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I am a New Artist
Rejectoflovecity
Female/United Kingdom
Why I Am Here
No reason given yet
Last Visit: 337 weeks ago
Reject
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Misc. Zone
This is the place where you can personalize your profile!
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First of all, I'd like to thank you for the devwatch on my account and then to letcha' know that that account is dead. X_x If you want to continue watching me, my new account is here ---->
Hiya, this is on her new account Thanks for watching me on my old account but I'll hardly be there anymore so please come and check my new gallery out.
Thanks a lot for the fav! I hope your hiccups go away soon. I know a girl who had them chronically. They really never stopped, so she had to take medication. It was so weird...
-- Hope incubates in the warm loam of every armpit. --Tom Wolfe
yeah it's really too bad that instruments are so damn expensive. whenever i teach violin to people i do it for free. but it's good to use your voice as an instrument because it's part of you.
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bits clung to the lungs of the smokers like a burnt collage bits fell to the ground, surrounding them in a soft dust of black ash bits swirled around them in mystic arabesques stained teeth and stained eyes and stained souls gleaming through the haze
i love john frusciante, he's one of my favorite people in the world. he understand life and music better than anyone i've ever encountered. and rhcp is my favorite band.
do you sing or play any instruments as well as write songs?
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bits clung to the lungs of the smokers like a burnt collage bits fell to the ground, surrounding them in a soft dust of black ash bits swirled around them in mystic arabesques stained teeth and stained eyes and stained souls gleaming through the haze
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~berndi
Clubs:
=sunsets
~big-cats-club
=Zoo-photographers
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...something witty and eyecatching
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"It is usually the imagination that is wounded first, rather than the heart; it being much more sensitive."~ Henry David Thoreau
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Hope incubates in the warm loam of every armpit. --Tom Wolfe
--
bits clung to the lungs of the smokers like a burnt collage
bits fell to the ground, surrounding them in a soft dust of black ash
bits swirled around them in mystic arabesques
stained teeth and stained eyes and stained souls
gleaming through the haze
do you sing or play any instruments as well as write songs?
--
bits clung to the lungs of the smokers like a burnt collage
bits fell to the ground, surrounding them in a soft dust of black ash
bits swirled around them in mystic arabesques
stained teeth and stained eyes and stained souls
gleaming through the haze