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ALL LOVERS ARE LUNATICS
Lives in a state of denial.
Who needs lovers when you've got love?
Speaks fluent capslock and profanity.
From a very young age I had learnt how to annoy great numbers of people in a surprisingly short amount of time. Usually with my laughter.
I am so going to do this to my coworker’s chair when he gets back from medical leave.
I am certain it will make up for the fact that he ended up ill because of me in the first place.
(via out-gayed-myself)
(via heywinchester)
All roads lead to
I had a gig at one of the joints in Dempsey Hill tonight. Once an old army base rife with tales of ghostly sightings, the area has since been converted by the tourism board into an enclave of overpriced bars and restaurants. However, there remain dark, quiet pockets of foliage and earth amidst the once-military landscape. By day, Dempsey Hill bakes in the sun like a beached monster, lying in wait for when the sky bleeds away and the air thrums with the chatter and clink of couples and families who enjoy dining in what they believe is a rare slice of nature in their metal city.
We play late night gigs, my guitarist and I. Tonight, he was running late. Or maybe I was early, but nevertheless this found me wandering around the vicinity of the restaurant. If I turned to look behind me I could see it glittering with its fairy lights and pseudo-ethnic lanterns like an obnoxious gold tooth in someone’s mouth. There wasn’t anyone to be seen for dozens of yards, and I had to walk like Quasimodo to avoid some of the low-hanging trees. This was when I saw it, laid out as if in sweet supplication, right in the middle of my path.
A single frangipani flower.
If I were my best friend, I would have stopped cold and started crossing my chest while muttering protection charms because she’s the superstitious sort who finds spirits lurking abundantly in foreign hotels and chamber pots (when they are mostly in her head). But I’m not her, and I’m not superstitious. So I didn’t spare a thought for the frangipani and how it’s commonly portrayed as a symbol of death, sorrow or the supernatural in Asian folklore. Even though there was something that made me stop and look at it like it was special in some way.
A few paces more, and then I saw something else slightly more disturbing. It was a lock of hair.
There was a little rubber band tied around the middle and I noticed that it trickled into a gap between the stone steps. I wanted to take a closer look. Or even pull at the end of the hair, but at the very last minute stopped myself and snapped a photo instead.
The funny thing is, as I made my way deeper into the base of the hill, I started finding more locks of hair just like the first one.
Things were starting to look like a twisted version of Hansel and Gretel.
Beyond these last two locks was an area utterly devoid of any lighting. The air was starting to feel damp and sticky, and the curious part of me wanted to follow the trail of hair to see where it led.
I was interrupted by the beeping of my cellphone. It was my guitarist, he was on his way. It felt like I suddenly remembered what I was doing, and I hastened back to the restaurant to set up for our performance.
Later on, I could not shake the unnerving feeling that was brought upon by stumbling upon the frangipani. There was something about that single white flower that made me feel uncomfortable. Maybe because there were no frangipani trees around. It looked like it was placed with utmost care right in the centre of the otherwise gloomy path, with no other fallen flowers or leaves lying remotely nearby. Almost as if someone had put it there. Someone who also left locks of their hair for me to follow.
My BFF and I before The Amazing Spider-Man. Obviously we kinda missed the point about dressing appropriately, because someone yelled “GET OUTTA HERE DC FOLKS” at us.
we all have secrets
My Qwertee shirt arrived today! I wore it to work with the sole intention of instigating envy (also high-fives and chest bumps) amongst my colleagues. It worked.
Also, that mask was forced upon me by the boss because lately I’ve been dealing with the nastiest cough and she insists that everyone treats me like a leper unless I wear at least FOUR of those things on my face. At the same time.
I tried telling her about the virtues of Mother Theresa but it seems she views not catching my flu more important than winning a Nobel Peace prize.
Thank you so much for liking the song! It’s actually my first time trying out something like this and recording it so I’m really encouraged that people are even listening to it. :)
You can download it directly from my SoundCloud, here:
Where He Could Not Follow - A Dean/Cas remix of Keane’s Somewhere Only We Know.
I also uploaded it on MediaFire so you can download it here as well.
For the original song post and lyrics, you can go here.
And yes, I first recorded myself playing the keys with my guitarist Clarence freestyling in the background. Then I sang over the instrumentals, and finally added the strings as an afterthought. Clarence was very kind as to help put it all together for me and let me use his recording program in the first place. This was all done very hurriedly as we were about to head out for a gig so I reckon I might do a proper recording with a cleaner arrangement the next time!
100% accurate.
This entire week I’ve been dealing with bouts of explosive diarrhoea. It has not been fun.
The only joy I can glean from this painful experience is from giving a play-by-play of the process and describing all the textures in rich detail when everyone else is about to start eating.
Maurizio Cattelan & Pierpaolo Ferrari for Toilet Paper Magazine
“Comprised entirely of photographs that combine high commercial production value with challengingly ambiguous narratives and a troubling imagination, in an interview with Vogue Italy, Ferrari described the project as a ‘mental outburst’ of shared ideas between the two collaborators’ passions and obsessions. The result is a fascinating collection of visual tableaux, though not for the squeamish.”
“I like how easily images multiply like rabbits. I hope some of these images can sustain more than 30 seconds of attention––most images can only sustain around ten seconds.” —M. Cattelan
(via andr0meda)
I’ve forgotten how to love the way I used to write about.
But I remember how good it feels to suckle pain vicariously through scripted hearts, to have your gut twisted like a hangman’s rope because somewhere in another world, somebody is falling in love on ink and paper. Love is pretty nice when saved for a rainy day.
Finally got around to watching Breaking Bad.
Good lord, is that show filthy or what. Does nobody on the show have a basic concept of hygiene!? I feel like I need to take a chlorine shower after each episode.
Other than triggering all my OCD tendencies I find the series really enjoyable.
Nevertheless I shall add Breaking Bad to the list of shows that make me feel squeamish, itchy and dirty just by watching them:
1. Shameless. Two words: Mickey, the “dirtiest white boy in America” and…Frank.
2. Perfume: The Story of a Murderer. What is incredibly powerful about this movie is how I could practically smell everyone just by watching them.
3. Game of Thrones. Oh god, so many burning questions. How do the women deal with periods? And medieval chamber pots arghhh! They don’t even have bidets or toilet bowls that wash your butts for you!!
4. UK Skins & Misfits. In between all the sex, drugs, and SKIPPING SCHOOL, how come nobody seems to be able to spare 10 minutes for a shower? Back in the day I used to skip classes just so I could bathe or change my clothes. Because school is gross and sweaty and everyone just…sits on the floor like they don’t recognise it’s a cesspool of bacteria and dirt and I actually get punished for bringing a plastic mat to sit on during assembly? WHERE IS JUSTICE?!
5. Prison Break Season 3 - when they were in Sona, which is set in the sweltering city of Panama. There isn’t a single episode in this season that doesn’t feature dirty pit stains, piss stains, shit stains and you never see anyone bathe. Ever. It’s not even implied.
…I’m just going to stop right here mainly because this has veered completely off the original topic and I think I need to bathe again. Eeerfg!
A few days ago I wrote a Dean/Cas remix of Keane’s Somewhere Only We Know in which I changed the lyrics to fit their story, while keeping it parallel with the original words of the song. I guess watching the S8 sneak peak made me so sad that I pestered my guitarist into letting me do a quick recording of it at his place. Each instrumental layer was done in a single take so please forgive the mistakes and raw quality of the recording!
Where He Could Not Follow
He flew across the devil’s land
He held your soul tight in the palm of his hand
You rose through earth, you’re on your feet
He made your body whole, your heart incomplete
Those forty years, where have they gone
You’ve lost your faith but there’s an angel to call on
Your fate is sealed, but you’ll never give in
And soon enough you’ll be his reason to sin
He came across his fallen kin
He felt their burning wings but nothing within
Is this the thing humans call love?
To take the monsters you’ve been dreaming of?
And those you love, they’ve come and gone
You’ve fought with heaven but the battle’s not won
He’s falling fast, his grace wears thin
And still he dances on the head of a pin
And if your heart is drowning in your sorrow
He will bleed to give you your tomorrow
He’ll be at the end of everything
That’s when you’ll know
His home is by your soul
And all you love, has come and gone
You’ve lost your will to live, your reason to mourn
You look for God, but he’s never in
And still your angel grows more human within
But if you call you know that he will follow
Shed his wings, his faith and all that he knows
He would meet his end for your beginning
He loved you so
More than you’ll ever know
Don’t you know you are his everything
So why did you go
Where he could not follow
Where he could not follow
Where he could not follow
____________________________
Credits: Original Song “Somewhere Only We Know” by Keane. Guitars and mixing courtesy of my guitarist Clarence, who found my grief highly amusing, the bastard.
About
Hello! This is P.Z.You have found my archive of fanfic, not-poems, vignettes, cosplay, personal posts and fandom worship, which mainly includes but isn't limited to: Supernatural, Harry Potter, Big Bang Theory, Community, Mike Carey, Shameless, Sinatra, MICHAEL JACKSON, Gaiman, Gaga and Queen.
My general interests include laughing at inappropriate moments, ghost hunting, reading and walking into lamp posts, theme parks, eating my feelings (golly I have PLENTY of feelings), throwing costume parties and being a public nuisance.
I have a deep seated fear of bad hygiene, public toilets, morning breath, the ocean and unidentified water. One time, a clown squirted me in the face with a water gun. At the end of it all, someone ended up with a broken nose and it wasn't me.
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