She's The Last of The English Roses: loss.

"And it came to me then. That we were wonderful traveling companions but in the end no more than lonely lumps of metal in their own separate orbits. From far off they look like beautiful shooting stars, but in reality they're nothing more than prisons, where each of us is locked up alone, going nowhere. When the orbits of these two satellites of ours happened to cross paths, we could be together. Maybe even open our hearts to each other. But that was only for the briefest moment. In the next instant we'd be in absolute solitude. Until we burned up and became nothing."

- Haruki Murakami, Sputnik Sweatheart.

She's The Last of The English Roses

Friday, September 18, 2009

I just don't want to die without a few scars.

C'est Moi

No Future.

Shadowplay.

Sid Vicious Did It My Way

Count In Fives

Haute Couture

Parasites.

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