April 2012
28 posts
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Anonymous asked: Where are you from? I'm from Croatia and I read you're coming here this summer, so I was wondering...
Anonymous asked: where are you going this summer, Lana?
i am spending my summer at sea with a sky freckled with stars and sand littered with history.
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Anonymous asked: where would i be able to find an image of you ?
March 2012
53 posts
Anonymous asked: when i read your things and scroll your blog, i see a transparent girl with skin that you can see through, hair that falls like a mask, and piano-player's hands... i don't know why, but i feel like i know you...
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poetry as therapy | the economist
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the minutes in between are only spent reliving the last and imagining the next.
Anonymous asked: Do you get compared to anyone?
Anonymous asked: Will you tell me a story?
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my words have grown limbs and crawled away from me; i will spend the rest of my life chasing them.
Anonymous asked: you are so fucking twee
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channel your inner pocketmouse
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thepocketmouse:
“you listen to the smiths, fleetwood mac, the doors, watch godard movies, and read 1950s literature. you’re the only girl that i have met that respects bukowski. you have a crush on james dean. do you get along with people your own age?”
mothers boyfriend
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i met a one-eyed musician on the train today. his name was leon, and he gave me a flower.
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interviewer: ”what is your favourite word?”
margaret atwood: ”and. it’s so hopeful.”
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Anonymous asked: How would you describe your style, what kind of clothes are you drawn to? And what kind of clothes would you never wear!?
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i like the moon because she’s reliable. i know she’ll always be there.
with humans, there’s no guarantee.
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sometimes i like to play the i-wish-i-looked-like-somebody-else game.
it’s not a very fun game.
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Anonymous asked: are you available?!??!?!
i am going to make a wonderful cat lady some day.
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an old man with a new hat
is running out of pride.
i want to tell the truth
but i don’t know how.
the wind is our best pen
and it blows poetry out of the
water.
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i wait for days and weeks to enter
a feeling that’s had years to leave.
the ocean keeps throwing
questions
it has all the answers to.
a candle lights a room
and dims the stars.
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when all that consoled...
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Anonymous asked: Hello. What do you do when there's nothing left to live for.
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eric clapton & b.b. king; three o’clock...
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Anonymous asked: Please, just do not grow up. Promise me. Begin ungrowing now, tear back the hide to the feathers and keep them there. Sophistication being a kinship with a nothing, and the nothing being death. You still have time, we still have. Never grow up. I swear that you are still seven years old in at least a small infinity of rooms in your mind. & I adore you, unknown, and I don't care if...
it’s midnight and i’m lonely and in pain but seinfeld is on so everything is okay.
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i’m sitting here, alone, mildly concussed, eating jelly beans. my friends are all busy so i’m sitting here, alone, mildly concussed, eating jelly beans.
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“There’s a name for people with an interest in the moon. They’re called lunatics.”
-Anthony Horowitz
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my cheeks were pink and my thoughts were blue.
