oh, my bedroom smells like toffee and i feel like collapsing.

this would be a good place to stop, i think.

good things i have done today:-

• written a letter to my grandad, mainly a polemic of love and destruction on the city we adore.
  
  
• bathed in lavender + cedarwood oil that shimmered sunlit sapphire in the bottle.
  
  
• started writing to jennie (this is very hard).
  
  
• written two poems (though one is still a germ, a seed) - this is good; this is ( Read more... )

my face hurts from laughing so much

..... and outside, the silent snow

when the sky is still light + bright outside at ten past five pm!

( amusing myself )

i feel so small sometimes, sipping on juice, barely able to eat, my skin so white with this mother-of-pearl sheen to it. my eyes are emerald, coal. and i feel so loved and cared for, and the strong ties of family again - and somehow weakened by it all, though not diminished; just overwhelmed. like i've spent so long standing in the shallows ( Read more... )

these are weeks old; i've been reluctant to post anything creative or worthwhile.

( skies )

i have been re-offered my unconditional place to read english in manchester. i was trying to demonstrate to tim how my future is like a spread hand, forked fingers, disparate choices, possibilities. (my hands are so small, ghostlike; bones + veins ( Read more... )