the truth is you'll be okay anyway

what i have consumed today:
not a lot

what i consumed yesterday:
less

and the day before...?

i see a pattern emerging.
my new christmas coat fits at last.
it's the one good thing he did for me, getting me to fit that fucking coat.
and it's a nice topshop coat so it's almost, almost worth the heartache.
'bite me'.
the two words that made this a little bit easier. because he has something to go back to, someone to go back to. and he's not screaming silently to himself because the second girl to ever make him cry left him for their ex.







camilla is sad
i know this because i check her blog every day.
camilla, don't be sad because you are lovely and i love you.

whose idea was it to make Grave Of The Fireflies and My Neighbour Totoro into a double feature?
What the hell Miyazaki?

i'm actually going out tonight for the first time in ages, free drinks and all.






they just found Totoro's tree, now I know why they paired those films.

remember that time

can i get another dose of euphoria?
because for a short while i felt so happy
and another line solved the down after.
but now i have a headache and threw up and it's cold
and the low is back again.
oh well, another bag tomorrow

freestyle

i have a lot of room in my heart for love and consequently a lot of room for hurt

fuck

fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck
my chest hurts real bad right now and i was having an incredible night until i saw that but ive got alcohol and tissues and a bad cold and now i can cry in peace cause now he wont try and ow fuck this hurts

my baby shot me down

you can't take back the bad things you've done
but apparently if you're really sorry about them it heals itself.
which is awesome.
except now it hurts a little bit but it's numb.
i miss camilla, why is she in london.
i need her to come to town with me tomorrow.
i miss lily, i haven't seen her since thursday and i haven't spoken to her since sunday.
uh oh the paranoia's back
hush little thoughts! hush!


'evrale dostat chernil i plakat,
Pisat O Fevrale navsnryd,
Poka grohochushaya slyakot
Vesnoyu charnoyu gorit.'

(in English)
February. Get ink, shed tears.
Write of it, sob your heart out, sing,
While torrential slush that roars
Burns in the blackness of the spring.

this blog will save/ruin your life

There are those boys with earthly eyes
Their eyes are like the ground
You walk and walk, kickin' up dirt
But they don't make a sound

And when they kiss you, they sometimes leave 'em open
To make sure you don't drown
Yeah, the sweetest eyes, the truest eyes are probably dark brown

There are those boys with golden hazel eyes
The colour of weak tea
They spend their nights howlin' at the moon
To let go of the sea

The scope of their depth is terrifying, thrilling
You think you're finally free
When you capture you
'Cause golden eyes are as sticky as honey from a bee
I'm drownin'...

But those with blue I shouldn't trust
'Cause I myself have blue
You fall for them so easy
You think you see right through

You take a leap, thinking the water is deep
When suddenly it's just grey rain
Then puddles at your feet, they turn to dirty ice
But somehow they'll melt back to clean blue water once again
Confusing...


went to see Regina Spektor last night
i've been waiting five years to see her, i know because when i first wanted to go see her i was flying to see my mother on the day of her concert.
that made me sad, more than it should have.
Regina is right about eye colour, even using such sweeping generalisations.
i have blue eyes which i like to believe goes well with ginger red hair.
she did this song a capella, which means without instruments and good.
she is the human spirit in a little black dress.



today i did 5 things:
went to college, went to chain smoke camel cigarettes with Lileth during lunch, read about the purges during Stalin's reign, listened to sad songs by female singers, got drunk with my father.
and not one of them took my mind off you.