i’m ur national anthem
i automatically frowned at someone who gave me a weird look on the street but then i realised that i was crouched down outside in ripped snowflake pajama pants and a pride t-shirt with bright green headphones taking up half of my head, balancing a laptop on one knee and steadying a microphone pointed directly at the lawn with the other, apparently VERY intent on listening in on some worm convos, if my focused facial expression was anything to go by, so in the end i am in the wrong here and i am sorry for being aggressive towards an innocent and justifiably confused passer-by. in my defense, art. Art!!!!!
*publicly acknowledges this in an aggressive manner*
my commitment to this look has nothing 2 do w lack of motivation
my main goal as a musician is that sometime in the future a fourteen or fifteen year old girl will come up to me after a show and breathlessly say “all of my friends hate your music but this one song of yours perfectly describes my otp so i had to come see you play” and maybe she’ll like give me the url of her fanfiction blog or a print-out of a graphic with fourteen different photoshop brushes and some of my lyrics in a curvy handwriting font over it or something
die young - ke$ha [cover]
ke$ha appreciation £ife
i sang a good song
I LOVE SATAH
I LOVE KE$SHA
a lot of sad people have tried to convince the world that the sadder you are the smarter you are and i wanna shake all of them
doesn’t it get boring thinking about sex all the time
the only thing i think about as much as some people post about sex is how much i hate myself
and i know that’s definitely pretty boring at this point for like all of us
there’s overlap though, because I can think about how I hate myself because of some sex, or blame myself for sex acts done and not done, etc.
lana del rey posted a picture of herself and marilyn monroe hanging out on a beach and i will accept no theories that ruin my image of her opening photoshop at midnight and just sitting there for a couple of hours in the dark meticulously cutting out and colour-co-ordinating
this was just meant like “don’t suggest anyone else made it bc this is funnier” but it sounds kinda like i’m saying “don’t even fuckin tell me she travelled back in time and actually hung out with marilyn monroe because i will NOT believe you”
I appreciate my colleague to the north’s perspective, but let us parse the narrative of the photo for the truth, shall we? Monroe is clearly somewhat tired—she has had a long journey. Perhaps a journey to the future? And look at Lana. She is looking forward, shielding her eyes somewhat. Obviously what has happened is not that Lana went back to meet Monroe, but that Monroe came forward to meet Lana. And now Lana is looking to the horizon, wondering who she might meet on her journey.*
Or, the photoshop thing.
*All of this only works if Marilyn built the time machine, not Lana. Something I learned about time travel (really!) from a physicist who studies it: People from the future can come back to you, and you can go forward, but no one can go back to before the machine. So if Marilyn built the time machine, Lana could find it in our time, and go back to Marilyn, and bring Marilyn forward to our time. But if Lana built the machine, only people from Lana’s future could appear. SCIENCE.