musings of a poorly cast malcontent

“I miss you babe.
I want you back.
The signs we gave,
Well, weren’t those signs supposed to last?
The rainy days, the summers back,
The signs we gave…
So what was that?”

– Summer Well - Interpol

“He used your clothes and hands and then fucked off without a trace.”

– Flirt - Arab Strap





“I hadn’t, at the last moment, felt like washing off the two diagonal lines of dried blood that marked my cheeks. They seemed touching, and rather spectacular, and I thought I would carry them around with me, like the relic of a dead lover, till they wore off of their own accord.”

– Sylvia Plath - The Bell Jar