Fighting this feeling.
Rain on my eyelashes and mud in my toes.
How lovely to be alive?
Only the sky knows.

sometimes people aren't always there and that's kind of good because you learn to breathe by yourself. but it is also a lonely sea to sail.

This morning was nice because I had a butterfly cupcake and four cups of tea and mother told me stories from when she was my age.

Today at work I overheard a conversation between two girls. One of them was going to boarding school and was so very excited. Isn't that lovely?

Today it is raining. Today I ate homemade bread with butter and raw honey from Chile. Today I had a cup of tea. Today I will be meeting Rhiannon for tea. Today I have a job interview. Today I am only working three hours. Today, like always, I miss you.

Today I hung the washing and then collapsed on the grass and listened to 'I hate Seagulls' twice.

at 2am I wrote a page of words that turned into black smudge from my bitter tears. It was rather cathartic and when I woke up I thought I was cured. I lay in bed and slowly I thought about nothing and I began to die again. Anyway. I ate some salad for lunch and am having a herbal tea and maybe I might swim to the bottom of the ocean and hand cuff myself to a sunken ship and throw away the key and drown. No, really I am great. I feel pretty swell. Even though my eyes are starting to sting again.

but still, i just want to cry and cry and cry and cry until i die or live.

Sometimes all you need is a shower and a cigarette.

I am feeling bad, guilty. I have legs but I don't want to get out of bed. I have friends but I don't want to see them. I have a future but it looks black.

It's like my body wants to die, shutdown, black. Then when it does, it decides it wants to live again. I have no say in this at all.

walking home through the windy night, my hair tangles in cobwebs and rose thorns. i am free. your skin cells mingle with mine under the howling moon and we're flying because we can, because we should, because that's all we need. flight.

oh wow oh wow

Whisky can't kill a love bird but he can get tangled in willowy fig branches.

I went into the garden and found the faeries weeping. I lay in the weeds and wept with them, for we were both made of sadness and cruelty.

Combine knowledge and acknowledging you care and you get true unhappiness.

I feel lovely today, alone.

I woke up with affirmations to the shadow-light ceiling. I dressed in black because clothes have become unflattering. Thankfully I found my cigarettes in the green blazer, so I greeted the rainy morning with my smokey breath.

some people are so pretty. they smell like vanilla cigarettes and leave themselves in little places that break your heart.

I smoked a cigarette, listening to the smiths and then I made orange juice for us.

I thought of things to write, like how I had porridge and blueberries for breakfast, how the air outside is fresh from early morning rain, how I feel anxious when I sit still too long, that I eat too much, drink too much, dream too much, lie too much, tell the truth at inappropriate times, feel sad, cry, waste, rot. Then I thought how silly it is to write anything at all, then I did anyway, explaining why I wasn't going to.

I just want to use that golden boy, take his spirit and leave him black. Why am I so evil?

I want a reason to feel broken.

Never fear, there will be no Arsenic swallowing today, even though I feel sad like Gypsy.

The fig trees are almost bare. Lisa and I shared a cigarette on the deck this morning. The fig trees really are quite bare.