HOLLYWOOD HILLS —
☼ caitlan fifteen dreamer awkward
music headphones sleeping writing
this moment no other bittersweet
umbrellas gumboots nostalgia
coffee subways sunshine rain
city lights urban fantasy romance
acoustic indie classical poetry
infatuated obsessive compulsive
one plus two is me and you.

AND SUBURBAN THRILLS —
♥ emilie autumn the academy is
red jumpsuit apparatus savage garden
the rocket summer badly drawn boy
dashboard confessional amber pacific
bright eyes damone paramore eisley
exit this side eve six femme fatality
goo goo dolls lovedrug new radicals muse
plus forty four prozzak porcelain and the tramps
taking back sunday i am ghost shiny toy guns.
die mannequin keane mest boys like girls

♥ charles de lint holly black ellen hopkins
stephen king zanisha angelkairi january blue
yell leader lyrics tamora pierce bordertown
francesca lia block.

AND YOU —
☼ upcoming:

I’m the kind of girl who dyes her hair in rainbows and plays guitar on the side of the street for cash. I play your saddest songs because mine aren’t worth the breath and you just wish you were me. I fall in love, but it’s the love you find in the bottom of a bottle, at the tip of a needle, at the edge of a cigarette. It’s addicting and it’s amazing, but it isn’t real and you’d think a kid who’s grown up in darkened alleys and crumbling subway stations would be able to know the difference between scapegoat love and the triple time heartbeats she only hears about.

I couldn’t though, and that’s why I fell (crashed and burned so hot it almost didn't hurt) for perfection and sunrises encased in ink black hair and a lip ring. The boy who followed the cracks in the pavement because he had nothing left to guide him. The boy who walked the canyons in my heart.

Even though I’m not mature, despite being seventeen, and even though I run in circles to grasp faeries, and even though I wear clothes the colours of filtered white light, I know what love is. Even a child can know love, but they can only know the love they are given their whole lives.

And while I may have only known fake love, tried and untrue, I still knew it. And since I only knew, back then, what was forced, I loved hard, because it was so new, and it was the best fucking loving any of you had ever received.

I’m the kind of girl you’ll love to hate.

Still want to be me?