I walked everywhere we used to walk and did all the things we used to do, without you. It shouldn't matter, because nothing ever did, but now it just seems too. I am tears and tired lines. Broken fragments of the past are wedged into my heart. I don't remember who I am and it's so hard to not be boring once you have become it. I don't even think I know you.

It was packing away the magic. It was forever and I couldn't bare to be alive. So I drank some wine and watched dragonflies dart about the familiar sky. I wanted to die because there would never be anything beautiful again. Nothing, truly magic. I am sorry it all died. I guess we all elected to grow up.

I wish I had gold hair, it's so deceptive.

I am just sitting here in underwear and my hair is drippping over my collar bones and I feel empty because I don't think things will ever be lovely again.

I once knew this girl. She was so pretty and thin with freckled hands and chocolate hair. She didn't really ever go outside, except in the evening to drink tea and smoke cigarettes. She lived in this old cottage with windows you couldn't see through because they were covered with books. All these boys tried to kiss her, they bought her flowers and boxes of lemon myrtle to rub on her wrists. She loved it all, ever so much.

I just want to fix myself a drink and watch Amelie. I mean, having coffee with sweet boys is fine but I just get so goddamn bored.