"My name is Huda Husna and I write books on travel. This is my blog". Heh, I wish.
hdhsnsini.
Dear Muhammad Arai,
I’m sorry. I tried. Jim Morrison was very good looking and that’s all I can think of him. End of the Night gives me the creeps and other tracks in the 1967 album are so not my cup of tea. But please bear in mind that I will always look up to you. We may have different tastes in music but I will always want to walk the path you took, always want to have the courage you had, always want to love like you did. And I will always dream like you did. Please stay in my heart and inspire me.
Love,
Huda Husna
Yo rich people, I need some money to buy a copy of hitRECorderly. Help a friend here, man.
…
James Dean
i love him so much GOSHHHH sometimes i wish i waaas born in the 50s
Ladies and Gentlemen!
Our first issue of hitRECorderly came out. It’s our updated and remixed version of the Brothers’ Grimm’s LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD — complete with writing, illustration, poetry, and paper cut outs!
This book is really, really beautiful. I’m quite proud of the work our community made and I encourage you to check it out.
Single issues are now on-sale for $20.
<3
J
Little Red Riding Hood Redux (HitRECorderly, Issue 1)
I was so excited to find this in my mailbox yesterday. I went a little nuts taking pictures, but there’s so much beautiful art and writing in this volume, HOW COULD I NOT?Subscribe to the HitRECorderly here.
The Lizard King himself, James (Jim) Douglas Morrison
He revolutionized rock music as The Doors’ lead singer with his intense vocals, crazy stage antics, and hypnotizing song lyrics. Despite his popularity as a musician, he only wanted to be a poet since poetry was his main love in life. In death, he had his wish granted for he was buried in the poets section at the Pere Lachaise cemetery in Paris.
Plus, look at that face, that hair and those eyes…he was hot!
WOI NI LA DIA BINTANG PUJAAN ARAI! HANDSOME JUGA YA.
Why oh why?
Why can’t I get you off my mind?
You burn me, you kill me.
Why oh why?
Why do this happen?
You stab me, you kill me.
Why oh why?
Why am I trying to write a poem?
You did this, you kill me.
Alright, this is not a suicide note. It’s supposed to be a poem. There, on the 8th line.
Happy weekend.
(via oh-yeke)
