Kitty. Eggcrates. Roses. (Taken with instagram)
Kitty. Eggcrates. Roses. (Taken with instagram)
good things take time but great things happen all at once
always.
House-hunting cd. Now I’m ready for adventure. (Taken with instagram)
A storms A-brewing (Taken with instagram)
Come join us outside in Ann Arbor. We have some new songs and there will be food. Music, food, singing, strings, bass, drums and you.
I’M MAKING CHANGES AND I’M SO EXCITED TO DO THIS. FOR ME!!!!!
This summer was supposed to be about establishing myself as an independant person. Living alone, working and taking classes. I was so set on prooving to myself that I could, in fact, do this.
Well, as it turns out, I am incredibly unhappy. Like, remarkably miserable. I’m halfway done with the summer semester and am ready to throw in the towel, quit my job, go anywhere. I’ve lost weight, fell in and out of a love affair, I can’t sleep alone, every noise is an axe murderer coming for me. I’ve sunk into a slump of self-pity and misery.
So yesterday, I woke up with this incredible feeling of change. Its hard to describe it, but I just knew that I was done moping about and ready to make some alteration in my routine. Out of the blue, I called my cousin and the two of us concocted an incerdible plan.
I’m moving to Lansing and finding a house with him, my longest friend and almost brother. I’ll finish writing my album, I’ll start writing poetry again in this new, shared filled space that doesn’t echo with the emptiness that my apartment does now. I’ll be living with some sort of unconditional love, my family understands my religious need for music, my odd hours that I keep, my need to be passionate about something.
I just need this so badly. If only for a few months. It will be the best months of my life. I will finally be free.
Dancers, 1954 by Ferruccio Ferroni
(via stillfirstinspace)
Morgan M. Morgansen, you charmer, you.
Oh, hello red nails. I bet you can’t wait for this weekend.
I don’t know how to tell you that I want to stay over again, that I want you to hold my hand, to kiss my neck, to run your fingers down my spine, your eyelashes tickle my forehead, your fingers to play with my hair.
I can’t tell you, I don’t want to scare you. But I have to let you know, I don’t want to loose you.
This thing. What are we? I’m not really sure, but I like it. I like every stolen glance, butterfly in my stomach, every half-plan made, every song on the stereo.
I just want to kiss you again. I wonder if that will happen?
I find it so funny that just as soon as you find someone interested in you, without fail, there is that one person who pops up. Yes, its as if this person has an esp thats fine-tuned to your happiness, as soon as they sense you’ve found someone new… POW!!!! Then they are squeezing themselves back into your life faster than you can say “GET THE HECK AWAY FROM ME” This rare easter-egg of a person has already missed their chance with you, usually more than once.
Regardless of people being silly, I have decided to just let this go and continue to pursue my own needs sans others approval.
A song Molly Batchik and I wrote today called Sleeping Bear. Very rough draft but we will record it well soon!
In the morning I see you there
The summer sun dancing in your hair
Darling, darling, darling stay with me
Darling, darling, darling can’t you see
No better place for me
Than between you and the stream
So baby, baby, baby dive on in
And see if we can swim
Sleeping Bear grant me one wish
I’d climb your hills for just one kiss
To be with you
To be with you