spaceskramz said: So many questions/comments come to mind... 1.) What's your middle name? 2.) You're probably right... 3.) Oh my gah I'm in a DIY band called Absent and I've been trying to find a place to play in Philly for awhile now. 4.) That's stellar! I can with Napoleon Dynamite (fav movie). 5.) That's exactly the only reason I haven't started making a zine. 6.) Dude, I study music business too. But at a community college. In York. Lowest of the lows. Anyway, let's be friends?

1. Anne
2. Trust me… It’s a “top 5 albums on a desert island” definite
3. When? Where are you from?
4. Your mom likes Napoleon Dynamite.
5. Just do it (swish)
6. What is a friend? Do you have to pay for it? How much?

spaceskramz said: You seem pretty rad. Tell me about yourself?

My initials are actually RAD.
I’d bet money that I’ve listened to Good Charlotte’s the Young and the Hopeless album more times in the last month than you have in your whole life.
I book and help run a bunch of Philly DIY shows.
I can recite roughly 97% of the dialogue to 10 Things I Hate About You with or without the movie playing.
My fear of doing anything poorly or wrong often stops me from learning anything new.

I’m a narcissistic, self-loathing, music business major at an art school with no idea what she’s doing today or for the rest of her ultimately meaningless life.


my first spoken word record is finished!
you can listen for free or download it for $2 on bandcamp. physical copies are $5 and come in a handmade pouch with a rat patch and track list written on handmade paper!

personality inventory, 2014
i. canyon
ii. i’ll ask for help when i figure out how to
iii. blisters
iv. listmaker
v. the way i remember everything ft. rachel dispenza
vi. i will leave my loaded words to rot


My very talented friend Anna Ladd released her first spoken word album today! I was fortunate enough to contribute writing/speaking/mixing on one of the tracks. It would mean a lot to both of us if you’d give the record a listen!

My sadness feels extraordinary,
because I foolishly believe it is special.

Falsely, I pretend I am the only one
who spends days in bed, writhing
beneath the sheets
with a pit in my stomach and a pain in my chest,
as if the same fate doesn’t lie
dormant in all the other rooms of this house.

The longing for something else,
something better,
lingers within these four walls,
but it is not my own.

This anguish permeates throughout
the apartment,
down the block,
out into the world,
infecting both friend and foe

My despondency is not my own,
yet that brings no relief.
— On Brooding

moonshaddow said: Your poems and other writings are hitting me right in the chest tonight. They're perfect.

Thank you, that is so incredibly kind.