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Oh how I want to be free

Sep. 3rd, 2011 | 04:25 pm

Last night I deampt that I was in some trippy camping resort and it was the night of apocolypse and somebody aasked me; "How do you feel?"
and I said, "Wonderful, really calm actually, like a walk in the park on a spring day."
And again they asked me, and I told them; "To be honest, I never get scared, because I know that that doesn't prevent the inevitable. I have regret though. I will be dying without a good friend knowing some important facts."
And then, for the sake of the argument, let's call him X, then X came along out of nowhere, and I thought I was going to smile at him, but I did and then I gave him a huge hug and we sorted everything out and walked around with our arms thrown over eachother, chitchatting, back to best friends, and then we met up with some more friends and got in X's car to go someplace.
And I know it seems like the kind of dream a twelve year old would have, but the feeling of happiness and the smiles on the faces and the tones of the voices were so accurate, so real, I did genuinely believe everything was okay for a minute when I woke up.
And then I drank my tea, and remembered.
Sometimes you should just keep your clothes on and ignore what other parts of your body tell you, because in the end the heart is just a big old horny organ that wants action and human proximity and touch 24/7, and even if your brain thinks, "It's fine, we're best friends, neither of us are ready for or want a relationship at the moment, let alone with eachother, this is just a bit of friendly summer love and it can happen as much as it wants to, and we can stop whenever we want to, too" you can never account for the other person's brain.
So I drank my tea this morning feeling sad, and I smoke this cigarette in my toilet feeling dejected, and later I will smoke a spliff feeling resigned. And that is the cycle, I know myself, and it's fine. It is fine.
I just want to be more than fine.

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Aug. 20th, 2011 | 05:36 pm
mood: flirtyflirty

Post-festival blues.

And all the memories of the pubs
and the clubs and the drugs and the tubs
we shared together,
Will stay with me forever.

But all the highs and the lows
and the to's and the fro's,
They left me dizzy,
Oh won't you please forgive me

AAAAAAAAaaaaaaaghhhhhhhh.... i truly hate this feeling. Well used to it and an expert in positive thinking; uninviting, but not quite as impossible as everyone assumes. However, in the human sense, when I strip away all the
and the dots
and the crosses and the naughts
cause they're not working
i can see i'm hurting.

And it's a pain really, I hate being this emotional. I've been reduced to tears so many times I should really write a handbook; A Few Easy Steps to Pulling 'Fine' Off;
1. Warning signs of tears include; a prickly mess in the back of your throat, a rising sense of hysteria, downwards tugging on the corners of your mouth, blurring of vision, shortage of breath.
2. If you experience any of these symptoms in company (or in the company of anyone other than a trusted friend), excuse yourself politely. It is important to make your excuse brisque and flat; not a trace of emotion can show - "Hey, I gotta go, I'll catch you later." Stand for no questioning - you can always explain yourself later - and split.
3. Upon doing this, exit the area IMMEDIATELY. If you feel an uncontrolable swelling inside of you, it is permissable to break into a run, but try to opt for more subtle ways of covering the outburst, like sheilding your face with an arm from the sun, or ducking into the loo or behind a foodstand.
4. Once you have reached a secure destination (your room, a tent, a bench on the top of a remote hill overlooking tranquil rivers), and only then, may you let loose and howl.
5. Depending on your chosen safe location, varying volumes of crying ought to be taken into consideration. If you're alone in your house, the noise can be fairly enormous. If you are in a tent in a campsite with friends, a minimum whimper can be audible - yours truly can cry silently.

It's pretty sad.
But I'm pretty happy.
It's good to be able to feel things. I'm pretty lucky.

In other news, the only member of Jane's Addiction to show at Reading Festival was Dave Navarro, apologizing on behalf of the band - Perry had gotten ill and was unable to sing.

Having just begun to feel my 0.7 grams of md kicking in, I was absolutely depressed. There are few words that would adequately describe my misery. Navarro was looking sexy as hell, but even that wasn't enough to make up for the next three hours I spent, high as a kite, with Franki and two boys we brought back to our tents, attempting conversation. Eventually Franki and her guy left to do stuff in her tent while I was left with Big Arms, who kissed me a little but I couldn't bring myself to go further. This was half because I had gotten to that point where I felt as though I'd had enough action for the holiday, and just wanted to go back to June. It was also because I was still in the throws of a great, Jane's-less high that was causing me to flick my wrists and jiggle my leg constantly. But mostly, I kept my clothes on because by the time Franki and Loud Mouth had gone into her tent, I was slowly sobering up, and Big Arms was revealed to have Big Ears and Little Head and Pathetic Wet Personality.

Let's talk more about the festival. I saw Madness live - they had this incredibly frank, sensual energy that I absolutely loved; got a thing for older guys, I guess.

The bathrooms. Oh, those bathrooms. There may come a day when I freely speak of the horrors within without a shudder, openly, with no pain. That day is not today however; today I leave it to your imagination.

But IMAGINE swimmingpools of shit, sick and piss floating below you, filling the entire area for circa 20 feet with the smell.

11.41am: Just got back from a party I really didn't want to go to. At around 2am my friends Sofia and Oly pulled me off Oly's sofa where I was comfortably collapsed, stoned out of my mind, and dragged me out on the town. This, along with handing me a spray-paint can, turned out to be a very weird idea. Milan now has several aliens, a phrase on the back of some scaffolding that reads "SCRATCH YOUR NAME INTO THE FABRIC OF THIS WORLD", and several of Sofia's stenciled hands.
We arrived to Brera, which is this street lined with fancy bars, art galleries, designer shops, and men in red trousers and women with legs that go on forever. Tonight, or rather this morning, the scene was the same as ever, only everyone was more drunk.
We went to the park behind Brera, where we all go to smoke up, and hung out there for a minimal period of time (I spotted an old boyfriend embarassingly drunk and was trying to avoid him). We then went back to Callum's house where we stayed awake until around 4. Then everyone passed out - Sofia on the sofa, Oly on the sofa, and me being flirtatiously spooned by Luc (although I couldnt bring myself to do anything) and later Andy snuck into my bed and tried to do stuff - although I couldnt bring myself to do anything there, either.

And alarm bells ring
when you say your heart still sings
when you're with me.
Won't you please forgive me?

I'm questioning my auditory capacity at the moment, only I'm not, really. I am, as usual, fucked. But there is no room or need for questioning.

Well, I'm going to go pass out under my pillows now.

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tinsle town

Dec. 25th, 2010 | 01:48 pm

om nom nom nom nom nom nom food is the enemy; drugs are not the answer - they are the question. "yes" is the answer.

shit shit shittification. my mom just caught me after i had a personal in the bathroom stoned off my fucking nut!! i'm shaking all over man... jeezzzz. i cant even type properly!!
merry christmas, who's to say i can't eat all the chocolates and drink all the wine and daydream about the things i am missing? merry christmas.

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If I had my way, I'd never get over you

Sep. 10th, 2010 | 02:10 pm
mood: depresseddepressed

So.... I got to dream about X last night. Again.
Which was fantastic, right up to the whole Waking-ip-and-realizing-that-none-of-it-had-really-happened-and-I-was-alone-again part.
It's terrible. They're coming back more and more frequently.
On the bright side, this time I slid into another dream just after the dream with X, so I actually woke up while people were trying to lure me into sneaky grass and tempt me with pastries and the rocks and trees were helping my family members follow me as a I tried to sneak off to have a cigarette... So what I'm trying to say is that I was able to feel some relief upon awkakening.
Still... If I had it my way, I'd spend my life asleep. Everything... is so much better there. It's a place where everything can be anything and nothing has to make sense and, for that same absurd reason, everything does.
But anyway. Going back to X. I miss him.
I mean, to how many people can you say "When you showed me myself, I became someone else" and actually mean it?
And that's not it, either.
But he's gone, and that's for the better, because if he was still present in my life, eventually he'd die, and that would break my heart.
Then again, this way when he dies, I won't know. I won't even be able to go to his funeral.
And the only thing that scares me more than living in a world without X is living in a world without X and not knowing.
I need a cigarette.
Over and out - oh hey, that's ironic isn't it?

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It appears as though the clouds that swalowed me in Sweden have followed me from Sweden

Aug. 15th, 2010 | 05:36 pm
mood: complacentcomplacent

i'm pretty sure there was something in that green. a bit of white maybe, probably nothing stronger. the comedown shouldnt be this harsh, but then again i get waves like this every now and then.
i know that even if i cleaned my room i would not feel better. what is there for me to do? go for a walk, smoke my cigarettes... there's nothing, really. i can't tell the difference between boredom and just being high anymore. pale green can do that to you, i suppose. anything can do that to you, but there is nothing anything or anyone can do that i have not already done to myself.
i wish it would rain... did i just arrive home last night, or have i been here for longer? It seems these past nights i've been everywhere and back, but i can't remember it all at all...
i'm almost glad no one reads these things.
i'm going to go chill in my bath. maybe bring some pillows or some books or some music.
or will i just fall asleep on my bed again? Probably.

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In the morning and AMazing

Jul. 15th, 2010 | 07:18 am
mood: curiouscurious

it's 10 past 7
in the morning
and im aawake
and hallucinating slightly
i'm convinced my hair has a little red in it.... which... it doesn't
I'm slowly coming around to the idea of being nocturnal... there's a lot you can get done while the world is half asleep.
See, metaphorically, that kind of thing sounds quite cool. Realistically, i'm a girl writing, listening to music, drawing and sorting the laundry at 5 in the morning, and it's kinda weird.

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all is fair in love and war.

Jul. 14th, 2010 | 04:19 am
mood: tiredtired

It's fucking 04am, and not in the way I'd like it to be. If I end up staying awake until dawn I'm going to have to get back on sleeping pills. Damn... everything. Woke up at 10am and spent the whole day in the sun: swimming, and everything. How am I not ASLEEP? I have the feeling I would be were I to actually be able to bring myself to get into bed...

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With you on my mind, and my heart held in your hands

Jul. 4th, 2010 | 05:36 pm
mood: goodgood

...Screaming,  "Break me."

Good song.
Well, things are looking up, and changing... Met a great guy, who I hope to be seeing more of, and got accepted into a school I hope to enjoy and benefit from... God this sounds like a personal statement or some such crap.

I'm bored; there's nothing to do, and as much as i would love to go out and grab a coffee and a new packet of ciggies (running lowwww) it's simply TOO FUCKING HOT for either. so i'm in my nice little air conditioned empty appartment, watching Bridget Jones. None of my friends are in town - all in Spain or the Maldives and once again I remind myself how nice it is to be alone.

Had a nice, long, cool bath earlier, and am contemplating another, although I'm not too sure exactly how many baths one can take in one day without their hair falling off ad skin pealing and other gross things...

I can't believe I'm moving.... New York, Milan, and now Cambridge... God, then what? I like Warrick and Trinity College in Dublin; I've always liked the idea of Southampton, but apparently it doesn't have the best literature program... And then? I want to travel for two years, travel all over the place, and then maybe go into teaching - English - I don't want to teach without having seen the world; I'd feel like I was lying, you know?

God, it's so weird to thing that this is the future... today is the tomorrow I was scared about yesterday, lol... And it's so weird to be doing all this alone. Not that I have a problem with the way things are at all, at all, but... I just always thought I'd be in this with someone else. I guess it's better in a way - I can afford to about myself and all that. I just never thought I'd be here the way I am now. Short hair - smoking - studying - boarding school - drugs - dates with lots of guys - alone... it's weird.

Then, I'm only seventeen.................. 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30.......... it's just the way my head goes...
Well, eventually, after everything, I'll have a place to come home to. That's just how I'll look at it: A really long road paved with lots of people that will eventually lead me home, to someone I love and to a life I can lean my head back on and just exhale slowly.

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Let It Bleed by The Used

Mar. 21st, 2010 | 01:44 pm
mood: awake

This poison's my intoxication
I broke the needle off in my skin
Picked the scabs and picked the bleeding
And assumed that it was all in vain
A positive scab that's never healing
Calloused hit me in the face
A burning bridge that's so misleading
Poison's more potent now with the flame

Let it bleed
And take the red for what it's worth
Watch the fire
Fill your lungs with smoke for the last time
If you feel like dying you might wanna sing

The fire department couldn't drown the city
They didn't even try to wash it clean
And what did you think that I was sober
Put me out cause I'm on fucking fire
A positive scab that's never healing
I regret that I kept this clean
The most that I can do for you is keep on lying
It's not a lie if you can let it sing

Let it bleed
Take the red for what it's worth
Watch the fire
Fill your lungs with smoke for the last time
If you feel like dying you might wanna sing

You might wanna sing or scream it...

This poison's my intoxication
I broke the needle off in my skin
Picked the scabs and picked the bleeding
And assumed that it was all in vain


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do i have nothing good left to say...

Mar. 18th, 2010 | 12:52 am
mood: awake

00.52am on a Thursday morning is perfectly early for me

you said move on, where do i go?
he kissed my lips, i taste your mouth -
he pulled me in; i was disgusted with myself.
when i'm with him i am thinking of you
what you would do if
you were the one spending the night
i wish that i
was looking into your...
the best, and yes, i do regret
how i could let myself let you go
now the lesson's learned
i touched, and i was burned
i think you should know...

maybe then i could sleep at night.............. this is something that i'll never
i can't formulate or keep up with the words

i love i loved i hate i have loved... what i want and what i need are buried deep inside me
the devil and the angel will never entice me
my hair comes away in my hand and the cigarette burns out
ii taste the after-ashes in my mouth

sometimes i feel that id be better off that way

my salvation is my voice thats burning out
and common sense is something i can do without

so here's to living life miserable

how can i get you alone?
does this seem like it's about? that's not what i meant at all...

but then again, i'll probably always feel this way...

this is about... hats. and being astutely convinced otherwise, even though otherwise is staring you in the face stark naked wearing a hat with 'LOGIC' imprinted on it in bright dull letters.
this is about being unable to let go of a future that's in the past.
forgetting how to make things last -
its so easy to be alone.

Break me.

really, i... this is just about me, and my thoughts at this time of mourning.
i thought i was finished minutes ago
and somehow somewhere somebody knows... somebody knows what i mean
i have to hold on to that hope. i reject the idea that i'm alone in here. and of course some people are drivin out of their minds - it's so dark and spooky in there.
am i thinking? does this count as breathing?
she, like a butterfly in the night of her last day
tries to see
all of me
before it's too late
streets deserted, and overgrown,
she walks alone,
i try to match her pace.

i don't want to freeze over like so many before me, but i feel myself getting closer. i'm so close to the cold, close to the pain
but it's better to burn out than to fade away.
my actions ignore me - and i'm just the same
i can't breath i can't breath i can't breath

music doesn't help, the drugs don't work
they just make it worse.

i try to stay awake for the sake of those around me
but would they really be so much worse off without me?
and eventually, would they forget about me?

i can't quit while i'm ahead, cause i'm way too far behind,
but once i cross the finish line, in my own slow time
i'll keep on running.

i understand your sadness, so i guess i should just hold my tongue..

Good mourning, survival.
I'm coming home.

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