Picture story: I really miss Elliott Smith.

Smith looks like he's a true apathetic badass, significantly similar to the guy he's bearing his chest of: James Dean (at least, that's who that pic looks like). For this picture, I dedicate:
Elliott Smith - Angeles

Because like Dean, Smith clearly doesn't see the sexy appeal about the ever popular city of California.


This photo is courtesy of Autumn De Wilde, the photographer/author of Elliott Smith. There's a heart on his right (left, facing us), which is no secret that Smith wails about the pains of heartaches in his songs, especially in the magnificent XO, my fave of his. Two songs can be dedicated for this one:
Elliott Smith - Pitseleh; as well as

Because we all know Elliott never "meant to hurt us" despite the fact that he thinks talking about love can be a "fucking joke."


Oh, but he gets over his love curse and turns it into a blessing. Even though he knows he'll fuck it up sooner or later because of his inability to allow himself to be emotionally vulnerable, he enjoys the thrill of this ride for this moment. I dedicate:
Elliott Smith - In the Lost and Found (Honky Bach)

Because this song conveys the happiness and sadness of love, but in the end, we're all OK and happy.


I can't help but think of Christina Aguilera in her "Xtina" days because she's all like, "This is me, stripped." But I like Elliott's version better. He's still himself, not giving a fuck, tats all exposed as well as bird chest. He's an alcoholic, drug addict and cigarette addict. And he knows people know that, but he's still being him and continues to do his thing. And so, I dedicate:
Elliot Smith - St. Ides Heaven

Because everyone has their vices, there's no such thing as a perfect human, so let's hold off on the judgment, please. Thanks.

And now, we have Elliott Smith in his lonesome, playing his solemn keys on the classic black and white instrument. Even though his music has touched millions of lives thanks to the reminder of how anyone can go from up to down and right back up to down to up to--OK, we got it. Some people conquer it, some people cannot handle it, and unfortunately, Elliott Smith couldn't handle it. Then again, there's the whole murder conspiracy thing, so you never know. Nevertheless, I wasn't there so I cannot go on pretending that I played hoops with the cat from time to time to talk about how deeply depressed he was or how he felt so inadequate to end his life, because, like everyone who only knew him through his Beatles-esque melodies and saccharine sweet crooning glossed over gruesome lyrics, I am unfortunately in the dark on this case. And so, I dedicate:
Elliott Smith - Between The Bars

Because you'll always feel like you cannot overcome, and so you may say to yourself, "You won't, but you might...either way, let's drown our sorrows in alcohol at a bar." But then you never know who will be your saint for the night and make you forget your sorrows just by someone simply saying, "Y'know...I like you. You're allright."

And boy, is Elliott Smith allright with me. Rest, brother, rest.