Wednesday, January 31, 2007

Last night, i dream i am at a fantastic magazine launch party and there are lots of celebrities. They say: "we are youthful, we wear gold lame tunics over glittery leggings and our hair is curly and blonde and we have expensive handbags." I see Kirsten Dunst and Nicole Kidman, who is very short but i know she is actually very tall, and i wear a Chanel dress with voile as i drink in brightly lit toilets.

Really, last night, i went out and got injured. He laughs "have you been in some sort of fight, does someone hate you?" I had a tequila slammer before that. I walk home, with bare feet on the cool pavement.

Tuesday, January 30, 2007

I read, in my book from christmas day, that it takes the average person seven minutes to fall asleep, so i guess that makes me more than average, or perhaps less than average.

I woke up in a bad mood and last night i was hoping i would wake up in a good mood because i wanted change and i had my morning planned out down to the lighting and the warmth and the sounds. Instead, i have a cold and the weather is that grey that steals the colour from everything else.

I want to go out tonight, because i'm afraid of a lot of things just now, but i'm not afraid of the dark and being between smoke and colours and bodies and just sitting at a table is where i feel most comfortable, even if that's only because i can hide within the very air and pretend i'm like everyone else for a while. We can do our grown up drinking thing again and then some not so grown up drinking knotted around us being the very best that we can be.

We walk along these empty paths, you and i.

Monday, January 29, 2007

An echo of the summer in colder climates, i drift around disturbing airspace.

"I tried to notice everything, because i wanted to be able to remember it perfectly."

Saturday, January 13, 2007

A quick trip into town turns into all day shopping and buying nice clothes and a new belt. It turns into dinner in the pub with a pint which turns into me and A staying for another drink, a bottle of wine and then Wetherspoons for a shot of Baileys in a belgian chocolate cup. That turns into gin, with a lime. It turns into her spilling juice all over my carpet, not on my clothes. My bedroom smells of orange and pineapple. I text her from my bed and i say "my room stinks, you clumsy fucker."

Friday, January 05, 2007

I'm just writing for the sake of writing, because i'm unsettled and feel like packing and folding paper and organising even though it's half past three in the morning. I'm not even tired. I have five copies of The Guardian to read through, i'm writing notes in red pen about international journalism. I draw a moustache on a terrorist and then glasses on Tony Blair and a text message i don't want to forget goes under Thursday.

I thought about school today. I want its simplicity. I think about nights when i couldn't sleep before school, that didn't matter because my mother always woke me up in the mornings anyway. I remember breakfast at the table in the kitchen, and it still being dark outside and the clothes i used to wear. I remember A Streetcar Named Desire and think about round, pastel coloured hat boxes and rectangular shoe boxes filled with crinkled pink tissue paper and shoes studded with diamonds that sparkle and the tissue paper russles when you touch it. I remember doing homework at my desk with the lamp on, and in particular a rainy saturday afternoon, in the autumn, home from a ballet lesson and how i did artwork and my floor was covered in paper and paints and cups of water and i'd get trapped in the corner, sitting on the floor, surrounded by all the colours.
I remember that project i did, when i took photographs of everything i did for a day. Brushing my hair, eating, every lesson i didn't go to, my walk home and my evening, dinner, everytime i made a cup of tea. It made me think of him, how long ago he was.

Wednesday, January 03, 2007

One of my favourite things about Neighbours is the kids, who are about twelve, (so eighteen in real life) and how they just waltz in and out of their houses with no explanation.
"Bye Susan!" (I'm just off to do some crazy, practically illegal plan of Bree's, or to hang out with my much older sister's topless model friends.)
"See ya Zeke!"

Monday, January 01, 2007

Christmas and New Year both passed by uneventufully, i wore my new dress and heels and a jacket that didn't match. It was very windy. It's five days until i go back up north with shiny new things for my bedroom and i'll go out on saturday night. I'm still tired all of the time. My sister is being really nice, her hair is brown instead of blonde again. I do it all for you. Everything's for you, baby, baby. Baby baby you're really the best.

My New Years resolution, (if you could call it that, i'm not really one for resolutions) is EFFORT. Which is something i kid myself about every week in which i achieve nothing, or every time i have a bad night out. This means effort with university work, my general attitude and aiming for more optimism and, more importantly, effort with people. I'm too good at cutting people out, like those paper snowflakes. Those i once spoke to regularly fall away through all the gaps.

I received such a good phonecall last night, at half past seven in my house trying to do up the tiny buckles on my shoes, in the car with my mum, standing at the bus stop with the wind whipping away words. So many stories interrupted with "yeah... yeah i do... i'll have double vodka lime and lemonade."

now now now now now now now now BOY



Bye___________________________