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but sometimes, somehow, the moon finds a cradle in traffic lights

and it works out...

26 October 1986
External Services:
  • painkillers@livejournal.com

i'm sorry, little darlings, sugarhearted people, i have nothing to offer you but broken glass. i can't write anymore.
i just use this to read you all, don't take me off

(and no, don't add me if you're not going to care)

(summer) lust, addiction to life, all of wuthering heights, amélie, andy warhol, argentina and brazil, ashley olsen (i'm obsessed!), bairro alto, beauty in everything, belén arjona's backstage, blood and veins, boys in black tshirts, c/fuencarral, cheap vodka, city streets at night, constellations underskin, culture against war, dalí on an elephant, dancing with my.eyes closed, drawing hearts on skin, everything that's soft, female hero loneliness, from 12pm to 6am, izquierda unida, kissing standing up, like nothing ever happened, lloraré las penas&dime, lou.reed in leather, madrid's hidden parties, memories from andorra, mrs.dalloway buying theflowers.herself, neruda because ofthe vulcans, notebooks, obscure sciences, passionate obsession, poetry, revolution, rua diario de noticias, sacred like latin, sea as a metaphore, smiles from strangers, soft porn & sex, some kind of fate, songs that save you, spying, stripes, sunglasses at night, the bus from caparica, the.virgin suicides&lost in translation, tides and waves, waking up happy, wanting you to notice, watching people smoke, when jana is online, you mostly late.at.night