Touga Kiryuu
ты говоришь, я так хорош - это оттого, что ты так хороша со мной
I'm still in hiding, and I'm still not writing.
Feels like someone's chopped my hands off, and all I'm left with is the hours this whirlwind of images in my head. Like a tabloid article headline: RELEASE NOT COMING (absolutely no pun intended).

Is there even such a thing as 'skin memory'? Perhaps calling it 'under-the-skin memory' would be more accurate.
This -- this feels like an 'under-the-skin' memory. Lazy, scorching city sun heating up the pavement, then the heavy smell of railroads, and then the freshness of the river, bubbles of water bursting against the ship's deck, my long hair all tangled up from the wind.
And this:

"I wanna be in the rockin'est city
I wanna do what I want if it kills me
Have to say, your home's where you make it
It's OK, I know when you fake it
I wanna be the gum on your train seat
I wanna stand up and walk on my own feet
I wanna be the one you can be around
I wanna be the rock underneath your ground
I wanna be the one who can make you proud
I wanna be the one you can be around
I wanna be the one you can be around..."

Guess who I'm thinking about listening to it, now.
I have to write. I have to. Otherwise I'm just gonna explode.
And this avalanche will suffocate... somebody.

It's just... so *him*: It's okay, I know when you fake it. Him, serenading.

@темы: Noli me tangere, Lyrics, Universe is a Spiral