. I like his poetry, which is beautifully lyrical, if a bit sentimental. I like sentimental, though. I can be sappy when it pleases me to be.
The Romantics did know their poetry, though. The prose I could live without. Unlike the Victorians, who wrote great prose and dreary, stiff, moralistic poetry. I'm sure there're exceptions to both, but I've yet to find them.
I'm trying to ease out of the caffeine habit. Not entirely, that would NEVER work and I'm not insane enough to put myself through the withdrawal, which would be hell. But it's getting out of hand. I'm going to try to let up on the diet coke, at any rate. Tea's healthier anyway.
I am so happy right now. It takes so little, really; just give me beautiful music and beautiful words, and I am a stupidly happy girl. I love my simple little life sometimes.
Her voice is a stimulant, an aphrodisiac, a hallucinogen. I once saw the morning aftermath of a Connecticut ice storm - the trees all glazed and glittering and terrifyingly beautiful. That's what her voice is like, and the whole damn cd, really.
I love them all, but the songs always on constant repeat are "It's Not Up to You", with its overlapping, climactic chorus; "Aurora", all swirling and soaring and harp-driven; and most of all, the perfect finale, "Unison", for which words do not come easily. The lyrics of that one get me, and it's so wonderfully joyous. And I'm getting emotional and weepy.
Perhaps I was better off without the headphones. It's like mainlining, really, twice as potent and much more addictive.
I've been reading Shelley, though not the bits of Shelley I should be reading for class. I like his poetry, which is beautifully lyrical, if a bit sentimental. I like sentimental, though. I can be sappy when it pleases me to be.
The Romantics did know their poetry, though. The prose I could live without. Unlike the Victorians, who wrote great prose and dreary, stiff, moralistic poetry. I'm sure there're exceptions to both, but I've yet to find them.
I'm trying to ease out of the caffeine habit. Not entirely, that would NEVER work and I'm not insane enough to put myself through the withdrawal, which would be hell. But it's getting out of hand. I'm going to try to let up on the diet coke, at any rate. Tea's healthier anyway.
I am so happy right now. It takes so little, really; just give me beautiful music and beautiful words, and I am a stupidly happy girl. I love my simple little life sometimes.
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I knew you would understand the seriousness of this issue!!