When I was a young girl I collected Barbies, and other trademarked dolls, usually representing a movie or television character, like Princess Leia, all three Charlie’s Angels, or Cher. I had boxes of clothing for them, a bright pink jeep and a lemon yellow motor home, and the ultimate “dream house” which had cut out holes in the roof for my hands to reach in, but no stairs or doors to any of the rooms. I had a few “men“, too, Ken with his “real” looking hair and smooth “boy mound“, and Han Solo who had painted on hair, and the outlines of a muscular frame, but still no “boy parts“.
"If you close the door, the night could last for ever. Leave the wineglass out, and drink a toast to never."
Time ticks by slowly, then all at once, speeding by, disappearing into a blur. I want to smash it, the time on the wall, leave nothing but shards of minutes and moments on the hard wood floor. I've had enough of it, enough of time, enough of its reminder of just how long we have been gone. Oh and the calendar, with its slick pages of dreamy photographs, and all those tidy boxes to check off and count, I'd like to rip it to shreds. Tear each page haphazardly, ignoring the perforations, scarring my fingertips in paper cuts in the process. The sting distracts me, turns my attention away briefly, giving me tiny drops of blood to focus on instead of the memory of your face.
Crystal Village (live) :: Pete Yorn originally from the album, Day I Forgot (2003) "You were there, and it was good in the beginning."