This song always makes me cry.

I insist on listening to it over and over again, though, because I'm ridiculous. The three of them did a really good job of this, for an unprofessional performance of the song for a class.


I love the concept of this video. Various people were interviewed and it was then animated in the zoo. I love it. The jaguar is, of course, my favorite--"I need-a the space!" Nick Park is a genius. The highlight is when the smallest polar bear asks if her father enjoys lion steak as well as regular steak; this is a clear conclusion for a small child who had perceived the conversation as being strictly about the zoo, but an embarassing moment for her mother (who truly has no right to be embarassed, because she has trouble making her point or even forming a sentence when she tries to assert that animals should be confined in the zoo--"I think it's much better to be in, um...bars, because, um..." at about 2:56).

A while ago I lost all of my Meg & Dia, but I have (some of) it back! The Great Computer Crash of 2007 and the Second, Smaller Loss of Data of 2008 continue to thwart me, even months after they occured. >[ life.

My dad shared with me some excellent music. I'm really enjoying Pete Yorn, because he's a really solid songwriter, and Sugarcubes, because Bjork. Carla Bruni's first album, Quelqu'un M'a Dit, is just as enjoyable as a whole as the last song ("La Derniere Minute") AND as her sophomore effort (No Promises, the lyrics of which were all--mostly? idk--Anglophone poems). Check all three artists out or die.

I will start writing again. I will start writing again. I will start writing again. I'm working on a story. For once, I'm hoping this will go somewhere.



It is now eighty-one minutes past the start of the day. For sixty whole seconds, I thought of nothing but you. And I would have jumped at the chance to savor 00:00 with you tonight, would have fought to be there just for sixty seconds, had I known that without you midnight is just midnight. I think the countdown would taste amazing on your skin. The delight would mold itself to my hands, like maybe your hip bones would. You could tap the seconds into my hand. Our fingers would lie warm together in your hoodie pocket. I have become far too invested in this.

My tongue rests behind my teeth. My fingers fall carefully to the keys. My words sit heavy in my lap.

You are the rose I will ask for.


my name is will will the tin soldier (will the tin soldier please...?)

the boy in the courderoy jacket can't be too warm kindred spirits!i am not either. he reminds me of you (even though all you share is the pronoun and the jacket)
and he will never know that three days later i think about his red chilled cheeks teeth clenched against the cold and fists braced in his pockets. just like you will never know how close i came how close i would let myself get to you

my skull is falling apart i'm out of painkillers and it's too late to go to the store. my hair clings to my head like sleep to my eyeballs and if i'm a puzzle i'm missing a few crucial pieces

would you tell me?
i will never dust off the puzzle in the corner it has too many missing end pieces. you will never blow the dust off the good book because you can't be bothered to read more than a little.

people ask me all the time what's the date and what's the time and my internal clock's so screwed i couldn't even answer you when you asked if time's a lake or just a river with no end
i want to take a hammer to a watch and watch the cogs spring out and off quartz fingernails on leather jackets diamond ink in empty packets sand in digits hot and loose but you in me too far and close (how close how close?)

could you give me more than that? you're just yourself til you loan it. you're just a sheep so let's clone it. a name's a name but i own it. shakespeare said it best but maybe i'm no rose, just a closed mine closed mind

will you tell me a lie?

i stand on one leg a toy soldier or a crane and i'll empty rivers in pursuit of you mine is an honorable task and how could it be anything else when i stand so sharp and handsome in my tattered tin uniform?