(different colours made of tears)

Sep. 24th, 2010 01:30 pm
riverdresses: (☂ easier to float than to stand)
(lots of silly to say later ; but my susan fanmix is up!)

Lou Reed's voice.

It's like

.

.

.

sex.

Intense, dark sex in a dim blue room with raggedy, sheer, black fabrics strung up about the room.

Even in the bookshop, so busy & populated, Lou's voice is blissfully chilling me out here.

I am calm.

Just chilled out, blissed out, calm.

(Nico's songs make me feel so pleasantly sleepy ; she's wonderfully funereal-sounding)

I want this shit on vinyl. Just chill out & listen to this shit on raspy, clicky, creaky vinyl.

(Jesus Christ, his voice. Fuck yes.)
  • I think we've been in here a bit too long. I feel scattercracked
  • listening to The Velvet Underground ♦ Venus in Furs
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abandon hope all who enter here

Elizabeth (Betsy). Twenty-two, almost twenty-three, but perpetually seventeen. Whirls back & forth between vulgarity & delicacies like a dervish proper & has been known to disappear for months on end. Worshipper of Carroll, devotee of Lovecraft & BPAL hoarder absolute. Destined for the madhouse.

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