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Where the air meets the ocean and the tide meets my feet, you’re a breath of fresh air, you’re the one that I need. I’ll savor your kisses, breathe them into my lungs, squeeze your hand a little tighter, keep your taste on my tongue. Despite all the silence and the dark summer night, this moment couldn’t be more perfect with you by my side. You are the one that I want, you are the one that I need, you are my better half, my everything, you are perfect to me. And because of you I am stronger, a better version of me, so let’s take in this moment, because it is exactly where we’re meant to be.
(via noregretsjust-love)
amandapalmer: tattoos come into my life a lot, but this one broke my heart open. neil and i both see a lot of tattoos of our words and works on people’s skin, and we have lots of weird tattoo anecdotes. last night I signed the inside of a girls thigh at the littlefield show and recommended that she walk home bowlegged because seriously that shit will sweat right the fuck off on a hot New York night. neil proudly tells the tale of the time someone got his signature on their arm in a signing line and then returned to the same signing line three hours later with saran wrap covering the freshly inked proof. some people get my face tattooed on them. that always feels surreally challenging, to look at my own visage staring back at me from somebody else’s arm or back, like knowing I have sister-spy-selves all over the world, hiding under hoodies in the deep winter. if you hadn’t noticed, i’ve been battling a kind of depression for the last few months. circumstances make it pretty understandable, i’m facing some crushing personal and business problems and feeling lonely and at loose ends in pretty much every department. the last time i was this low i was in college - unable to get out of bed and skipping classes. it wasn’t until i escaped the setting that things turned around. maybe tour will help. it never does. anyway, i’m not so fucking depressed that i couldn’t write a song, which was the saving grace of last week, and having the house party in nashville actually directly kicked my ass to finish what i’d started, which was a massive blessing because i have a bad habit of finishing songs 59% and then leaving them for years unless i have an active instant-gratification motivator (usually a show, and even better if its a show for 50 people in a house, where i feel safe to fuck it up). so as i was writing and wandering from the verse into the first chorus, the words “i am bigger on the inside” spilled out and i thought…i can’t fucking use this. can i? it had ricocheted from doctor who into my incredibly dark mood, and i felt conflicted…on the one side my little sobbing song and on the other side, hoards of people in tardis t-shirts. fuck it. yes. and i used the lyric. i played it, two hours after finishing it, for a teeny room of 15 people at the nashville house party and cried through most of the second and third verse. a few days later i flew to milwaukee to play for pride festival. i was having a rough night. the darkness was getting the better of me. against all better judgment (it was an outdoor festival celebration of YAY) i stuck the song towards the end of my set - a quiet, 8-minute introspective and repetitive ukulele song that I couldn’t play through without my throat getting stuck because it was just too fucking sad. the crowd had never heard the song, because it didn’t exist anywhere. i cried through verse two and three again and it was fine except that I went straight into the ukulele anthem afterwards and had a giant shiny glean of weeping-snot on my upper lip for the whole song. whatever. yes. after the show i signed for a few hundred people. a boy asked me to write the chorus lyrics on his chest. the next day, he sent me this picture. he’d had them tattooed. beat that, neil gaiman, i said, as i showed him the tweet, collapsing into a pile of useless blubbering on the floor of my mind. but actually…there is no competition. and this is what i see and understand about him, about me, about you, about doctor who, about coincidence, about the millions of ingredients and chances that lead us to this moment right here where we are facing each other (maybe through a screen, maybe not). we are all connected - there is no way out, nor should there be. say yes. love amanda p.s. the body & the tattoo belong to gavin michael batker, @shizaminnelli on twitter. p.p.s. i hope to record the song soon. stay with me.
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amandapalmer:

tattoos come into my life a lot, but this one broke my heart open.

neil and i both see a lot of tattoos of our words and works on people’s skin, and we have lots of weird tattoo anecdotes. last night I signed the inside of a girls thigh at the littlefield show and recommended that she walk home bowlegged because seriously that shit will sweat right the fuck off on a hot New York night. neil proudly tells the tale of the time someone got his signature on their arm in a signing line and then returned to the same signing line three hours later with saran wrap covering the freshly inked proof.

some people get my face tattooed on them. that always feels surreally challenging, to look at my own visage staring back at me from somebody else’s arm or back, like knowing I have sister-spy-selves all over the world, hiding under hoodies in the deep winter.

if you hadn’t noticed, i’ve been battling a kind of depression for the last few months. circumstances make it pretty understandable, i’m facing some crushing personal and business problems and feeling lonely and at loose ends in pretty much every department. the last time i was this low i was in college - unable to get out of bed and skipping classes. it wasn’t until i escaped the setting that things turned around. maybe tour will help. it never does.

anyway, i’m not so fucking depressed that i couldn’t write a song, which was the saving grace of last week, and having the house party in nashville actually directly kicked my ass to finish what i’d started, which was a massive blessing because i have a bad habit of finishing songs 59% and then leaving them for years unless i have an active instant-gratification motivator (usually a show, and even better if its a show for 50 people in a house, where i feel safe to fuck it up).

so as i was writing and wandering from the verse into the first chorus, the words “i am bigger on the inside” spilled out and i thought…i can’t fucking use this. can i?

it had ricocheted from doctor who into my incredibly dark mood, and i felt conflicted…on the one side my little sobbing song and on the other side, hoards of people in tardis t-shirts. fuck it. yes.

and i used the lyric.

i played it, two hours after finishing it, for a teeny room of 15 people at the nashville house party and cried through most of the second and third verse.

a few days later i flew to milwaukee to play for pride festival. i was having a rough night. the darkness was getting the better of me. against all better judgment (it was an outdoor festival celebration of YAY) i stuck the song towards the end of my set - a quiet, 8-minute introspective and repetitive ukulele song that I couldn’t play through without my throat getting stuck because it was just too fucking sad.

the crowd had never heard the song, because it didn’t exist anywhere. i cried through verse two and three again and it was fine except that I went straight into the ukulele anthem afterwards and had a giant shiny glean of weeping-snot on my upper lip for the whole song. whatever. yes.

after the show i signed for a few hundred people. a boy asked me to write the chorus lyrics on his chest. the next day, he sent me this picture. he’d had them tattooed.

beat that, neil gaiman, i said, as i showed him the tweet, collapsing into a pile of useless blubbering on the floor of my mind.

but actually…there is no competition.

and this is what i see and understand about him, about me, about you, about doctor who, about coincidence, about the millions of ingredients and chances that lead us to this moment right here where we are facing each other (maybe through a screen, maybe not).

we are all connected - there is no way out, nor should there be.

say yes.

love
amanda

p.s. the body & the tattoo belong to gavin michael batker,
@shizaminnelli on twitter.

p.p.s. i hope to record the song soon. stay with me.

Standing Silly: I never really understood all that being in “love” before. Honestly,...

t3ap0t:

I never really understood all that being in “love” before. Honestly, I’d always thought it was silly. I thought it would be full of drama and awkward moments. I thought it was ridiculous when couples call each other pet names or kiss in public with no sense of modesty. I’d always judged the love…

death-limes: black-megallica-shirt: This is not YYH related, but I just felt like you guys need to be aware. I received a call today from a blocked number, who claimed they were from Windows Security Center. The person on the phone - who had a very heavy accent - said that they had noticed that my computer had been downloading malicious content while I was browsing the internet (which how could they even fucking know in the first place). He then asked me to turn on my computer (which it already was, but that’s besides the point) and told me to click and hold the Windows key and the ‘R; key, which opens up the Run window. He then wanted me to enter the following: eventvwr (this stands for “event viewer” which lets you see info about hard/software, system problems, and security on your OS). This is where I hung up. Because, you see, what this asshole didn’t know is that my dad is and IT guy, so I know a few tricks. What he was trying to do was gain remote access to my computer, but do I look like a bitch? Don’t answer that. Unfortunately, some people are - that’s why I’m making this post, so you don’t end up being anybody’s bitch. And it’s not like these assholes just sprang up yesterday; according to my extensive Google research (it wasn’t that extensive, I just like being dramatic) they’ve been around at least since 2009. If you want to know what they sound like, click here for a YouTube video of an actual phone conversation between some dude and a would-be hacker (there is profanity). Microsoft has confirmed that they are a hacker group, and have some preventative tips, though really - it’s 2013, y’all should already know. If you have been scammed or know someone who’s been scammed by these douche bags, click here or here. Signal boost, or don’t. Don’t let me run your life; I just felt you should be aware. This one’s true guys!
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death-limes:

black-megallica-shirt:

This is not YYH related, but I just felt like you guys need to be aware.

I received a call today from a blocked number, who claimed they were from Windows Security Center. The person on the phone - who had a very heavy accent - said that they had noticed that my computer had been downloading malicious content while I was browsing the internet (which how could they even fucking know in the first place). He then asked me to turn on my computer (which it already was, but that’s besides the point) and told me to click and hold the Windows key and the ‘R; key, which opens up the Run window. He then wanted me to enter the following: eventvwr (this stands for “event viewer” which lets you see info about hard/software, system problems, and security on your OS).

This is where I hung up.

Because, you see, what this asshole didn’t know is that my dad is and IT guy, so I know a few tricks. What he was trying to do was gain remote access to my computer, but do I look like a bitch? Don’t answer that.

Unfortunately, some people are - that’s why I’m making this post, so you don’t end up being anybody’s bitch. And it’s not like these assholes just sprang up yesterday; according to my extensive Google research (it wasn’t that extensive, I just like being dramatic) they’ve been around at least since 2009.

If you want to know what they sound like, click here for a YouTube video of an actual phone conversation between some dude and a would-be hacker (there is profanity).

Microsoft has confirmed that they are a hacker group, and have some preventative tips, though really - it’s 2013, y’all should already know. If you have been scammed or know someone who’s been scammed by these douche bags, click here or here.

Signal boost, or don’t. Don’t let me run your life; I just felt you should be aware.

This one’s true guys!

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