February 2011
Musician rescues Miami mystery piano from sandbar →
MIAMI (AP) — A baby grand piano is gone again from a Miami sandbar after a musician rescued the battered instrument for his son.
A towing crew took the piano Thursday. Its appearance on the sandbar in early January was a mystery until 16-year-old Nicholas Harrington stepped forward this week to say he put it there as an art project.
State wildlife officials had served the Harringtons with...
January 2011
I am at my best on Mondays. Why is that?
01/27/11 Horoscope: At certain moments you can feel where your destiny lies. Today will be such a moment for you, Pisces. You may want to shift your fundamental orientation. Every area of your life will be affected by this shift - where you live, who you live with, your children, and your job. Interesting times lie ahead, Pisces. There is no doubt about that.
Coincidental. Maybe this will help.
Where do I belong? I don’t know where I belong.
Future. Roots. Future. Roots. Future. Roots.
“My happiness has never depended upon this industry or this career. It never has,...”
My future, or my roots?
“You view life objectively and rarely let extraneous matters cloud your thinking.”
I’m too realistic; it pains me.
I don't care what I look like.
Neither should you.
Anonymous asked: Where do you your fashion inspiration?
“If you’re going through hell, keep going.”
51. Realize that the harder you work, the luckier you will become.
“I read “The Life of Erica Kawas”. I got to page 7 and it turned into...”
musicinspiresbeauty asked: Sure :] It's a pretty song.
Are you talking about the part where he starts.. for lack of a better word.. banging on the piano? And you figured out the intro?
Are you talking about the part where he starts.. for lack of a better word.. banging on the piano? And you figured out the intro?
36. If you hate doing it, stop it.
“Promise you’ll never forget me, ever. Not even when I’m a hundred.”
While McMurphy laughs. Rocking farther and farther backward against the cabin top, spreading his laugh out across the water—laughing at the girl, the guys, at George, at me sucking my bleeding thumb, at the captain back at the pier and the bicycle rider and the service-station guys and the five thousand houses and the Big Nurse and all of it. Because he knows you have to laugh at the things that...
I smell the distinct fragrance of pine needles and sandalwood you doused yourself in, moments before my arrival. I smell the spot on your neck where there is always an overpowering amount, and the chemicals are evident. I smell the mangled metal in your left ear, and the thick black ink that has seeped into your skin over time. I smell your knotted tie and starched collar, faintly stained with the...
I think I need a break from this whole internet phase.
I find it amusing that I painted my room yellow, thinking it would make me happier. It just irritates me.
Don’t you know that I belong arm in arm with you, baby?
Brooklyn will tear us apart.
I am convinced that I’m slowly dying. Faster than others.
It is said that beauty comes out of sadness; a poem, a song, a painting, a new perception of things.
Then what is this? Because it is not sadness.
In the winter, I need you around. I still feel sorrow, and I still write it down.
When I die, will you close my casket? Make it glass so I can see who cared.
I can’t look my dad in the eyes. I feel as if I’ve let him down in so many ways.
My little sister is my role model.
“Be careful what you pretend to be, because you are what you pretend to be.”
King
You are perched upon your aurulent throne as I burst through the threshold in shackles. The guards attempt to hinder my doggedness, restraining me with all their competence.
I, a former sovereign, beseech for liberation from the manacles of my misery. Solely you have the prestige to release me.
For I once sipped from a golden chalice and bathed in the opulent air, just as you have. Just as...