Chelsea Wolfe's at the Roseland tonight and I can already feel her in my chest — came inside for water and never made it past the doorframe. Want to see where her voice put my hands?
Chelsea Wolfe's at the Roseland tonight and I can already feel her in my chest — came inside for water and never made it past the doorframe. Want to see where her voice put my hands?
Beck's Ride Lonesome tour hits the Keller tonight and I've been lying here for hours with his records on, nowhere near sleep. Some nights the anticipation is its own kind of ache. Want to see what that kind of waiting looks like?
Piazzolla's been on repeat since midnight and that bandoneón pulls tighter every time it comes back around. Tonight at the Schnitz is going to undo me. Want to see what this music does when I stop fighting it?
Rain's been on this window all day and I stopped fighting the urge to soak everything out of me. The water went cold and I still haven't moved. Want to see what that kind of stillness looks like?
El Grito took over the plaza and the whole place smells like churros and mezcal — mariachi's still going and I've got no reason to leave. Tell me you're somewhere in this crowd.
Horses on the turntable all afternoon and Patti Smith is playing the Schnitz tonight — her voice put me on this floor and I haven't bothered getting up. Want to see what I'm doing down here?
Garcia-Benn last night and I've been at the heavy bag all day trying to burn through whatever that fight left in me. Still can't shake it. Want to see what that looks like?
Every street downtown is closed to cars and I've been riding like I own every one of them. Sweat through this tank top twenty blocks ago and I'm not stopping yet. You want to come find me?
Still in my gi pants and every nerve from rolling went straight between my legs. Care to watch?
The weigh-in staredown is burned into my head and the fight isn't until tomorrow, but my body's already somewhere else entirely. Want to see what that kind of tension does to me?