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'Little One' my parents call me affectionately, i feel like it.Its really fuckin big here, i'm overwhelmed.A voice tells me I can do this down the phone whilst I look out my window of the 2nd story flat onto the brixton Street.Squeezing a ciggarette between my fingers I wonder if he knows me at all, he hasn't seen the anxious, feary me.Thinks I can take all life has to throw - doesn't know I'm a bad catch. I whisper his name trace a J on my wrist, my crusader I could do with your armour bout now.
Habits and Rituals.Picking them back up bad and good.A bagel for breakfast-jam and peanutbutter, a cup of lady grey tea reading the morning paper(good).A ciggarette later chewing my cheeks fretting about my capabilites(bad).Fuck PMT and its mood swings, at least i hope thats what it is, it does it to me everytime. Even when you know, recognition doesnt help you still feel the monkey crawling up your back clinging on clawing.The itchy scritchy nothings right, its all screwed, what'm i doing its all wrongness, fuck it all and pass me the chocolate.
My friends may never have money but they will always be interesting.They are involved, enquiring people with passions and no pretentions.Not like these preppy fools, staters of the obvious a most infuriating trait of those who know little.Regurgitating tripe.Shut the fuck up, why say it, dont assume knowledge, pushing your idle statement like its gospel in my face.Take your breats from your mouth and listen up bimbo.The stupidly rich at play, i never want to know these rules.Its horrid and home beckons like a siren. Makes me cringe makes my brilliant bud cry.
show you something
If you crouch right down you'll see it
below that there
Give me your hand then
Ill point your finger to it
show you where
maybe if you stretch right up.. no?
i know, lay back
Ill put my hand on your chest
Try to describe where it is
Its right there you see??
No that's not it
forget all the other stuff
its just there
oh wish i could show you
maybe later then
when its brighter you'll see it
Ringing in my ears, stinky, sweaty tired-my first night out in london.A bboy gig in Covent Garden, the crowd was young but im starting to notice that more think that means that im getting old. Some good tunes some shockers.I danced on the obscenely packed dancefloor, politely disuading strangers from grinding up against me. What is the etiquette there? Londons getting better still doesnt feel like my sort of city too many faceless, up to me to give them features, names...water girl, curly girl, sebastion. Remembered to have future dreams today,was too lost in now.
A slow easy Sunday, with many a hot bevy. Should've been doing stuff, guilt ever present.
I lost my dog today..an exit caused by my own deeds. So fuckin sad, that simple,utterly mad, unconditionally loving mongrel black dog...gone, no longer mine.Never feel her snuzzle my neck, feel her warm doggy pants against my chin, hear her sleeping yelps. You could sedate her by rubbing her between her eyes, did they tell her new owner that? She's someone elses out on a farm barking in the wind.My beautiful dog saddest bit is she won't remember me.
Mind the gap.Indeed. Its stuffy.Im Bleeding. Its a monopoly board. Apparently Im flat. Too much the same. Its not that i dont think i could get a grip on this city, im just not sure if i want to touch it. The tinkerer might make it here, maybe i should call her out, give here a desk a stall. Start the scribbles make a list.My family keeps asking after my last lover, i cant stop thinking about my new one. The past one is blooming doing disconcertingly well without me, what does that mean?
Im losing it.
A thud on the carpet, sends me running, surprises pushed through a slot in the door. Treats and treasures, so much generosity this man has got me shy with pleasure. Where is it going though...how much should i let this new love impact my life.Im trying to make my own decisions, go on what i want but when what you want is another all things are altered. Im spinning with options and cant focus. Got a job here today and unless some sorta sign says otherwise ill take it...but then fuck...Im sliping I can feel it,.
- TV intoxication. Trying not to think, avoiding choices. Had my lack of skills and profession thrust in my face today by a bearded man with bad taste. Tears on the tube. Images of lying with him hold me here, memories of fucking him give me comfort. But im so bendy, i know if asked id change my plans in a second--triangle on the tarmac.I want to make people proud be all they think i can..if someone would just tell me what it is. I'm just a fool girl getting older, insecurites turning into character traits..my weaknesses all to visual.
If feelings dont dictate your actions than what does or should. I'm full of him today, stepping out jivey into a morning full of fantasies.I wonder exactly how many words weve swapped? For some reason Im more spritely than ive felt since arriving..check my mail and CHA seems he's been thinking the same thing and i want fistfulls of him. yeah yeah i know its good for me to be on my own rah ra rah but i want to sniff his dreams before he wakes..billow up the sheets and let them float back down on us.
Need to pull back . Im caring too much.
Came to a contemporary gallery to think about modern love. Maybe its cause im younger, more impatient, but i cant bear the months i know i have to wait. Looking at the murky thames rushing by and this city tells me nothing of its nature, it'll grow on you they say, well its more growth like from this angle. We might get some time in months away then what? Ahh im a demanding girl wanting too much from a man who knows what he wants and wisely loves not all it is.
Its starting to work, im starting to work, now how'm i gonna make this work? Legs running nowhere under the covers, just making heat. My bud chatters next to me we're speaking nonsense of the no-sense lives we're living. talking of kings and bread and butter, boys named boris and bees under the bed. The window from my bedroom looks out to a hospital for the unstable, my landmark for my street says bumps ahead, theres the church of the enlightend gospel down the road, a fruit shop that just sells pot and dealers on the corner that say good evening.
Folk arent fond of eye contact here, not that home is the gday mate fest some may have you believe. If you do meet a glance and smile it'll normally come back. I didnt realise how much i do smile at strangers till i came here.Theres no shared moments in this town. My vanity is suffocating here, good for it really, theres no standing out here. Friends cling tighter here, solid and close knit where there are so many and so many more they're huddling together keeping it warm.No casual contact, no grins on the tube harsh city.
First day of work, fine enough. Colleagues are friendly, dont feel too outta place. Admin blah but fine. There'll need to be more work though, lots to organise, my heads making lists. I want words from him i know theres some waiting in an email. alphabet pleasures. There is love awaiting, i want to stop and squeeze people and find myself touching everyone i talk to, holding fingers when getting a light, my hand resting on arms and thighs in conversation, fluttering warmth, for a form of contact.Life is taking form in mundanity i'm gaining back some footing.
Neverwhere- Neil Gaimans London based tale and i think of it. The hidden sides the bits im not involved in. Its odd to think that now im riddled by choices where 12months ago i was rapt in fear, anxiety plaugued. I couldnt shake it, had no more defences against it, tired and unwilling to battle. I assumed retreat. Anxiety is a right fucker all consuming attacks rushes of crazy fear that would make my eyes blur, stomach turn, head faint, heart hammer.So tiring keeping it at bay. The worst thing was i was left feeling pathetic and insane.
third day of work and it already feels scarily familiar. Walking down the corridors and it already reeks of routine, flashing my card ID pushing through the grill climbing the stairs getting buzzed inside.< br> J's giving me fantasies, his growling accent sliding wires, leaning out my window into the seasons turning winter air, before inkyness takes the blue from the sky and the clouds are that weird orangey city glow; i have his voice in one hand a cigarette in the other. Were both somewhat flat tonight and for the umpteenth time i just wish he was here to hold.
Im a bit buzzy. I want more more life more cash to live it. Wheres the fucking replenish button huh? Its a hard realisation that all my money is gone. No sure way of getting it back.Work is slow which im not use to, normally running the show having a thousand things on the go, seems weird and idle and the hours crawl by. Terribly i like control like to know whats going on, no good at being told what to do, doesnt sit well with me. Im broke well and truly and its been years since thats occured.
Tonight futures attempted to be mapped. Me and my bud lying top and tale on the red couch therapist style. Sorting each others woes trying to steer a clearway through the murk of indecision. My most beautiful and brilliant friend, we're both looking for an anchor be it false or warm blooded.
Then i have him. Trying to keep my emotions compartmentalised, keep a slight detachment..play the role of cool chick, just gotta be convincing. He so casually said June and my heart crunched like the winter leaves at home, not like here cause they're always damp and slimy.
Saw Dj shadow play at the Brixton Academy. Bloody Brilliant. Pioneer of the decks.Good tunes make everything simple change the breeze and make all comprehendable.Grinning and swaying to beats pulled from records, some crazy beautiful stuff. Beyond just trying to make the crowd cheer (stupid british tools screaming for "anthems and Ibiza House" he let them done with a smirk). A new form of video linked sampling merging mediums smoothly. As the lights went down and the100 enchantment lifted,he bowed to the crowd and said thankyou at there screams. What a thing to do.
Stir some enthusiasm to call housemates potentials, go to see thier houses.
The first:Tooting Bec- Greeted by a tight t-shirt sporting boy with breasts and too much gel, Australian.Tells us he's a banker and used the phrase "yeah were all a bit crazy here". Trying so hard to seem unusual.
Second: Shepards Bush- Oz away from Oz apparently train ride there testified this. A tiny room in a horrid unfeeling flat overlooking a burnt out factory.< br> Third:Highgate- Old family manor in rich burb, all dark wood and trees nice but getme back to brixton.
The hunt goes on
A parcel of Joy today- letter from a guy i met travelling, stayed with me for a month. Last seen through teary eyes leaving for home at a train station. I issued him a cape and he gave me solace and hilarity...and fuck did i need them both.
Stirred from my slumber weary state by a call, can barely think when i hear his voice throws my thoughts skyward.
So little time has been torn off, only a few new pictures flicked over. One more month and my advent calender can begin, chocolate behind every door, my kinda world.
Ummmm Ahhh I missed it.In a home alone relaxed state i let these words halter. So the make up...
Saw the Herbaliser tonight rapt in beats and brass again, the last time was Barcelona.
Im feeling misplaced that edgy PMT depression is getting me natty--well that better be it. If it aint then its worse cause it must be my life and not my hormones thats got me feeling so wrong. Everything just out a bit.Home is calling strongly. If the job comes throught Ill take it, set up in Sydney.This work is bullshit, Time wasted.
I want to set up, set down and get to it. But leaving Europe? Who knows when i'll have the cash again. This just doesnt feel right though, and with pockets bearing lint and no dosh in sight,feel I should jump this red ship. Then home? I dont even know where it is now, what will i make of it all back there, what will matter most. There's rendevous and snow still to see, more there's more yet.But it's a fucking battle at the moment and i gotta beam ridiculous to get a mouth twitch from this crowd.
I was born in a town that gaped a red earthed slash in the dry outback of Queensland. A mining town, its very existence based around the hole.Land blasted open with explosives (my fathers game). We moved from there before I was two but I can still remember the dirt. The rusty red everywhere, i made mud pies with my tiny hands next to my silky eared red setter and ate them. Yep, tuckered down on dirt, handfuls of it passed over my barely speaking tongue. And now at 26 something in me still wants to engulf the ground.
Theres wasps in the house, coming to die in some final warmth.< br>.
Tarnished leaves pile by my door, i shuffle through them in my sneakers.
From the red couch i see a low fat cream moon but no stars.
.< br> My throat hurts but its so nice to have those little white friends back.
Its dark by 4pm.
An American boy in Prague writes tales to an Australian girl in London, they both dream of Istanbul.
In 3days I'll not have a room
In a new house there's a boy named Barny, hope its short for Barnabus
Thats where its at.
In a small bar in Brixton, high by proxy. A white cave space with big black couches. Met an art reviewer, television type, newspaper editor, a charming boy whose chat made me feel at home, a blonde girl grinding on coke, a sleaze named damien and a corporate hippy with lovely eyes. In london everyone starts with "what do you do?" and its not a general query. Job description is required, people seem more focused, you ask that at home you'd recieve a much broader answer... or maybe thats just my friends whom no-one is sure just what they "Do".
A restless stir is nibbling in my ear like a cartoon devil talking me into tricks and treats. I'm frisky as my mad black dog. She'd eye me from her sleep, packing my bag to head. And a no indication excitement fret would ensue. Actions in clumsy stumbles, sombre then estatic. A daytime crumble followed by a new city upbeat mood swing.In a day I've swapped my life ten times then ten times again. On the tube I dreamed/wished that Pan would take my hand and lead me out to some meadow and do what that god did best.
Searching for some intimacy on the streets of london is a losers game. I look at myself as i leave the house, and im a poorpers suit.Blandaramarama. Then theres the urges, with idle time at work to stray but not enough to ponder i daydream in five minute blocks. Kisses, gasps, soft skin presses. I talk lenghthy converstions to people i've really said five words too. Invoke scenerios of a most implausible natures. Does everyone dream this much? Or is there something about kids who had an imaginary playmate, something that keeps us forever concocting teaparties and whispering names.
In all my ways i want an undo function, at least 12 steps back. All my movements feel recessive and my supposed plunge here has wound up to be not into an aqua ocean but into the local pool full of chems and piss. The obvious stater would say its all a state of mind...But how the fuck do you see the good light here.? The last month has felt like four, my health is sliding dubious. I stare into the spreadsheet remembering the conversations of late that have altered my life; this is not the turn i envisioned.
Tonight I wanna fly outta here-- This month has been full of options and second guessed decisions. Ive cursed myself Stupid many times and wondered where the fuck my foresight is. Choices that spill over months, not having the set goal in mind to reach instead arriving in places hands in air acting like its beyond my control. Doing all i thought i wouldnt, the typicial Aussie in London working jobs i hate and complaining. I'll cry buckets when i see those home shores, and Ive never been patriarchal.To her skirts I'll murmer apologies for any bad thoughts.
A means to an end...Pieces of me are falling off. Tired beyond thought. 9-3 admin 5-2 waitressing, this is not good. Not a life I want, and yeah i might save some money, do some more travel, but will i be up for it after this? It's hard and dulling, not what i envisioned from home, i think Ive erred but now the dosh is down. Lost if i change my mind. Me and my bud look doubtfully at each other, tell each other its just two months and then we can do other stuff. We're not convincing though.
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