[This is not real. I am not Kelly. This is strictly for the amusement of myself and others. For more information, go here.]

I feel like I've been away from home forever and though my home is technically in London now, I miss Scotland the most. And I miss my mum and even my brother David. It seems every time I'm away from him for too long, I go back to picturing him as the wee scrap of a teenager that would wear my face every other day, in the form of a Diane t-shirt, ( Read more... )

There are a million and one things that I feel like writing about tonight, like seeing wee Jonny Meyers again, how I still laugh at Dougie's dimples, how Franny gets better looking with age, or how I believe Parminder is literally the most beautiful girl in the world. Or, perhaps, how I can't seem to stop listening to Demon Days steadily from the ( Read more... )

There are some people that, from the moment you first meet them or speak to them, you can feel have the ability to get underneath your skin and stay there, just festering. Not in a bad way, so festering is probably the wrong word, but in a way that tears down all of the person you've built yourself up to be and leaves you vulnerable, not only to ( Read more... )

Falling into the flow of a new journal has never been an easy task for me and the stacks and stacks of childhood diaries and notebooks sitting at my mum's house can act as proof for that. They all have no more than four or five entries, most of them from that small transitional period at the beginning of summer before your glorious teenage social ( Read more... )

Nearly ten years ago I was sitting in a cafe with my mate, David, when he pulled out a flyer that asked for those who wanted to be the next Kate Moss or Patricia Arquette. I had no money, I had naught to lose at the time, so I thought, "what the hell, why not?" I spent the very last bit of money that I had on the head-shots to bring with me to the ( Read more... )