i want you to tell me your dreams and your deepest inhibition
like curious lace from antique grandmothers chests
you vary in patterns
but all the same the delicacy is returned.
it eludes me to imagine you with so much loss of colour
and slightly frayed at the sides
can you reconstruct it with a bit of thread,
its been around so long we've forgotten what it looked like laying on the table
with candles and good smells all around
you've soaked in those smells magnificent and soaked in the wine
that was spilt on you so many times
really you are just an ornament from far away
little notice
their minds float astray
but to me you hold the memory of so much
and when i trace my fingers on you i remember clambering down the stairs
to see you underneath that tree
and how shy i was to approach you and stroke your delicate features,
those eyes that bore into mine
but i was too young to appreciate what lay in front of me now
now we are old and we swim in different lakes,
you dont notice me when i walk by
no matter what colour heels im wearing
your wearing a different colour than when you were first made
youve turned into cotton
spun into a comfortable old t shirt
that i can no longer find.

she's lost control again

my mind wanders from vocation to vocation
im in the mood for some new sensation

i just really want to be easy and free with someone. i dont want attachment, definetly not an emotional kind because my declaration of independance has been stated. i'm looking forward to bad weekends. i havent read the NME in so long. text in topshop
i need to get a move on into france. i think i'm flying to england. england. london. calling me consistantly since age 3.
i hear a cry and i;m following it. im standing tall. i can see art everywhere and it inspires me. life is awful and at the same time, i;m feelin it more than everrrr.
i need more materials and for more materials i need more money.
i need photopaper and scrapes of fabric, lots of fabric, possibly some felt, some more markers and more tons and acres of paint. canvas. water colour paper! shiny chocolate bar wrappers. everything! i can see it all coming together and tearing apart.

these grrrlz are my lyfe.4eva

i am constantly running and knocking down hurdles
i remember what it felt like to fly over them, to be the fastest and best and they couldn't keep up and people admired my skill and ease over those hurdles
grade7's problems seem so simple now and yet its the same game of making people like me
and i'm always losing it. i'm always losing them no matter how hard i try to keep them. they are lost and i am odysseus on a long journey home to a person who i dont even know if they love me anymore. except i dont know where home is and i havent got that person to even hope upon.
i just run and jump and hope i dont twist my ankle on the otherside and feel gravel in between my teeth that i grind so angrily while i sleep and walk and ride that pointless bus every fucking day.

i'm feeling sexual and vampy
i just want to go and dance and feel and dance
i want someone to touch my hips

i'm not sure how i feel about poetry anymore, or well my poetry.
anything that jumps out at my i write and then i doubt its validity and wasnt that the point of poetry alltogether in the begining?

my eyes are only as
crooked
as my smile
my thoughts lopside
wayward
because i'll fucking unleash and stab with some forks
for causing forks in my path
3 is a magical number
i'm not choosing an illusion
i'm choosing reality
i'm choosing realism
beyond that divinity
i cant even divide properly
besides of course my path in life
you shredded so nicely
and industrial sized.

love is laughter and huge smiles that arent shy
love is love handles and having them grabbed, usually hatred and in case of love its the touch of the other person so you squeal happily
love is hips creaking together when your crouching down the poop while the other person is in the room

i wonder if i'll ever feel it.

happiness, more or less, its just a change in me
something in my liberty

i dont think anyone gets as many quivers of excitement when they look at london as i do. it feels so damn fucking right, it feels so good to look at those maps, those picutres, to think of it, always. to remember the rush and anticipation the accents, the stores, the museums the people everything around me shinning. it shines through dark days.

what appeals to the senses?
why is it that some people find some feautures of others attractive while others dont?
how is it that everyone has a different perception of beauty?
what makes someone attractive to you?
how is it that music sounds different to different people?
i've got so many questions about life. i might as well be asking why the sky is blue, why my dog pants and why my body smells the way it does.

"Fuck the poets of the past, my friends.
There are no beautiful suicides
just cold corpses with shit in their pants
& the end of the gifts."


beautiful. i wish it was mine

i've had enough of a lonely universe
no one knows me and no one really cares that much
i'd rather be removed from it all, and actually alone, rather than thinking and facing, and only getting shitfaced because i dont feel like facing the knowledge of everyone leaving me

one by one. soldiers standing in a line
car drives me, shoots them
we dont feel no misery, seeing them flee
seeing them scatter away
because in face of bravery we knew
that they would never survive
what we were used to
they would never withstand
a heartbeat of a broken baby home
carriage murder
soldiers are gone.

I'd like to believe in one thing you say to me, would you like to leave? when i try to talk at all, it just turns out to be, turn on the stove, in the little tiny rooms that our friends calls a home, my head fills with heat, from the knife in your hand, to mine
I'd like to understand what you think about, why it seems so bad,its only escape from everything iknow im weak i know that im sad turn on the stove in the little tiny rooms that our friends calls a home, my head fills with heat, from the knife in your hand to my sand.

today i swirled salt into my hair and dreamed about warm salt water and fishies swimming by me, concrete beaches with ice cream stands and real iced coffee.
i dreamed about warm warm that smells salty and scuba diving masks and floating on the sea.
what will i do without the coast some day? i feel the need to pack up and leave. its nice to be able to look oustide and see the ocean, despite its disgusting state. i'm a mermaid with short hair, my eyes are the colour of the sea i live in. the atlantic is so blue grey while the adriatic is so green blue warm. such warm shades.
its pathetic what im doing here, i only feel sexy and good there, and feeling good is the point of life. of life! thats what its supposed to be, all warm winds and soothing waters.
i wouldnt' have eczema if i lived there either. just a brilliant tan, pale hair and bright eyes and lips, long skinnny legs, bathing suits and seashell surprise.

I'm thinking about everything except Teresa of Avila, my topic of essay. Essay de me tuer. I dont even know how its possible to have so much on your mind and yet nothing at all. Figure skating? Cheese? Taking baths in France? Now all I'm scared of France-wise is leaving the airport to get into the city. My stomach starts shivering when I think about it.
Today my mum took out chocolate she had hidden from when my grandmother had sent it over in a brown box tied up with string. Highlight of my week! The warm weather has been adding to my restlesness about everything. I've been getting so much done in terms of responsability. I'm even applying for a Visa card that I wont abuse.
I only work tomorow night and the rest of the week I'm free, including the entire weekend. That hasn't happened in months.

i will find myself in the forest
of lush
trees swaying as easily as my step does
and birds echoing my consistant laughter
at all things that dance with my shakey slides
left and right
this will all be my demise
but a beautiful demise.

tattoos are among the most beautiful things that exist on earth. in a world where nothing lasts, not even love, friendship or family, something being that close to your skin forever is beautiful.
i think i'm going to go make that appointment tomorow. narnian horse or narnian phoenix, they are both love and childhood and meaning which is important to me...
i love tats!

aiiy caramba fuck fuck fucking shit fuck.
i dont go out one night and i feel bad about it WHAT THE FUCK, i can't handle this right now, or ever. i can't handle feeling hated. i can't handle not being #1. i can't handle being #1.
sensation to cease to exist. cessation of existing. existance is ceased. ceasing my existance.
the only resolution i see is leaving, but somehow forgetting to tell all those people that love and care about me.. wait now, awesome! i DO get to leave without any trouble at all!
i am a weary, my life is so dreary, and i dont care how overplayed my motives and my personality is. we all want to be something higher and better, artistic, musical, intelligent, beautiful, fabulous, funny, witty, charming, charistmatic when in truth very few of us are, and the ones that are only hold the title of "good actor/actress"
fuck ya'll.
today is an eclipse and i am supposed to make changes in my life. this change includes me being happy, me chosing to be happy, and me moving forward. i always expect approval from everyone else before doing things and never ask for my own. Hair cutting had nothing and everything to do with that. and hair grows back, but my pride doesnt
this is all insufferable and i dont know what to think or do because if its always going to be like this, i dont know if i can do it. is it better to be alone or with someone?

Alice came to a fork in the road. “Which road do I take?” she asked. “Where do you want to go?” responded the Cheshire cat. “I don’t know,” Alice answered. “Then,” said the cat, “ it doesn’t matter.” Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland



this is everything and yet nothing and completly defines my life right now.

its irrelevant, whether i am here or there and who i am with.
my soul keeps going while my concious mind is destroyed and the lessons learned and hardships mean nothing in the face of a thousand lifetimes. i can't condone what i did, and neither can i predict what i will do, but in the face of reality and the subconciousness, which is the true mind, none of that matters.
there will be an infinite sun always shinning and the souls will live on. the sun is composed of the glow of the happiness of complete souls. nirvana, bliss, ohm, heaven, the words differ in every language yet in the end they come together in one sweet melody. they radiate the light unto the earth that touches other people and thats why the sun makes everyone happy, why its healthy.
this is all bullshit but its a theory that i could accept in the face of the next 2 bleak months. cold weather and wind, snow, rain, and so much ice. my tailbone is cracking, and so is my spine, both metaphorically and physically.
it was a pleasure then and really i can't remember the past two winters, where was i and who was i? it doesnt matter because it wont help me in the long run, and in the longest run. am i any closer to reaching happiness?

over and out
well maybe not out. i hope ackwardness subsizides and maybe is entirely non existant?
LETS HOPE AND SHOUT AND CROSS FINGERS!
i fckng lv ths frvr

we are breaking up. i really think we are
really all i want is things to remain normal, friendly. friendly fucking? possible. uhh very possible. i would like that a lot.
i need some appreciation. i want someone to want to listen to me just talking.
i wonder where the flying fuck this came from.
i love talking so much, i really love talking
infinite sarcasm.

everything is overrated, especially boys.
but you know what isnt? nice boys.
fuck mang. fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck
i need some existential detectives in my life. and some psychiatry

people only disapoint. you cant always get what you want.
this would be easy to understand if you only knew what you wanted. i miss. i really do
and yet i feel like there isnt anything right to do.

i felt so much love for him and him and her and her.
forever. well maybe not but for now, and now is the moment, now is right NOW and i still do, despite jerks and bad hugs and non hugs and good hugs and tickling and kisses and angry word and wonderful words. fuck man
i'm glad things felt like they used to. i'm glad i was waited for. i'm glad i could dance. i'm glad i shared everything i always share with you.
THROWDOWN! FIRE ISLAND! LESBIAN! SPARKLERS! E! COKE! STOLEN WINE!
fuck yeah. new years was awesome, and owed up as usual : )