Text 31 Aug 1 note

And with my latest post in which I celebrate one of my favourite Wilfred Owen quotes, I lose another follower.

Thus, it’s a great time to announce that I’ve made a new blog and will be posting on that from now on. The URL is once again: http://www.almolloy.tumblr.com

Photo 31 Aug 7 notes "Beauty is yours and you have mastery,
 Wisdom is mine and I have mystery.”

"Beauty is yours and you have mastery,

Wisdom is mine and I have mystery.”

Photo 31 Aug 1 note My cousin on is on Italian TV. Legend.
Ye can guess which one he is. Hint: he’s the one who looks slightly like me haha.

My cousin on is on Italian TV. Legend.

Ye can guess which one he is. Hint: he’s the one who looks slightly like me haha.

Text 29 Aug

This is my 1,000th post.

I can’t believe I’ve stuck with this blog for so long. I guess my dedication to documenting my feelings, lyrics and myself in general, was strong enough to last.

What’s more is, I’d say about 80% of the content is original, which I’m proud of. It probably explains why I have barely any followers. Hah. Though, there are a select few who I know are keen on what I post and a select few is all I need.

So, to those people, thank you.

Although I think I might start a new blog. I’d like a fresh start. In the beginning, I posted a lot of pictures but slowly phased that out and now I feel as though my blog is slightly unbalanced because of it. I’ll keep ye lot posted.

Video 27 Aug

Bad luck play with the effortless, so I backed away from quick benefits.

Text 26 Aug 1 note sentimental (and a bit mental)

Lyrics

The offer he gave was good. I knew that he knew that he had me pinned. The tail was met with the mule and I gave into the devil’s temptation. He looked me square with his circular eyes, “you have a year to make this work”. Didn’t utter a word. I just nodded in the knowledge that I could make a mean dirge.

I was born on a day that forgets it’s a day. Plays games with the calender and has its own way. The way I grew up was all right. No complaints. It’s all my fault, anyway. I used to have hope but it fell by the wayside. It was crushed by bravado, libido and Zeitgeist. I used to dream until I never woke up. These adams and eves are figments of my own.

I’m the quintessential, sentimental hero. Alone when the beard on my chin wouldn’t grow. Quixotic, never robotic. A product of the cold hottest spring, summer, autumn, winter.

The seasons change but things stay the same. I’m still made to feel cold no matter the day. If any on this battlefield feel the same way, I’mma drop the veneer and move on my way.

Not many like me and many give up. I give it all when I know that some won’t even brook. I would tell you the things I did wrong, I promise. Though if I’m honest, I think it’s just them. Won’t repent. You pay no mind. If I’m honest, that’s fucked up. Sugaring the storm in the proverbial teacup. I’m not what you say, so why bother to say it? I just sway with the wind when the voices fake it.

When I say it doesn’t hurt, well, that’s when it does. When I say I ain’t scared, well, that’s when I was. My mind is filled with romantic writing. Decipher the malady and then you’ll find me. Find me dancing on the brink of death and you’ll figure out a way to stop me falling. You’ll arrive like a mermaid rife with melody and not a false alarm siren.

When I put it right down, I’m just tired of being hated. I can look upon a crowd and see a million faces. Though the story’s the same; they all stare and don’t look. And the name tag’s blank; I don’t know whom to thank.

To those that hate me. Those in between. Some roses sting. Some bees give honey. Let it be, if I may, I demand ye be privy. Gonna take a sentimental journey.

Photo 23 Aug 1 note Leave my dreams before they break and stay alive for when I wake.

Leave my dreams before they break and stay alive for when I wake.

Photo 23 Aug 3 notes Beverly Kenney came from a strictly Catholic Irish-American family. Her suicide was precipitated by allegedly intense emotional letters sent to her mother (who disapproved of her career). Her mother subsequently destroyed them without revealing their contents to anyone.

Beverly Kenney came from a strictly Catholic Irish-American family. Her suicide was precipitated by allegedly intense emotional letters sent to her mother (who disapproved of her career). Her mother subsequently destroyed them without revealing their contents to anyone.

Video 20 Aug 4 notes

You thought we’d both go up in smoke. Send dual smoke signals. You got denied, that must be why you drew both pistols. You shot the sky and here I am catching fallen angels.

Video 18 Aug 59 notes

Owl City - Fireflies.

You may not think it, but this song is very, very meaningful. Instead of fumbling my way towards an interpretation, here is a perfect summary that someone else made:

At the heart of this song there seems to be a yearning or a desire to escape back to childhood innocence. Upon first hearing the song, I was intrigued by the melody and simple lyrics; it wasn’t until I actually questioned the artists intent that I began seeing the deeper meaning of Adam Young’s lyrics. The song starts by telling us we would “not believe” our eyes, a statement that suggests the song will cover some sort of fantastic occurrence. Then the song progresses into a dream like quality. The speaker actually speaks of fireflies as if they were surrounded by them, but I can’t help believe the fireflies are supposed to stand for a specific event or situation. Hence the question: Who would catch fireflies? The answer: innocent children. The song speaks about the innocence of youth and how quickly that innocence escapes us. The chorus says “I’d LIKE to make myself believe” suggesting a desire of something that can not be completely accomplished. The speaker wants to believe earth moves slowly; if he can’t believe that simple statement, it must mean the opposite is true—planet Earth spins much too fast. In other words, time passes by much too quickly. The speaker then talks about the desire to remain in that dream trance instead of waking up to reality, because within that dream trance is the innocence of youth. An innocence and naivety that allows a simple act—catching fireflies—to become a magical excursion into a wonderland of possibility and adventure. The point of the song seems to speak about the need to hold onto and embrace (maybe even slip back into) our child hood innocence so the reality of growing up does not completely take away the magic and joy the world has to offer. Simply put: We are all forced to give up our childhood too soon. We need more fireflies and rooms full of toys (video) to keep our lives simple and innocent.


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