I cannot decide if I would rather be Patti Smith, having Bob Dylan swooning, looking into my eyes. Or if I would want to be Bob Dylan swooning, looking into Patti Smith's eyes.
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2009
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May
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- These are the fables on my street.
- Finally.
- These are my thoughts.
- A sneak preview to allydahlberg.com...
- Idea for my new blog logo.
- Everyone one of my homes.
- Oh boy. I took off all of my clothes just sit nake...
- Okay, so I lied. (Official last post of the day)
- My last posting of the day.
- Let the games begin.
- No title
- On the letter from Chelsea.
- Tactile.
- Second Attempt at Textures (Only cropping in photo...
- First Attempt, Magazine Textures for Class (Some P...
- The Ghosty Obsession.
- The stars are a roof above our head.
- Distance has the way of making love understandable.
- A very unflattering and poorly lit depiction..
- And just like me, they long to be, close to you.
- Today I was in my anthropology class, and this rea...
- No title
- I refuse to spend the next two months grieving. I...
- So Akili and I drank what his friend refers to as ...
- An illusion to me now.
- Alphagenia.
- Ghosties.
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May
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