Waitin' for the train to come in..

Waitin' for my man to come home. I've counted every minute of each livelong day, been so melancholy since he went away. I've shed a million teardrops or more, waitin' for the one I adore. I'm waitin' in the depot by the railroad track-lookin' for the choo-choo train that brings him back. I'm waitin' for my life to begin, waitin' for the train to come in.
Waiting...
Waiting...
I'm waitin' for the train to come in.

I got it bad...(and that ain't good)

I'm feeling mighty lonesome , haven't slept a wink. I walk the floor and watch the door, and in between I drink black coffee. Love's a hand me down brew, I'll never know a Sunday in this weekday room. I'm talking to the shadows from 1 o'clock til 4. And lord, how slow the moments go when all I do is pour black coffee. Since the blues caught my eye, I'm hanging out on Monday my Sunday dreams to dry. Now a man is born to go a lovin'. A woman's born to weep and fret-And drown her past regrets in coffee and cigarettes. I'm moaning all the morning, and mourning all the night. And in between it's nicotine, and not much heart to fight-Black coffee. Feelin' low as the ground. It's driving me crazy just waiting for my baby to maybe come around... around. I'm waiting for my baby to maybe come around. My nerves have gone to pieces, my hair is turning gray. All I do is drink black coffee
since my man's gone away...

All I seem to want to listen to is amazing 1950s jazzy ella, julie, peggy, ruth ect. So many beautifully heartbreaking songs. I pine to exist when this becomes popular again. Until I perfect my time machine i'll just relate better to lyrics written 60 years ago...

Unhappy (belated)Birthday.

So I come home to some legit mail tonight (usually I get KFC coupons and goodlife fitness flyers) However I was truly confused as to its contents. You see, I am expecting two packages however one of which I only ordered yesterday, and the other package I'm expecting is to contain 2 posters so I was mildly concerned when I saw a package in my mailbox shaped like this:

However once I saw the website it was from I had a prettty good idea what it might contain...



And I was right! But I didn't think it would be exactly the shirt I wanted! Thank you so much vik! And so far all the presents i've gotten this year for my birthday have been smiths-related but you can be assured I do not mind. Expect to see me in this at the next smith fits...

I don't even know what It's like not to go back to you.

Decided am for sure going to purchase myself that knife necklace I posted a while back.
Also bought myself this Aritzia Wilfred hooded zip batwing studded sweater I've been pining after for months. And incase you're saying 'Katie you already have two of these'-the other two I have don't have a hood or zip. So shut it)



Also bought myself these (almost?) Tbar mary-jane wedges. Haven't as of yet decided if i'm going to keep them. Thoughts?


Staying home alone again on another saturday night (because tonight is just like any other night, that's why you're on your own tonight) At least I can look forward to Law&Order not being a re-run. Here's hoping.

4 stages.

Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression...That's as far as i've got. "And just when you think you're over it...it comes back."

more wants.

Usually don't like necklaces much at all, but I adore thisss. Late birthday present anyone?

want/need;

there is no distinction between those two words for me.

I've wanted these rings forever, but only ever saw one set in store once-and they were microscopically tiny and didn't even fit on my pinky! Why are they now on sale?! Why do I live in canada and would need to pay $25 to ship them?! Why do I kind of want to buy them anyway?!

Ever since my baby been gone.

I found out for myself I don't want nobody else. And I tried and tried and tried and I just can't make my way. And I prayed and prayed and prayed that he'd come back to me someday. If he'd just come back to me, I'll be good as I can be. I will treat my baby right, mornin' noon and night. Lord I won't be satisfied till I have him by my side. Ever since my baby been gone I sure had a hard time livin' alone...

waste; because nothing ever mattered.

Everything tonight feels incredibly strange. My apartment feels like somewhere unfamiliar, somewhere outside my window something is burning because it smells like fire. My fingers also smell like perfume, but it isn't mine. Everytime you wake up next to me I swear it will never happen again, but it does, and I don't understand what you don't see. My birthday seems like a blip-like it never even took place. I'm listening to the in ear park album and I can't tell if it simply compliments my mood or is a catalyst for how insane I feel. And I should be watching hours of lynda illustrator tutorials but I can't concentrate. I can't stop thinking about where you are each minute and what you're thinking. This all becomes increasingly more consuming and i'm terrified of what that might mean. And my mother made me a chair. And I keep finding these great old pictures of children. (old makes me think of nostalgia and that is a term I now care nothing for whatsoever and maybe even as far as hate) And i'm a liar (but you already knew that, didn't you?) I feel exceedingly ill at ease.




And in the morning comes, you don't need to be so honest.
I cursed these legs I walked on.
No one does it like you. I tried so hard.
But no one does it like you.
But I tried so hard.
I tried so hard.

in my ears my blood is just roaring.

No walls can keep me protected. No sleep, nothing inbetween me and the rain. And you can't save me now, I'm in the grip of a hurricane. I'm gonna blow myself away. I'm going out, I'm gonna drink myself to death. And in the crowd I see you with someone else, I brace myself, 'cause I know it's going to hurt, but I like to think at least things can't get any worse. No home,
I don't want shelter, no calm, nothing to keep me from the storm. And you can't hold me down, 'cause I belong to the hurricane, It's gonna blow us all away.

Why did my parents let me listen to Morrissey?

What came first, the music or the misery? People worry about kids playing with guns, or watching violent videos, that some sort of culture of violence will take them over. Nobody worries about kids listening to thousands, literally thousands of songs about heartbreak, rejection, pain, misery and loss.

You’ve got me stuck on repeat.

And I just can’t seem to break free. And I don’t remember how it started, and I don’t know how to stop. But every time I reach the bottom something pulls me right back to the top. Every time I try to break free, then something comes along to intervene. My heart’s skipping, skipping and I don’t know why. I know after all but every time I try , every time I try something pulls me back to the start. Repeat.