visual communication can be tiresome when all i'm doing is communicating the same thing, circumlocution of a sort, and none of it particuarly articulate. i need a new environment. january grey is draining me the same way. i'm sallow. i want peaches. sick of my tiny frame reflected in the same smashed shop windows. the laundry bag overfloweth ( Read more... )

there is nothing like quite like rediscovering crackly taped copies of albums you thought you'd never hear again. i lost my kenickie cd to the abyss that was f's flat - and today, my mother presents me with two boxes full of tapes. hirameka hi-fi, urusei yatsura; my entire mystifying adolescence is here!!

concentrate each breath / to make sure ( Read more... )

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no consequence: hangover and sinister electro; spent the morning in bed trying to ignore the dryness in my throat. empty stomach. wine at three in the afternoon, vodka at ten, baileys at eleven-thirty. outside the wind is fierce. it's a day when only toe-socks will do.

it's that particular kind of twilight, now, when the sky kind of swells. perfect blue, perfect soundtrack.

feeling fragile today, too close to the surface. (feeling unattractive and glum; feeling, oh, stifled and indecisive; feeling as though people think i'm a failure - which in some ways is worse than actually being a failure, you know?) i ( Read more... )

( lomo postcard )

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the carousel at twilight is gilded and neon;


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