so... the beatles are pretty much my most favourite band in the whole wide world. so much so that on our family trip to london, my parents were convinced to take a side trip to liverpool just for the beatles tour. magical mystery tour! I loved it so much. I mean it was the most mundane things ever, like "Paul grew up in this house" but it's just... being star-struck by the smallest things. 

the strawberry field that Lennon wrote about in Strawberry Fields Forever. everything about is insanely mystical and mysterious: the overgrown shrubbery, the closed red gate, the light in the distance. yet it's not scary... it makes me feel like there is hope 

the real cavern club was torn down. a new pub was built on top of the site of the original, complete with kick-ass John Lennon statue. there are more pictures of their houses & stuff but I must go search for them. not sure where they are. their houses are all adorned with plaques saying that they've lived there... not only that, Paul McCartney regularly goes back to his house. apparently he was home two weeks before we reached :(

is there a life in bumming around in bed, singing along to beatles songs? like keeping their legacy alive through a convicted whispering of their lyrics. why do I love the beatles? there has not been a single time where I've listened to a beatles song and not felt better than I was already feeling. you know that welling kind of feeling right before you're about to cry? like your body is filling up with something and you can no longer hold it in? it feels like that, when I listen to the beatles, like their music is filling me up to the brim and it feels good