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And Pray and Sing, and Tell Old Tales...

and Laugh at Gilded Butterflies

Created on 2009-05-21 20:43:04 (#20216682), last updated 2009-06-16

0 comments received, 38 comments posted

Basic Info
Name:Allie
Birthdate:04-01
Location:Buffalo, New York, United States

Contact:

acrylic.cherries@hotmail.com
Bio


SO THIS IS ME...
I'm a twenty-something student currently pursuing a Ph.D in Russian Literature and I have a 4-year-old son who means everything to me and is the light of my life. c: To be honest, I've never been the biggest music fan, it's just one of my weird quirks... However, I do listen to a lot of opera. I have since I was younger, so that's nothing new.
OTP: Remus/Sirius!! They're the reason I got involved in the HP fandom. However, I read a very large variety of pairings, and I really can't name them all. They're too many. I watch old Hollywood movies. And I'm talking old movies. As in, Casablanca, Gone with the Wind, and other classics. As is obvious by my journal, I'm new to the HP fandom,, but I do hope to become more active, by, well... actually writing stuff. I find small talk annoying. I always have and I've had to do that way too much in life, especially with my parents. But, that doesn't mean, though, that I don't like talking to people in general. Because I do. A lot. I also like making friends. If it wasn't for friends, I wouldn't even be going to school right now. So feel free to add me, it's no big deal.

LIKE A STORY TOLD BY THE FAULT LINES AND THE SOIL.
So that is how I learned the lesson that everyone is alone. And your eyes must do some raining if you are ever going to grow. But when crying don't help and you can't compose yourself. It is best to compose a poem, an honest verse of longing or a simple song of hope. That is why I'm singing... Baby don't worry cause now I got your back. And every time you feel like crying, I'm gonna try and make you laugh. And if I can't, if it just hurts too bad, then we will wait for it to pass and I will keep you company through those days so long and black. And we'll just keep working on the problem we know we'll never solve of Love's uneven remainder, our lives are fractions of a whole. But if the world could remain within a frame like a painting on a wall. Then I think we would see the beauty then. We would stand staring in awe at our still lives posed like a bowl of oranges, like a story told by the fault lines and the soil.
- "Bowl of Oranges" Bright Eyes


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