can't you see?

you're so pretty in person, your face inches from mine makes my hands clumsy, i start to shake.

you annoy me so much that i want to punch your nose up into your brain, but then when you speak to me about your day and about me, i am mesmerized and thrilled, you're cute. sometimes.

and YOU. jesus, our miscommunication is past the point of salvation.

of course i don't know what you're saying, stupid girl. you're making no sense, you're delving too deep in oceans too shallow.

why couldn't you just have left things as they were? we should leave it. end it. before something silly and unnecessary takes place.

before you make me insane and shit, i should stop.

the first step, admitting the problem? that's bullshit. it makes the problem larger than life and it becomes all you think about. note to self: never admit my problems to myself ever again. she's not my problem.

coming up only to hold me under.

i think i want to know why i get sad, why i get sadder than others.

feelings. one cocktail and my head is spinning, and reeling, and did i make a mistake?

is this thing just us? do i need permission? or something? fuck, i don't know.

i have never ever missed you as much as i do now. maybe those holidays like two years ago, but i doubt it.

i don't care how mushy and soppy and romantic i am, i'm not mushy and soppy and romantic unless i have been given reason.

i'm falling asleep again, why am i always falling asleep?

star-crossed

this is for you, and how you're the reason distractions are distractions distracting me from you.

distraction is a weird word.

this is for your hands, your smile, your stare.

this is for your sway, for your touch, for your laugh and for your closet romance.

this is for you, and i'm falling asleep typing it. they say that whatever occupies your mind that split second before you fall asleep determines what you'll dream of.

fuck it, i'm tired.

cradle me, i'll cradle you.

i'll win your heart with the whoowhoo.. haha?
pulling shapes just for your eyes
so with toothpaste kisses and lines
i'll be yours and you'll be

lay with me, i'll lay with you
we'll do the things that lovers do
with the stars in our eyes
and with heart-shaped bruises
and late night kisses divine

he should've said 'i'll be yours and you'll be mine' at the end.

i really feel all warm and fuzzy, and sleepy and content.

except the FUCKING mosquito is pissing me off. anyway, . i think i'm nervous to see you.

maybe, just a little bit.

this ain't murdermile, that's just the way i smile

i'll show you just how dark it gets when the sun really does go down.

the kills are amazing, they keep my sanity secure and in place. i've only just sobered up for the first time since ten this morning, and it's four in the afternoon. six hours of blissful ignorance, so distracting and refreshing. i'm not an alcoholic though, i don't like the feeling much, i just like my world revolving around something else for a while.

i hope nothing ever comes of that, because i feel like a tattooed gangsta that will find some homies to strangle you. i can't even breathe properly, i get so UGH.

i get so jealous, i can't even work.

so now, with a hunters in my hand and the kills blaring on my lap, red nail polish on my nails, i want it. the search for cherry red, hitched, superstition. i think i'm excited for tonight, maybe i'll be distracted again.

i have burns and marks and scratches all along my right arm, and they're all in the sun now, and my whole arm is stinging and throbbing. can your whole arm get infected? and can i get like septic?

take a drink of my red wine.

do you wonder like i do? what do you think when you think about it? when our eyes meet, what do you feel?

mushy soppy gross romantic lame tangled swimming addicted influenced want want want in love

last day of magic, where are you? my little serenado, my little cocaino.

kry vir jou.

it's silly how much i enjoy your distress, i must be a sadist. sanguine sadist.

langebaan is teeming with unfamiliar adolescents and i'm excited to meet them. i need new people, new distractions, because the old ones are kind of fizzling out.

shit, i have so much to blog about.

you're such a source of confusion for me. you do things to me that others don't, but you lack, and i don't know which to focus on. you have this, but you don't have that. i want to kiss you, but i dread it happening.

my eyes are drooping, my breathing is slowing and sounding more and more like an air conditioner (thanks baby) and i want to sleep.

if i could have my way, we'd be perfect. well, imperfect, but perfectly flawed. flawlessly imperfect?

i wish i could control/conceal my emotions, because they just keep spilling over, pouring into you, splashing all over bystanders. i, ah.

this feeling is too much for me.

wake up early to black and white reruns

too intense 

could you possibly be more shallow?

one more time?

too many times

please tell me you're joking, that it was all a big prank, and you didn't mean anything you said. please stop doing things like this; it hurts my feelings.

i'm overtired again, so i'm spewing emotional gibberish, but i seriously don't understand how your mind works, ever. not in a good, mysterious, intriguing way, but rather in a kind of repulsed, disgusted way.

please just fuck off for a while, go fucking screw yourself and your fucking fucking fucking fuck. god, you're an asshole.

fuck it. 

fuck it all.

won't let you talk me down

i now know what is very high up on my list of things i CANNOT handle; being alone when i don't want to be. it's officially the worst feeling ever, it's so lonely and helpless. like, now i'm alone, and i really, really don't want to be, but there's nobody here that i know or anything, so what now. now, i put tammy down because she's failing and won't stop going out of tune, and i get in bed and hope nothing scary happens, like a thunderstorm.

fuck, i feel so miserably bleh here in this shithole hostel.

so, now i know you know and all that, blogging may be awkward. not that you ever ask me about my blog or anything, only sometimes, but thank you for not being all like, "yesterday's post: explain." or anything.

i'm tired and i just want to talk to you, and then sleep until wednesday, because i can't wait to see babygirl courtney sing, i'm so ridiculously excited.

haha, WTF, i can't even believe it, oh my shit. i just want to laugh. haha, whaaat the fuck. i feel like some gross user person who takes advantage of people when they're in a certain state affecting their judgement and their secretivity and their caution. sorry? i didn't know you weren't all there.

i haven't processed this information yet, geez. haha, this is unbelievable, not such a huge deal though, just funny, and a little like, wtf?

haha.

anyway, haha. cough. my head hurts, my hangover is relentless and i am over-tired. exhaustion, sleep deprivation, alcohol, cigarettes. i'm cold, and i'm going to sleep in shannon and courtney and my hero's room, so that i can sleep with the fairy lights on, it's waaay too scary to sleep in the dark. i'm a little bit of a wuss, i know.

anyway! i'll probably be getting more emotional about it all at a later stage. at the moment, i'm sorta not bovvered about it, like, it happened, and things were said, but what now? now nothing, now i pretend nothing happened and carry on, and it won't bother me. not now, at least. will it bother you?

one day.

i have been waiting to make this post for like 24 hours.

we're in class, waiting for our exam papers, just talking, because we don't even have a teacher watching us. nevermind exams.

i'm hoping it's the french teacher on duty, because he's so sexy and he's so ah. ah. ahhh. he makes me so rawr, like major stimulation of my sex drive.

shit.

i hate it when you're stalking someone on facebook, and you accidentally like their activity, like "so and so is now friends with so and so" and you like it, and its like :| shit.

luckily now we can unlike :) fb stalking ftw

i'm really excited for probably not popular, and how we're all going to sit on chairs in a row because nobody wants to sit in the back. i'm excited how i'm going to play ukelele, and how anja is going to play on a drum machine, those synthesiser things, and maybe we should have a keyboard too, and bliss is going to play a wooden flute :)

last night was really a crap night, the beginning was nice, but i couldn't sleep and i kept waking up from the stupid lightning and thunder, and i had this annoying headache right behind my forehead, and my arm kept getting pins and needles, and ugh. it was just so shit.

i'm excited for today, and tomorrow, my weekend is fun-packed :) today, it's my little sister's birthday party, but before that, owen is coming to me for a while :D and bliss and anja are coming to me and then tomorrow, i'm going for a PICNIC with carmsch and everybody, then we're getting our drank on (haha) in cloakrooms, which is going to get steeeaamy and awesome :)

that's so pervy, because only my friends are going and i'm like ;) steamy. that's gross.

it will not get steamy, it will be perfectly heterosexual and innocent. nothing will happen, except we're going to get faceless, and we're going to be lame "whoo" girls, and go home and go to bed and wake up with cigarette and alcohol hangovers. nothing worse. fuck, i'm excited :) i'm so excited i want to say "amped". i want to use that word :/

you're so beautiful, it still makes me go "oh" all breathlessly and cliche-like. i can't look at you without smiling, and i don't KNOW why. i just like looking at you, i want to look at you all day long. just stare, because you're just so beautiful. did i already say that?

fuck. you're the most beautiful girl in the world. your aesthetic is like no other.

i hope my mom never finds my blog :/

double whammy.

that was cute. i listened to this cute thing, probably the cutest thing in the world, it makes me giggle like a silly baby. it makes me smile all big and goofy like an idiot.

and just as it finished, the second cutest thing in the world walked though my door, my hero, who had very obviously just woken up, came in and she looked so fucked up half asleep and confused and she waved a cute little wave and she was frowning like people do when they wake up and they're not entirely awake yet, and her speech was slurred, and just as she left she waved another little cute wave. it was totally cute :)

life's good back at hostel, i love my friends. ahh.

and i can't stop thinking about you, i want to write you letters, i want to write your name everywhere and i want to text yóu ten times a day. where the fuck is my head?

i have kinda finally admitted to myself that i have a problem. she's a problem, my problem. an ailment. the first step is admitting the problem, right? what's the second step? i just want this gone.

i'm exhausted, i need sleep. it's almost four o'clock in the afternoon, i've already been awake for twelve hours. this day is long and urgh and my asthma attack won't die down.

i want to kiss you.

sanguine delinquency.

i'm alone at home, and i'm so scared. i don't want to look out any window, and i don't wanna sit in the dark.

i'm so sad. my plug just shocked me. thank you, universe.

i'm sorry for being what you said you were going to be. isn't it a little ironic that i am, though? i should apologize. no, i shouldn't, i'm perfectly entitled to be like this. so fuck you for judging what i did. i care what you think, but come on man, i didn't fucking hurt anybody.

i am a mess. i am sad, i am angry, i am jealous, i am bitter, i am regretful, i am sorry, i am all over the place, i am lustful, i am guilty, i am lost, i am pretending, i am hiding, i am hopeful, i am a dreamer, i am wishful, i am taking, i am giving, i am craving, i am intense, i am repelling, i am always too much, but i am never enough.

please hold me. please make me normal again. why am i so fucking emo? what the fuck?

i bit my tongue.

nostalgic. melancholic.

why does my heart heat, why do i miss it so much. i remember your face, your voice, your secret smile. i don't want to watch you fluctuate anymore. i don't want to be a secret anymore.

i don't want to be what i am to you all. i want to fall asleep cuddling, and wake up smiling, with you in my arms. i want to kiss slowly, because i want to savour it.

i don't want to feel so much anymore. you have no idea what goes on in my mind, i have no idea what goes on in yours.

i wish i did, sometimes. other times, i don't, i have a feeling you'd make less sense.

just hold my hand when we're both wearing flowery dresses, and when the wind is blowing our hair all over the place. just put your hand on me, put your arm on my shoulder, lay your head on my chest. don't ever take it away, your touch is like the shock they use to revive people. to me.

boy, you're cute, and i think i like you, which is uncharacteristic but a good change of scenery.

maybe i need this transition. no, i need THAT transition. fuck, i want it. fuck.

i want to kiss you, and i want to hold your hand, and i want to feel.

well, i know what i want, what i want is right here with you.

my teeth burn freeze cold sting hurt right now. i don't know which word fits best. you know when you eat like, a jellybaby, or just brush your teeth and clench them together and rapidly suck air in through the gaps and then your teeth burn like hell, and it feels like they're stinging, you can't tell if it's freezing or burning.

that's what just happened to me.

why me? what is it about me? you deserve someone better. someone who won't constantly blow you off, someone who will want to hold your hand, someone who will want to kiss you. in public. you deserve someone who won't blatantly ignore you in plain view and not feel bad. stop doing what you say you do, and go find the girl that will make you happy, not drag you along behind her, not laugh at how you follow, not be a complete bitch about your helplessness. go fulfill some girl's dreams, and she'll fulfill yours.

maybe i was too selfish to ever let you go, because i know how dream-fulfilling you can be when you want to be. but luckily, i've somehow, overnight, become a better person - regarding you - and i want you to be happy. you deserve some fucking happy. maybe you should just take the opportunity and fuck off so fast in the opposite direction, so fast i'll never catch up.

and you. ah, i don't even know. it's just getting to the point where so many things, too many things remind me of you, it's like, against my will, i think about you more than i ever thought about her. okay, no, not yet, but it's close. and all i want to do is text you all the time, or just talk to you, but it's not like i have all these millions of things to say, i just want to talk, about anything.

i just like you, i think. i probably do. ah, fuck, here we go again.

i always screw things up by talking too much. i should keep my mouth shut. i always say things and they always come out so terribly wrong and i sit, and i think back, and i wonder "what the fuck were you talking for, anyway?"

well, not with bliss, because with her i can talk until there are no more combinations left to be made of the words in my vocabulary, and she'll just do that funny thing with her mouth and evaluate each sentence carefully, and laugh when she starts to notice i've been saying the same thing over and over, only changing the order of the words. i think my judgement is horribly clouded by the fact that i hardly see her anymore. i must be going insane. anyway, she wouldn't let the fact that i talk way too fucking much get in the way of anything, she's just cool like that :) this is totally turning into a shout-out. I LOVE YOU, BLISS!

okay. now i feel better, after writing down most of what is swimming around in my head. what's the time? i've had all the time in the world to study for biology and i haven't started. what a dumb fucking fuck. maybe i should go start, so that i can get into university, and stay in fucking south africa after school, and maybe be able to spend more time with you before we both grow up and go do things with our lives and our degrees.

yeah, i definitely like you.

the delightfully damaged

eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeer, okay.

shit.

fuck.

my life is in fucking happy pieces everywhere, i'm all over the place. my heart burst and the feelings splashed everywhere, all over everything and everyone.  i'm so happy right now.

please don't let anything change. freeze time, and let us stay this way for forever. because we're all glowy and beautiful like this. we're young, stupid and invincible and we think we know better, but we know jack shit, and it's so unbelievably fun. i don't want to know how to do things right.

these mistakes are better than any perfection i've ever tasted. your mistakes are sweeter than any faultlessness. who needs purity when we have damage? who wants a spoonful of perfect, when we're mouthfuls of flaws?

wednesday, bloody wednesday.

wednesday is such an uneventful day. what happens on a wednesday? nothing.

except, town. but i'm not at hostel so, for now, wednesdays are uneventful, too long and boring. maybe it's good that it's long so that i can fucking study. not much of that is taking place, and i don't get why i'm not in an absolute parry now; i haven't started.

today is a beautiful day, again, though the sun is a little too hot to spend a lot of time in it. maybe i should swim, apparently you tan easily in water.

i just smothered my face in sunblock. i look like a fucking joke, my whole face is as white as snow and it's hilarious, i wish i wasn't alone because if someone was here, it would probably be funnier. oh well, at least i won't get freckles now. my freckles are out of control, they're just making babies at the speed of light. they're everywhere, and it sucks, because it looks like i'm brunette version of a ginge. did you dye your hair? no, why? oh.. i thought you were originally a gin - a redhead. I KNOW I HAVE A LOT OF FRECKLES.

even my lips are as white as my skin. all you can see is my eyes, and my nostrils, and gums and metal when i smile. i'm going to get to work and start rubbing it in.

i'm done, i look sorta normal now, though my skin looks like paste, and i look violently ill.

do you wanna know what sucks? like, really, really sucks? when she asks me those things. it's not that i don't want her to know, it's just that, she should know without having to ask. and when she asks me i always screw it up somehow. i should just keep my mouth shut for forever, starting now. i'm never going to get mushy again, i'm never going to be lovey dovey again, and no more sentimentality. it just always screws things up.

actually no, i will be. in about 30 minutes i'm probably going to catch myself staring into space dreaming all sentimentally, thinking lovey dovey thoughts. maybe i'll just never voice those things again. just sit around daydreaming mushy things, and n - ah just shut the fuck up.

who cares anyway.

flawlessly.

i don't even know why i'm blogging now; it's late and i should be asleep.

i struggle to fall asleep, my mind is overactive.

i have come to a conclusion; i suffer from ADHD of the heart. it's a terrible ailment and i believe it detracts the beauty of feeling, and attraction. [thanks bliss, for that word :)]

i don't understand the whole 'number' theory, because that's not how it is.

boys are kind of cute, i guess. i think i could work my way there, i think i could get over girls and maybe like a boy. boy is a cute word. boy boy boy.

they're just so rough, and so hard to relate to.

you know when you stare at someone's face for a long while, and their face changes and becomes ugly? it doesn't happen with you - you become prettier, and you're just so fucking hot. i sort of want to ravish you.

haha, er. 


anyway. i like that word: anyway. anyway, anyway, anyway. i like words.

i like you, and it's weird how i still like you. usually, by now, i'd be kind of over you. but i liked you, i like you, and i probably will still like you later. it's nice to have some kind of consistency in this world of ADHD i live in. maybe one day i can invent a pill, like ritalin, that will calm the heart and not the head, and then i can think things through, before falling in obsession again.

happy! happy.

happy up.

my eyes are burning, and so is something else, so i'm going to go to bed before i spontaneously combust, which would be cool, to die so dramatically. touch wood, though. if you're reading this, whoever you are, please touch wood for me. serious. touch wood.

flavoured water, prawn cocktails, a cigarette, your blue-green ancient beanie, and a hoodie with a hole in its pocket. and pyjama pants with a whole lot of frog faces on it. life's good. i like being half-child half-adult, it's sweet. i like how there's an in between. normally there isn't, normally it's just all or nothing.

did you touch the wood?

without reason.

why does death occur? why take our most loved, and place them six feet beneath us? why take our most beautiful?

why shock us, who have been left living, to our core? why shake us, why turn our little worlds upside down?

why cause such bloody, bruised, fractured aftermath? why leave children motherless?

we're all hurtling toward the same thing, the same fate. nobody is going to slow down because of stature, or money, or because of what everybody else thinks of us. it doesn't matter, we're all going in the same direction.

so why do you care about what they think so very much? why do i care so much? 

anyway, i got high with my neighbour this morning, and the strangest thing happened. i was on the balcony, laying on my back, staring at the sky, all peaceful and serene. i don't remember how it started, exactly, but suddenly the sky changed into the ocean, it was rippling and the reflections were shooting off of it into my eyes, and it looked like, you know when a pool reflects onto a wall or something, it makes those wavy shadows? it looked like that. only, it had waves too, and it was beautiful. then i started seeing oil-based solvent as you would through a microscope, and i couldn't fix my eye directly on it, so i started thinking of 'squiggly line, why do you scurry away, are you shy? are you shy, squiggly line?" and i laughed until it felt like my veins were going to burst from pressure. like my heart was going to burst from happy.

today was beautiful, i felt a lot of things, and it was just beautiful. the coffee was amazing, the water tasted sweet, and the piano was loud and it melted my mind.

i miss hostel and all my friends, and i miss cuddling, and i just miss them all so much. exams should just hurry up and finish now, so that we can all sit around and laugh without having to be stressed out.

i need to study, i'm never going to make it anywhere if i don't.

and last but not least, you're cool. and you're funny. i could talk to you for hours and hours and hours without getting bored. i probably haven't started studying because i'm talking to you. and you're cute. you owe me something huge, whatever we bet on. yes, you.

seems i've fooled myself, once again.

don't listen to them, they've got it all wrong. might isn't good enough. you're never around. am i dying?

i don't know which i wish i could do more; rewind or fast forward.

i wish i could wipe your memory and start all over again tomorrow. wednesday. next week.
i wish i could change your mind, you're so fixated on this one thing, when it's so, so irrelevant. you're in the wrong place. wrong time, too.

i love you.

i. hate. hiding. this. from. you.

i'm so tired of this, i'm just so tired of you. you and all your emotional baggage.

why why why why why caring intensity wishing stop begging crying i want the ocean right now. stop crying to the ocean. tegan & sara, why do you sing about the ocean so much? i hate the ocean,

it's full of sharks and those ugly lightbulb fish, and scary scary things.

i don't want to wake up crying. respiratory distress. screaming. i want music, i want people. do you know why you're scared when you're alone?

talk to me. i'll tell you everything, if only you'd ask.

terminally ill.

i'm past the point of help. i'm so hopelessly romantic, it may be terminal.

the ones we want to read most are always illegible.

you're vague, you're distant, you're so hard to read.

i always have to give people this advice that i wish i could follow. "just expect the least from her, because that way you're not setting yourself up for disappointment. that way, nothing she says can hurt you."

falling from the heartbeat of this girl.

chemicals in my brain.

i'm having one of those terrible days when everything seems lonely. it's as if there aren't enough loved ones, friends - people, even - to satisfy my longing. i want to go on every social network and talk to people. i hate social networks. screw that, i want to walk to somebody's house and have conversations that will last for forever.

but of course, the day i crave human company, everyone is busy. everyone is unavailable. and i need some reassurance. but everyone's busy.

i'm not sad or anything, i just lack laughter at the moment. friends would fix that, though. am i blabbing again?

we are what you say we are, i agree with you. i agree with everything you said. how do we fix it though? because if it were to be fixed, everything would be so much easier. and smoother. but that's easier said than done.

excitement, anxiety, exhilaration, anticipation, nervousness, clammy hands, dry mouth. lick your lips, wipe your hands on your jeans. rock back and forth, tickle her leg. lean on her, give her a coronary. push her up against the wall. swallow, deep breath. exhale. desire, close your eyes, the proximity is torture. this is what we live for. kiss her.

moody.

why does everything about you GET to me like this? why does it matter to me? so much? can you tell how it affects me? or can you tell how hard i try to cover it up? how hard i try to play it cool?

sneezing feels cool.

i want you i want you i want you i want you i want you i want you i want you i want you

kissing is officially one of my top five favourite things to do.

why do people have to have favourites? i hate that. everybody has a favourite of everything. favourite date, favourite kiss, favourite friend, favourite person, favourite shirt. favourite mug. favourites blow, because second-best hurts.

i wish i could read your mind. i wish i could stop you from doing the things you do, because you confuse me. daily. i'm going to go out on a limb and say hourly, because with this, anything's possible.

you're so gross, i don't even want to have to look at you for one second longer.

shit, the things you do speak volumes. do you notice? without even saying anything, you don't fall into silence. you do things that are literally loud. i'm scared this won't go away.

just take it away.

i think goosebumps actually feel gross. it's this creeepy crawly sensation that spreads over your skin like a disease. your shivers go viral.

give me answers, i'm tired of your questions.

we're molten.

mol•ten
[mohl-tn]

-v.

1. melt

-adj.

2. liquefied by heat; in a state of fusion; melted

everybody wants it now.

miley cyrus is a little fuck. she probably can't sing to save her life. so why is she where she is. she must have a really good agent.

i've wanted to blog like all day yesterday, and now i'm here and i don't know what to say.

what is the fucking point? why do i even let myself fantasize? nothing is ever going to happen. not one thing i dream of having is ever going to come true. and it isn't as if they're unrealistic. it's as if i've buried my happiness in these things that won't ever happen, and now, i believe nothing else will satisfy me except that. or those things.

if i can never make music for people to listen to, i'll be unhappy. i don't even want to admit the others to myself.

fuck! this is so gay and screwed up. katy perry is pretty.

she sings a little like a man, even in the edited versions.

i feel like a book of cliches. i feel like a romantic facebook bumper sticker, the cute lame ones that all the girls make their status. the one that everyone relates to when they're in love, but they laugh at how ridiculous it is when they're not.

sheet intimacy.

i still can't get over how good my computer makes blogs look.

i love days at home when the parents are out, everything is just a million times brighter and prettier. the whole day just seems better. 

mothly has been my bff for the past while, she's so cool lately. i've figured out how to use her now, so she can make people look beautifully blurry, because sometimes clarity makes them ugly.

spook //

so, events have transpired, and now my respiration is horribly tampered with again. on a regular basis. i think it actually may be unhealthy for my heart to race like that. probably not. i wonder if the intensely heavy breathing improves my lung capacity. then again, probably not.

i love cigarettes so much because they make me feel light and flowy. i don't know if other people feel it too, but i don't feel all negative about things. i feel happy. from a cigarette, yes that's gay, but whatever.

la-la-la-la-ooooh. move you - anya marina. 

what do you say when you speak to the average person? where do you look? when do you smile, when do you nod, when do you lose interest? when do you feign interest again? 

move you.

i wanna move you around, got to turn you inside out. where do you where do you where do you get off?

i was walking with a ghost. i said please, please don't insist.

it's left me blind.

i just reread the ritalin post, and it's so gay. i'm thinking about deleting it.

it's so much better to blog on a computer. it all just looks prettier.

i'm supposed to be studying, for hospitality and biology.

oh well.

i'm taking a gap year anyway.

softcore ftw

i took two ritalin pills today!

because i was speaking to chris yesterday and he told me he did it but he did it at night, and he said he watched a movie and it felt like time flew, so i'm trying it, but it didn't really work, it's just, white looks really white, like pages, in a schoolbook, they look like the inside of a hospital. and other colours too, they look like the concentrated version of what they are, like oros or energade concentrate, before you dilute it, it's dark and really, really sweet? like that, kind of.

another thing is, things that would usually annoy me are totally, totally irrelevant to me today, and small things that on any other day i would totally be okay with annoy me so much, it feels like there are beetles crawling and reproducing under my skin.

i also lost my asthma pump today, which wouldn't be such a problem if i wasn't so annoyed, and another thing is, i'm trembling a lot, i can't type one word right, they all come out wrong somehow. at least i'm not tripping or anything, else this post would be pretty illegible. this screen looks like it has polka dots on it.

my head doesn't echo or anything like i thought it wooulf. that wzs - was supposed to me - be 'would/ - 'would'/ i keep doing that instead of 'would'. i'm going to stop correcting muyself - myself so that i can go back to this post and laugh at how i though io tho\ - thought i was cool an -and took two ritalins. because by then i'm rpobably - probably going to be on some legit shiot - shit like cocaine ofg - or something and ritalin is going to be like the jellytots of the candy world. \ i mean of the drug world? i don't even know what comparison i'm trying to make that's not working, bnut - but i ehgat - what i mean is, is that ritalin is foi - going to be insignificant andf - whaT I; - what i'm going to be tripping on hen - when i reread this is going to make ritalin l; - look like purity baby food compared to some hardocre = hardcore thai curry (being the cocaine)

so anyway, my chest is closing up for some odd reason, i keep coughing like an old lady.

i was walking with a ghost.

fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.


fucking FUCK.

i feel a little better now.

what a beautiful state we're in.

my stomach hurts, my nose hurts, my tongue hurts, my throat hurts, my arms hurt, my mouth hurts, my teeth hurt, my head hurts.

you're annoying when you get like that.

i'm so so so tired. everything is a little blurry and kinda in slow-motion.

it wasn't supposed to happen.

i really, really, really don't feel well.

i want to tell you, do you want to know?

i swear bras and beds are the most amazing things ever thought up.

pills sound good now, and sleeping. this fever won't end.

show me your teeth.

first post in forever that i'm doing on a computer. the screen is motherfucking huge and it's a cordless keyboard i'm typing with. everything is better here.

i'm hungry and i want to get this image out of my head. sharks scare me. deep waters scare me. i hate being alone, but at the same time i like it. i keep getting the chills one moment, and burning up the next. my head feels a little muddled. i think i'm getting sick.

i'm going to make something to eat and i'm going to watch tv on this gigantic tv that makes everything appear life-sized. imagine watching something scary like saw, or the ring, or something.

well, this post was all shit.  i should throw something meaningful in.

i think you're an obsession.

you were so fine.

you know those days when nothing really goes your way?

when the weather is cuddle weather, and all the people it reminds you of are busy. they're not interested. you don't text them, because you know you won't get a reply.

when you think about her and how she could make it better. she could make it okay that nobody cares enough.

when you miss how close you used to be with someone, and you cry because the immensity of it only hits you then. somebody who used to be a big part of you is lost to you, slipped right through your fingers.

when you get lame and soppy and emo and start laughing at the strangeness of it all.

life's good.

walk hand-in-hand.

those times when you're wondering, ask. those times you don't want to know, don't.

because you're not one to ask and i'm not one to tell, and it's why it doesn't really work out most times.

so just ask, because sometimes i want you to. when you think i don't want you to, nine out of ten times i probably do want you to. just ask. please.

excuse me when i get awkward, when i trip over my words and say the lamest things. excuse me when i talk so much nonsense without ever actually saying anything. excuse me when all i want is your attention.

i am babbling again. i want to go home, because i can't do it for a second longer. you know when you just need time alone? to breathe, and oxygenate your brain properly? so that you can actually think straight?

because right now, i'm not thinking straight at all.

before my pen has gleaned my teeming brain.

i'm supposed to be studying for my english poetry exam. it's not fun, though.

my ipod is more interesting, the pictures on my cupboard are more exciting, my spacecase is cooler. even the roof is looking pretty good today.

i like chewing gum, but i like bubblegum more. i miss bubblegum.

ah. thinking about this thing sucks so much. i try not to, but it's a little hard when my heart heats like it tends to.

"when you were mine, you were all i ever wanted to do; now i spend my time following him whenever he's with you."

i do a lot of short posts lately. whenever something's on my mind, i just put it on here. i never have time to sit down and search my heart and write down long soppy posts about my feelings. which, in fact, could be a pretty good thing :)

my mood just flipped, i'm listening to a feelgood song: empty in between - tegan & sara. it's so cute :) it's done now, it's a really short song.

flume - bon iver is playing now. for some reason unbeknownst to me, it makes me unbelievably sentimental. it makes me contemplate. consider things. think about life, dying and things i need to do and say before that happens.

i should go study before i get too carried away.

à toute lèvre l'envie de l'embrasser.

playful
awkward
sweet
soft
tender
temptation

you know when your thoughts are a constant stream of words? words that try to explain, to describe.

it's like your mind is an empty hall, and the words incoherently ricochet off the walls. bouncing back and forth, and writing them down doesn't help.

the words swim in my mind, the emotions float around in my chest. i wish they'd drown.

i'm so happy, i feel delirious.

your mouth makes me lose it, a little. the firm grip i have on this slips, and i feel involuntarily imaginative.

ANYWAY.

will you, won't you?

why do you always shroud your motives in mystery?

sometimes, i feel life too intensely to bear living it. does anybody else, too?

she's so pretty, it's hard to look at her without a goofy smile.

i want your drama.

it's always you, always all about you, always all for you.

it's always you.

what's the promise for? what's your promise for?

i'm not bitter, and i'm not jealous.

you found some words written on a page, does that make you quake? can you feel yourself break out into a nervous sweat?

do you remember when we used to talk? we used to keep secrets, and we used to hold hands with romance. would it be different if distance was the issue, and not proximity?

this could be the end.

too much effort goes into being naughty, and doing things secretly. too much lying, too much stress, too much worrying, too dangerous. too many secrets.

i'm teeming, filled to the brim.

it's kind of like the emotional equivalent of when you eat too much, and you feel a little sick?

you only ever had her when you were a fever.

today is: emotionally exhausting, internally gruelling, and a horribly stretched out oxymoron.

it's been one day, i don't want to unleash my intensity and scare her off, like it scares everybody off. she brings out an immediate reaction, immediate interest.

i feel like we could be really good friends, if something else, something romantic, doesn't get in the way and screw it up first.

or, it could get in the way and be the best thing ever to happen to me, instead of screw it up.

i feel irrationally teary-eyed, so vulnerable that one bitter remark results in simultaneous implosions and explosions of my being.

i want to runaway, i want to run to her, she wouldn't judge like you would. she'd understand.

because i don't want my heart to trip when our eyes meet anymore. i don't want to feel that a second longer, i want it to change. i don't want to want.

i'm so confused, our changes clash and it's too bad that it's happening at the same time.

my head is spinning.

from a mess to the masses.

disgust, discouraged. distant from other interests.

two televisions babbling, a phone ringing, her ipod blaring somewhere near her shoulder. white noise helps.

how do goosebumps, shivers, chills ever feel good? how is skin soft, and rough at once? how is it possible that even more desire floods into her chest?

you're pretty, and you're sweet, and you're screwed up and so hardcore, you're honest, you're stylish and you have good taste, your hands are soft and you have a contagious smile and really, ridiculously pretty eyes.

i won't believe it, it's always like this.

the sweetest things that i can't keep my heart from singing.

i have a bad feeling about something, i'm a little nervous too. anticipation colliding with anxiety, and it's making my heart drop at a startling speed. i think i need to tone down the recklessness of my state, my impulsiveness. i need to start thinking things out before doing them, maybe then i'll spare myself from having to analyse the aftermath.

i want to count them all, all over, all over again.

will you, won't you?

crush on crack.

it's not really such a big joke anymore. i can't look at him without my mouth involuntarily curling upwards. i can't think of him without feeling my heart throw itself around a little. i can't dream of him without waking up smiling. i can't not be in an impeccably good mood after seeing him. i have a feeling that i should slow down, come back down to earth, because he makes me want to feel things, do things that i've never wanted to do before.

and for 'just a crush', that's a little too intense, i think.

kissing in a state of torpor.

late night waiting by the phone
tonight waiting for an answer
heartbeat drumming double time
i need one more chance to be near you

still hanging on? for what?
can't operate, fired up
i won't eat and i won't sleep for you yeah
no rest till i get through
'cause i'm holding out for you
am i the only one who's insane?

hey, you're playing with my delirium
and the longer i wait the harder i'm gonna fall
stop playing with my delirium
'cause i'm outta my head and outta my self-control

still here in this quiet room
deep in delusions sending me over
outside, watch the world go by
inside time stands still as i wonder

still hanging on? for what?
can't operate, fired up
i won't eat and i won't sleep for you yeah
no rest till i get through
'cause i'm holding out for you
am i the only one who's insane?

hey, you're playing with my delirium
and the longer i wait the harder i'm gonna fall
stop playing with my delirium
'cause i'm outta my head and outta my self-control

"she wants to trace words on your skin, she wants to say things she'd slur if spoken aloud. she wants to seem cheerful and care-free, but she ends up looking like a cheap fake to you. it's not that she's unhappy, you just don't give her a chance to make you laugh. you don't give her the time of day. she wants to hold your hand and she wants to look at you without having to glance away everytime someone else looks on. she wants to say things without sounding mentally impaired, without stretching out her words. she wants to take in your heady scent and spiral dizzily into bliss. she wants just to touch you, she wants you to want her too."

do i have to get down on my knees, and beg?

i want to be able to come back, and find you waiting. i want to slip things up your sleeve and see you smile to yourself. i want to know you. i want to fall asleep next to you, i want to hear your breathing.

i'm falling asleep right now. anyway. i'm happy.

cradle me, i'll cradle you

i just got kicked out of maths. again. anyway, it's cool, i've had three off periods in a row. now that's what's good.

my arms don't hurt anymore, only sometimes when i lay funny. last night i had the weirdest dream about the weirdest things, and the french teacher was in it. which is always good, i dream about him often lately, and i like it :)

so, today i was scribbling on a piece of paper, and i have an idea for my tattoo. however gay this is, i want something to remind me of my time here. my highschool career, for some reason, is something i never want to forget. and it wasn't even that cool? anyway. i want to make a list of all the people here who made a difference to me, or made an impact on who i am (is this sounding ridiculous?) and tattoo the number at the back of my neck. like "8" or "eight". i don't know if it should be written out, or just the number. "28" or "twenty-eight". i just don't want to forget, even if i had to tattoo a puny "lar", i'd do it.

is that gay? i think it's gay. but people won't know, they'll just see a cool number at the back of my neck. maybe i should put a barcode there and i can have some random numbers like "62131111125121" at the bottom. or something?

also, while i was still scribbling on the same piece of paper, i tried to write down exactly how i feel. it helps sometimes, to vent, and just feel better about things in general. clear your head. the problem was, though, that i couldn't write anything. it was like there was some valve, and it was firmly shut, and my hand was quivering, but no coherent words were formed. then, something weird happened; i gave up, and i read a friend's magazine. so i read my horoscope, and it said something about love will be hiding from me or something, and that it will be difficult for me to know how i truly feel about anything for about a month. it gave me the creeps, because my reality and my horoscope has never matched up so accurately before. i guess i'll just wing it for a month, will i still be able to know what i want? not that i ever do, really?

ah, shit, why did you have to say that at the end. why did you have to add those five words.
 because it just fucked with my mind, really, and not in a good way. asshat.

strange steps take us back.

so, this weekend was fun. although i did mix hayfever medication with alcohol on friday night, and then some mcdonalds, which ended unpleasantly. last night we watched p.h.fat and i think they're cool, the way they dance like chickens, pull up their shoulders like little boys and play with the mic cords. and look you in the eye and smile; they're cool. and, of course, how they rap about dinosour blood, bugs and lions, and making love to superpowers. and vulgar things, too.

i like bathroom wall inscriptions, i like reading everything, and why is it so fucking tempting to write on it too? i want to write things, sentimental things. all flowery and romantic.

oh my god, everything hurts. my wrists, my elbows, my shoulders, my neck, my tongue. it feels like all blood circulation has been cut off, i can't even eat a teeny sample of milktart (which, by the way, was absolutely amazing) without my tongue hurting like shit. i can't move my arm without my elbows hurting even more like shit. wtf?

okay, over this post.

scumbag.

my camera and the usb, my memory sticks, my little ugly bag. i really don't hope they're gone, because i'll cry and my mom will kill me.

i don't know, i'm really tired, and today is going to be a long day. i'm going up the mountain (well, not really up the mountain, just a little higher than i am now) with megan, franki and bliss. hopefully that cheers me up, those people always make me laugh. after that, the stupid prize-giving is going to take up so much of my time it's a joke. i'm going to take my book like hero and i did at the hostel dinner, it works.

i wonder how long this period is going to be, and i wonder what i have after this. today feels like such a blur, nothing is really clear, today feels purposeless. i want to listen to the yeah yeah yeahs and the kills and get high on them, because that actually happens sometimes, and i like it, very much.

last night i dreamt that i met angelina jolie, and she was nice, it was kind of the coolest thing ever. i really think it's awesome how i dream all these things that i wish would happen in reality. yes, it sucks to wake up, look around and see nothing phenomenal except for drool or something, but it's cool to know what it feels like. well, not in the tactile sense, but the emotional sense.

bell rang, how fucking cool is that.

everywhere, kiss, kiss me.

oh my fuck i can't even string a coherent sentence together to explain how much you annoy me; you don't work on my nerves, you chew on them with razor-sharp fangs, you gnaw at the scabs from previous annoyances, you IRRITATE me. is that coherent? a little?

oh god i can't even write about happy care-free things because my chest is scratching uncomfortably after thinking about you and how your face can't change and how the pitch and the tone of your voice pierces my eardrum and makes my palette feel itchy in the most impossible place to reach, am i still blabbing incoherently?

i'm definitely a nocturnal person, it's when i'm most awake. which sucks, because i'm not a STUPID vampire. stupid vampires.

i'm sorry for ever saying all those things i never meant. i don't have reasons, or explanations. no excuses, only questions. why did you believe me? why do you STILL believe me?

why do i talk so much, why am i a social idiot, why do i never know what to say, why why why why why why why

i'm exhausted. excess, take, nobody, why, hopeless, pointless, useless, helpless, pathetic, ridiculous, over-the-top, too much, excess. it's a sharp shock.

you're cute :)

greenhouse & global

i'm so sleepy and i want too much attention. i'm bored and my hands feel funny. last night was cold, and my blanket fell off of the bed. i wasn't happy when i woke up, but i'm happy now. i sound staccato, and it's gotta be annoying, so i'm going to make my sentences nice and lengthy, not too lengthy though, like this one is now.

today is another bunch of shit day, i'm in a make-believe polygamous relationship with my hero and bliss, and tomorrow is our make-believe one week, i think i'll pick them hayfever-inducing flowers. not because they're hayfever-inducing, but because it would be the make-believe relationshippy thing to do.

there's this addictive gene in my family, and everybody has this tendency to get addicted to things. many things. i think i'm addicted to attention (amongst many other addictions), but not "all eyes on me" attention, just one-on-one attention, i like it when people hold my hand, i like it when people tickle me, i like it when people play with my hair. is it weird?

"well, eggshells are not easy to hold; we uncurl and unwind while we sleep side by side."
such a good line.

elevator straight into my skull.

you beat me to it, he beat me to it, she beat me to it.

it was considerably shit of her to leave like that, we're kids, and now she's crying, she's grovelling. she says she's scared it's going to leave a 'scar' on our relationship. well, wake the fuck up, honey. i think i've learnt that mixing alcohol results in ugly things, things like slaps and screams.

she said things she shouldn't have, and my sister just told me she wishes i had a car, so that we could run away and never come back. she said it sincerely, i'm scared she hates it here. and i get to leave for week after week, and she's stuck. although, it's not like the place i go is paradise personified. it's kinda a stuffy shithole.

as soon as i can drive, i'm going to kidnap her, and were going to go be cool somewhere else. smoke lots of cigarettes, drink lots of good coffee. we're going to go watch gigs, and we're going to play guitar, and use the inside of the guitar as an ashtray, because ash won't change the sound. we'll just have to throw the butts away somewhere else.

anyway, maybe i should just pull myself out of that daydream before it gets way too good.

this is shit!
fuck, what would i do without the kills? what did i do before them?

fooled myself

everything is perfect, everything looks pretty. everything smells sweet, tastes electric. it all adds up, and fuels her addiction. she finds it hard to divert her eyes. she becomes tactile, and then she finds that her heart pains, something a little like the pain you have in your stomach after refraining from eating for far too long.

of course, this pain of the heart is then associated with a hunger, and her mouth waters. her tongue flicks across her lips and she can almost taste what is to come. decadence from another world; in a league of its own. her eyes glint in anticipation, and her teeth begin to clatter. waiting is an endlessly torturous experience.

she can no longer play with this distraction in her palm, she must have what she came for in the first place. her heart has become erratic and the appetence pangs are gradually becoming unbearably persistent. she attempts to occupy herself by trying to name the unrelenting pain. she comes up with desire; yearning; want; vacancy; void; famine.

she hates to sound cliche, so she says nothing. she talks, but she says nothing. there is so much she could be saying, so much she could elaborate on. but she speaks words of unimportant excess instead.

because saying anything notable would bring about vulnerability. and everybody would be able to see, everybody would come to their senses.

this slurred speech is my own.

lyrics make so much sense sometimes that it starts to scare me. words placed in the right order can portray such intensity that i feel like i want to run away from the music, but my feet won't move. it's a creepy sensation, really. it's like my heart separates, unnoticed by me, half of it yearning to indulge in the soppy emotions of the song, and the other half pushing and pulling in the opposite direction. and i'm left with a sizeable fissure, causing my heart to splutter frantically, and trip over itself like a puppy with paws that are hopelessly too large to move in anything akin to fluid motion. then the song is over, and my heart seamlessly becomes one again, and bounces against my chest irregularly, slowly picking up some form of rhythm again. even though my heart hardly maintains a steady pace anyway.

which sucks sometimes.

i asked around about the obsessions, and it is as i expected. nobody feels like i do. nobody practically falls in love with everyone and everything. i'm beginning to doubt the things that i feel mean a lot to me, because now that i have uncovered this unfortunate trait, i find it hard to discern between insignificance and importance. why does nobody else feel like i do? why do i always feel so much? why do i always feel more? why am i always the pursuer? why do things i chase always have to be chased after? when is someone i want ever going to rush after me? why do i think about things so much? why do i feel so much? too much? why do i want more than people have to give? why am i always so expectant, so disappointed? is there more to this? is there ever going to be any more than these trivial boys and girls? when are humans going to begin to gain depth? meaning? will there ever be anybody for me who feels as much as i do? will anybody ever match up to my intensity? will anybody ever ignore the other shit and try?

why do i have so many unanswered questions? why am i still asking?

one week of danger.

it's rocking the daisies today, and i can't go, and it's driving me crazy. positively mental.

why does she say we're immature and why does she wonder why we surround her, when she doesn't stay away? if she hates some of us so much, why does she stay there? she only makes it unpleasant for herself. i don't understand.

i also don't understand why everything has to be so fucking complicated. why do things have to change toward some people? why does everybody so sex-saturated? why does everybody judge so blatantly? why does everybody act? why doesn't anybody get it?

why?

i think i have end-of-year syndrome. everything is bothering me, everybody is annoying me. i want to slip somebody some poison or bite something really, really hard.


i don't want this anymore. i don't want to be judged anymore. i don't want to watch every word i say.

designer drugs.

what is happy? man, i'm happy.

i feel delirious sometimes becasue so many thoughts rush through my mind, and they make me drunk. it's all so flowery and colourful and warm and it's making my head spin. in a good out-of-control way. and then sometimes, one person speaks and says something irrelevant, unnecessary even, and my rosy thoughts melt away, then everything is dark and gloomy. but the flowers always come back :)

i had such a good post the other night, and then somebody took my phone and i was left without internet access. now i have forgotten. it was something about fervent heat, and how emotions can feel warm, or cold.  i realised i said the wrong thing, crossed the line and instantaneously, my chest was doused in ice-cold water. it's just what it feels like. you say the right thing, you probably cross the line too, but you say the right thing, and the heat rises from my chest and warms me all the way down to my fingertips. things like that are cool. it was better the other night though, in bed, because i was listening to music and i was somewhere that was rosy and gloomy, somewhere sentimental, and that's where all the good shit happens.

probably not popular is fun now, because we have a song, and everybody has a part. we're going to go big, and if not, we're going to have a lot of fun hubbly, wine, and mighty boosh nights. we can play balderdash too, and sleep outside on the balcony under the the pretty sky, because it's summer and it'll be warm. and it's so beautiful on the balcony, everything looks prettier.

i've wanted to blog for so long and now i'm here, and now i've got writer's block.

what is sally here for?

it really is shit.

when you do the things you do, i feel like, if i jumped really high, i could literally lift off of the ground and stay there.

even though you annoy me so fucking much. well, come to think of it, it's probably why.

you shouldn't worry so much, think so hard about everything. you should let go and laugh like you sometimes do. only sometimes, though.

no delicate strings of pearl.

i can't decide if i smell more like a brewery or an ashtray. my sister says asthray, because my whole room smells like smoke.

i like city & colour, and i like the song "the girl". but what i really like is the hidden track after "the girl". it's pretty. and sleeping sickness, and sensible heart. and i don't know the names of the other songs.

it's sunny today, and i wish i could play outside. unfortunately, though, as much as one glance in the direction of the sun results in a sharp, lingering pain somewhere near the back of my skull. maybe i'll put on sunglasses and wrap a towel around my head and go lay outside, just to feel the warmth. i wonder if i could play guitar like that?

i'm listening to this song called "obsessions", and it's got me thinking. does everybody get as fixated with something as i do? is it normal to feel a pull in your chest when you hear a pretty song or see a pretty girl? because it's such an odd sensation, i don't know how to explain it. it's like my heart is already there and my body is trying to follow, or like my heart really wants to be there, and it bubbles up and pushes against my chest. am i the only one, or does everybody else just hide it exceptionally well?

pleasantries.

the day after tomorrow we go back to school, to hostel; to reality. these holidays have been like a dream. my mom's in brasil and my aunty is ridiculously easy to lie to, it's funny watching how she eats it all up. anyway, therefore i have been blessed with freedom.

i'm happy it's ending though, because nothing can be this perfect and last. so before anything or anyone fucks out, it should end. avoid conflict :)

i just woke my sister up when i got home from buckley's (perfect night), and now she wants to go back to bed. she told me she kissed a boy and she smoked hubbly :) it's so sad though, i wasn't with her. oh well, i'm gonna go to bed too.


life is so good, i don't want anything to change. is that cheesy? am i sounding like a soppy facebook bumper sticker?


and why the fuck does she have to look the way she does?

can i have you?

my evening has been an emotional rollercoaster. it started with a fight over the silliest things, really. she was practically raging about things that already happened. why waste the energy and emotion if i'm fine? if i'm all in one piece, right in front of you? anyway, that made me cry. it's so degrading when that happens, because i can't even get my point across through all the tears. and then everything i say comes out pathetically small and irrelevant. which is not what it sounds like in my head.

after that, we hugged and  made up, which made me cry again. then we went to hire a movie, and i thought it was going to be lame, but as i type this, and think of it, my throat closes up all over again. it's called the secret life of bees, and it doesn't even really have anything to do with bees, and i also want to say that the cover or poster or whatever doesn't do the movie justice. i cried so much that i had goosebumps, and i was convulsing. whenever i start thinking my life is shit, i should watch that movie, because compared to lives like that, mine is dandy.

now i'm listening to city & colour, and all the lights are off except for this blue-ish glow of my laptop, and it's a little hard to see the keyboard. i'm alone, and this music is extremely sentimental. i'm sinking into my little happy place, and truthfully, it's not really even that happy down here. it's like i'm emo, but i'm happy? like, i could write paragraph after paragraph on how it feels when my tears well up and spill over, and cool down on my cheeks until i feel icy tracks all the way down my neck. but i'd be crying because this music is so pretty that smiling and laughing would spoil it.

that made sense in my mind. maybe i am a little emo and directionless, but it's okay. i've never been happier.

music.

list 10 musical artists you like, in no specific order (do this before reading the questions below).

1. florence + the machine

2. she & him

3. angus & julia stone

4. the kooks

5. kings of leon

6. the shins

7. arctic monkeys

8. the kills

9. city & colour

10. regina spektor

what is the first song you ever heard by number 7?
riot van

what is your favorite song by number 8?
oh, shit. i don't know? probably hitched

what kind of impact has number 1 had on your life?
her voice gives me goosebumps?

what is your favorite lyric(s) of number 5?
i don't know, they're lyrical geniuses, i can't pick

what song by 6 makes you happy?
kissing the lipless

when did you first get into 6?
around three months ago

how did you get into 3?
my friend's cousin brought it from australia, and she showed me one song, and i fell in love

what is your favorite song by 4?
i want you

how many times have you seen 9 live?
never

favorite album by 7?
whatever people say i am, that's what i'm not

what is your favorite song of 1?
heavy in your arms

how did you become a fan of number 10?
my dad liked one song, so i bought the album, and then bought all her albums

who’s the most attractive member of number 8?
alison mosshart!

what song of 4’s do you listen to the least?
all over town

how long have you known about 9?
only a few weeks. maybe a month or two

top 3 favorite songs by 5?
molly's chambers; soft; california waiting

what’s your favourite cover by number 3?
you're the one that i want

have you seen 6 live?
nope

have you met any of 2?
ah, i wish

what’s your favourite album by 1?
lungs

favorite lyrics of 3?
"i'm so wasted, so wasted on you"

what is one of 10’s best songs?
blue lips

how many times have you seen number 7 live?
not once

what’s your favourite song by number 6?
kissing the lipless or phantom limb

fried my little brains :/

she is a sex god. she is smouldering. i don't get how one person can hold so much cool and pretty and sexy in one body. plus all the blood and guts and things. i mean, she is just so awe-inspiring; she sings in two bands. two really cool bands.

tonight, bliss and i were just surfing the net. you know, nothing serious, just fooling around a little bit. then we stumbled across new photographs of her, and i have a feeling we have both fallen in love with her, again. from scratch.

she's so hardcore. she's also probably the biggest non-straight-edge person i've ever come across. which makes her even more hardcore. she has this pretty disgusting cough (so fucking hardcore), probably from smoking so much. she even smokes on stage, during the performance.

i'm just glad i'm not the only one with this unhealthy fixation.
ah, alison mosshart.

btw, taylor has been re-christened. from now on, she is mothly.

unsound.

hangovers are accumulative, and i bet that's a fact. i think if i had to take one more sip of karate water, i'd keel over. right there.

i have a feeling my family is screwed beyond any kind of help. i mean, i don't think that any shrink would be able to even pretend to wrap their head around our fathomless absurdity. and what's weird is, i like it this way. from an outsider's perspective, we probably appear brainless and deranged. but really, we're only a bit flaky. well, at least we understand one another. inter-family-ly.

making up words is the the shit. i'm seriously going to go into that. study english, get some kick-ass degrees and shit, and put them up on my walls to look pretty, so that i can just fok voort and make up words. i'm probably going to make up all sorts of translations for cool afrikaans sayings, like "fuck forward".

"have you ever woken up with a bullfrog on your mind? you wake up laughing, laughing just to keep from crying.
have you ever woken up with that one woman on your mind? you wake up laughing, laughing just to keep from crying."

these cancer-sticks are going to be the death of me. i'm going to end up with a ghastly lung disease. bliss just suggested i say "killer lung disease", which is a pun right? a little? because, a lung disease, in my case, would most definitely be fatal. anyway, it reminded me of last night, when rachel, hero, anja, bliss and i were playing balderdash, and after some time, we gave up on using the dice, and anja didn't notice until a little while later, and she asked "we're not using the dice, are we?" and rachel said, "na, that's how we roll." -- comic :)

i think bliss and i should get medals for discovery. for uncovering. for being.
we're really cool, i think i'm going to start posting pictures of us, and pictures we take. and videos we take, where our faces are contorted by that apple photobooth application.

haha, i just reread that, and i come across as considerably egotistical. it's not how i mean it at all, i don't think i deserve a trophy for me, i think bliss and i deserve a trophy for us :)

i think this post is long enough now.

is it weird to have a little crush on your cousin? i mean, he's not my cousin by blood. he was married into the family. i can totally dig on him, right?

tantalize.

nervous company.

oh, how wonderful. it feels like all i do lately is lie, and paranoia is setting in. everytime somebody is just a little off with me, i'm scared shitless - scared that they've found out.

i feel like there's nobody who knows everything. individually, there's always something to hide. and fuck, i'm sick of all the secrecy. could life be any more miserable? and could that be any more addictive?

i'm happier than i've ever been, and i know that. but i'm miserably happy. happily miserable. whimsically fucked for life.

in a very optimistic way. spoken with a huge, lopsided, metal-packed grin. fangless grin.

i have just decided that "fangless" is probably the most harsh dig ever.

(most harsh dig? harshest dig? when does this speculation ever end?)

if i asked nicely,
would you
please get out
of my head?

oh, my wrists are weak.

i found my memory sticks.

i think i have a love-hate relationship with night time. i like it, it envelops me and has a welcoming persuasion to it. but it's so dark, so very dark.

i want to lay back and light up. but i lay down and my thoughts screw with my head until i feel irrevocably lachrymose.

and they're not even particularly sad thoughts, this amalgamation of words and pictures and memories inside my head. it's just, both the happy and the sad thoughts seem to hit home. it's why they're stuck in there.

it's why, no matter what, they won't leave me alone.

spur of the moment.

we're at spur, and it's fun. my friends are funny.

i lost my memory sticks, both of them, and they have pretty dodgy pictures on them. raunchy.

pictures of things my mom wouldn't be very pleased with.

OH, WELL.

so, it's been so long since you said.

well, now that i have successfully pimped my post about tegan & sara, i can start a new one. but i'm not sure how i'm going to go about this one. my head is swimming a little, and these puny letters on the (uhm, uhm, what's that word) keyboard? are just blurring together. and i can already taste tomorrows hangover.

i'm devastated. i went to the orthodontist today, and the asshole filed my fangs down.
he filed my fangs. he filed my fangs.
...he filed my fangs.

the little blunt stumps where they used to be give me the chills. like when somebody drags their fingernails down the chalkboard? or when you scrape the metal fork against your teeth? that kind of sensation. the spinning's gone. the taste is still there.

sometimes we can be so silly.