here

i'm allowed
everything
all of the time




i wish you had what i have.

just the memory of your face

i take pictures of the sky.

that's all i could show you, that's all i have
i wish it was going to be sunny... tomorrow is the lmhr carnival,

don't let the man get you down x

ass play

Do you know how many things I have broken by standing on them? A million. The latest? The alice band with the bow that I wear in my hair. I was quite fond of it. It was cheap and they do not have any more in stock at primark. I'm quite sad because I do not think I was done with it.

I've broken at least five mirrors by leaving them on the floor under piles of clothing. I know longer have hand held mirrors as I am pretty sure they will meet the same fate.

This happens because I am untidy. I have an untidy bedroom which I am avoiding cleaning by doing this instead. I'm sure this all simply a symptom of unresolved freudian issues and things like that. Anal stage of childhood development I think is where you are supposed to learn about tidiness. Order. Anal retentive behaviour stems from this stage, is this anal expulsive behaviour? The housekeeping equivalent of shitting everywhere? Perhaps. I'm not into assplay jsyk.

Come to my house and tidy up and i'll hug you and rub your feet and we'll be best friends?

love me til the sun shines

everyday i sit on the ledge
everyday closer to the edge
leaning further
staying longer
feeling bolder
one day i'll slip
and fall splat into great windmill street

without anything but the love we feel

england summer shopping is fucked. how depressing. this blog was going to be about shopping and how crap all the summer clothing is and how the english need to rethink their attactment to bikinis.
but i can't be arsed to get all fashion sassy.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooh my heart is burning like a krakatoa

nearly finished fight club.

i need money. i need money and a schengen visa. fuck.

more pictures taken while leaning out my bedroom window






it's kind of sad that the promise of 17 degrees celsius this week has me so excited. i should settle for nothing less than 25.

the rules of attraction

when i'm done with it, i toss it across the room. as if books just grow on trees. it's not as bad as i thought it was. it's as if someone captured things about a millisecond before everything became brutal and too much fucking effort. there's still some heart. it's still not good though. my naked back. your hands. call me.

i'm so very dull, i wish someone would stab me in the face, just so something would happen.

WE HATE THE KIDS

1. stop being so self involved. if unsure, assume nobody cares and keep it to yourself.
2. can i please come to your house and listen to country music with
3. absolutely anyone can play the fucking guitar
4. summer
5. i woke up, right before he kissed me in the dream. paulina called me. she's done this to me before, woken me before a crucial moment in a dream. EVERYBODY HERE IS ... POPPING PILLS.

this must be zion, they pro ised us zion

never read bret easton ellis, he's wank

either you love me, or you leave me, alone

the sky isn't really blue, the sky isn't really evil, try looking up

free money

11-14 barcelona, radiohead's daydream festival (plus beach time)
25 radiohead victoria park
26- 1 glastonbury festival with clint and zoe etc.


i have booked time off, the sun is shining, i'm so fucking happy i could shit.

i ruined your suit.

so tonight i went to see adam green at koko.

and after a few drinks i walked back with clint to camden town station, where he left me. i went into FIRST CHOICE and bought a halloumi cheese kebab, chips and a coke.

then i went onto the tube, northern line, southbound to morden via charing cross. i sat down and started to eat my kebab whilst reading the london paper.

suddenly the ass end of my kebab falls out, and theres salad and garlic sauce everywhere. mostly on the paper though. so i tidy myself as best i could and wrap up all my food in the paper. and abandon it on the seat next to me. and read my book.

i get to leicester square where i change to the piccadilly line westbound to piccadilly circus. i wanted to take my food package with me but there's no rubbish bins on the underground at all (terrorism thank you)

so i left it all wrapped up on the seat


i got off the train and i'm walking down the platform as the train starts to move

i look into the carriages and i see the one i was just in


and some city boy in a suit has attempted to read my paper and ended up with my discarded kebab all down his front. he was freaking out like a little bitch.


it was really funny, but i also feel really awful.

my party

all this free time
my rota is grand.

i feel compelled to fill my week with worthwhile activities

if it's sunny on monday i'll walk to the tate modern. if not, i'll get the tube.
tuesday night, adam green at koko
saturday night? up for grabs.

don't forget who you were. a brand new different person.

i feel sick with remembering

a house isn't arms around you

it has occurred to me
i am drunk





empty.