My imperfections lie beneath my fingernails
Scabs and skin harvested in a frantic sweep
My hair is dishevelled by the same thin tools
And my only desire is to fall asleep.
__________________________________
Negative thoughts as chasm filler
Spread them on thick
But the cracks get bigger.
__________________________________
Fairy lights cast colours on bits of yesterday
Pinned into cork to make sure I don’t forget.
All eyes on me; for once this is a comfort.
__________________________________
Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah
Actions speak louder than words
Love is better than obsession
Sparking brain patterns leading into nothing but confusion and pointless random typing spilling guts to a page on a PC that is not even paper
Preen pose giggle hold clammy hands and play fight along the Thames reading each others minds the mirror and the window
About Me
Tuesday, 15 September 2009
Wednesday, 9 September 2009
New Chapter. Same Book.
Thought I should update as I haven't in a while, and and on this Wednesday evening I am a loss as to what to do.
This summer was one of change, as most summers are.
'Whenever I come back, the air on railroad is making the same sound' [A Movie Script Ending, Death Cab for Cutie]
Lately, whenever I go to write, everything escapes me.
I am sleeping a lot, but not enough, sometimes too much. Submerged in a dream. Intoxicated by the first throes of something that I won't refer to by using the 'l' word. Partly because I'm scared to admit it, and partly because I don't want to sound like a simpering schoolgirl with a crush. You know the kind. Etching your 'beloved's' name on your exercise books and inking heart shapes on your hand with your new glitter gel pen.
Nope. No etching or simpering.
Nervous energy and oodles of spare time aren't a happy pairing. My new house is beautiful, clean and cosy- but I am vexed by the endless amount of hours that plead to be filled upon my waking up.
Creatively, I'm a bit all over the place. Ideas come and go like lights blinking on enough. Add to that the fact that I have once again misplaced my camera cable (which I only purchased a couple of months ago) and I'm at a loss.
I'd be lying if I said I felt content.
This summer was one of change, as most summers are.
'Whenever I come back, the air on railroad is making the same sound' [A Movie Script Ending, Death Cab for Cutie]
Lately, whenever I go to write, everything escapes me.
I am sleeping a lot, but not enough, sometimes too much. Submerged in a dream. Intoxicated by the first throes of something that I won't refer to by using the 'l' word. Partly because I'm scared to admit it, and partly because I don't want to sound like a simpering schoolgirl with a crush. You know the kind. Etching your 'beloved's' name on your exercise books and inking heart shapes on your hand with your new glitter gel pen.
Nope. No etching or simpering.
Nervous energy and oodles of spare time aren't a happy pairing. My new house is beautiful, clean and cosy- but I am vexed by the endless amount of hours that plead to be filled upon my waking up.
Creatively, I'm a bit all over the place. Ideas come and go like lights blinking on enough. Add to that the fact that I have once again misplaced my camera cable (which I only purchased a couple of months ago) and I'm at a loss.
I'd be lying if I said I felt content.
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