February 2010
49 posts
“Wow, Lady Gaga didn’t win anything, Tasia. Dayumm. Those assholes.”
– My mom to me regarding the Grammys
January 2010
26 posts
formspring.me/knobzie
Why not?
I know I said goodbye to you, Tumblr, butYouTube had unblocked the T&S video I created with a friend recently. Or so I thought. I got really excited about it, but it turns out it isn’t working. It says “blocked in some countries” and then on a different page says blocked worldwide.
It has toyed with my emotions. Fuck you, YouTube copyright management.
Dear Tumblr,
The time we’ve spent together has been lovely, but the new time has come where we must part our ways. Perhaps we will find each other again some day. Until then…
So long, and thanks for all the fish.
Signed, Knobzie
I deleted all of this post except for the below sentence:
“And I’m typing texts and deleting them immediately after.”
This is my morning.
A smack in the face tonight. Cutting ties, too.
I might’ve drank a bit before my last tumblr post.
(I should have kissed you when we were alone.)
You’re on my mind. Cheers, darlin’,
I’ve barely slept this past week. On the plane to California as I write this.
Going to leave New York City out of my mind for a week.
Moving back home tonight.
I half expected your presence today. Now I really am reaching, huh?
I deserve this anguish on my house.
Tonight? Inglorious Basterds screening at Hunter College. Then “I am a Fat Cat” screening at the Bowery Poetry Club.
A day on my own, yes.
Hah, so my landlord never counter signed the lease and the brokers have been pushing us off. The super says nothing will be removed or fixed in our apartment. My roommates are upset, as am I. One is heading to the broker’s office to see if they have the signed lease. If not, she’s demanding our money back. This will either a.) scare them or b.) leave us without an apartment.
Well,...
Oh, and in a week I’ll be across the country in California never wanting to return here again.
It’s kind of funny how life repeats itself.
Maybe tonight’s dreams will be better.
Wrote a new song a week ago, but I’m awaiting a friend to put piano to it. Kind of excited for that. I was listening to 1 John 4:16 by the Mountain Goats and fell in love with the simplicity of it, and yet its lyrics are ambiguously confessional. My favourite, if you haven’t noticed yet.
I’ve got this awful recording of my song, but it’s no where near ready to be put up...
You’re really good at faking it. Luckily, so am I.
We are capable of holding such heavy secrets.