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I got engaged today! i've never been engaged before so its quite exciting. My ring is an edwardian gypsy ring, dainty and gold with three pretty rubys set in place. I like it very much. I also dyed my hair colour today from black to ruby red. I do this quite often but it's not been red for quite a while. I like it. It matches my ring. I don't know when or where we'll get married but I have many dreams in my head of what might be the perfect wedding. traditional. lots of family, friends.
Or Las Vegas?
I seen a picture of Salzberg in a magazine and it looked beautiful. I think it must be the perfect place to spend Christmas. I would also very much like to go to New York City this winter but that isn't going to happen. Maybe next year? Actually I wouldn't mind going to Paris next year, I've never been yet! And its so romantic. I may live in France one day. Oh, i'm forgetting Berlin! I adore Berlin and I'd love to go back there very very soon.
Oh magic season, take me. id like to be anywhere but here.
A memory palace is a unique and grand structure which can only exist within the confines of the mind. There is however, no confines involved in this wonderful world. You may choose to be your own architect and carefully design, build and fill your palace. the options are endless and the results spellbinding.
You must memorize the order of things and places to enable ultimate power over the palace. The palace may eventually contain such knowledge that it will transform you to a new consciousness.
in another sense, the palace could end up containing
how good is your memory?
a single breath
told me the answer to my future.
you were a prince running to find honour
and i was a girl entangled in danger
Until this moment i had not felt such need to thrust
we became the elements
love encrusted upon my body in a whirl
the meter running
minds made up, and im ready
you lay me down upon flowers
i gently purred
and the sun lightly crackled
back to the night
there was a charming presence,
but one which returns
not for long -
those days are gone.
when i was a child, i shared a room with my big sister. we were always inventing new games to play and spent most of our days creating fun for ourselves. I remember in particular "the invisible people" who used to live past the ceiling in our bedroom. They would visit us by climbing down invisible ladders and we would then play with the invisible children, dogs and kittens. Of course they were not invisible to us. We had made a secret pact together. A very invisible secret.
twenty years on, and i have never broken the secret.
i walked in the rain
and as i walked i remembered your face
and your smile
you probably never think of me
why would you?
i heard that you moved to new york - with her
i wondered how long that would last
i wanted it to end so badly then
i never wanted it to begin
and when i found out
it hit me like a bolt
but i had already hurt you
and perhaps you had felt a bolt too
you never ever knew how i really felt
and you probably never will either
(i'm over it)
its getting cold. i dislike the frostbite and the cracked air. the snow is romantic but its not practical walking to work in wellies. i never seen the sun much this year, or most years in fact, except for the time i went to spain. i could get used to living abroad as i constantly moan about the weather here. even in the summer it rains all the time and i hate the rain. also, umbrellas are useless when you live in a windy place. i can't afford a mink coat just now but but day i will buy one.
a chance meeting
folded into a hopeless romance
within the cold wintery city
I felt at ease
you were a mirage to me
or are now
an empty ideal of sorts
but deep in my heart nonetheless
infrequent and unsatisfactory
chance meetings only
preceeded by insane obsession
i would dream, hopelessly
skimming the surface
of my desires
you would tread
two eyes blinkered
a gentle soul reaching
to be held
gone are those times
now far away
i no longer feel your breath
or dare to hold mine
with thoughts of the
lost virginity of my heart
my sister turned thirty two today. I remember when she ran away from home as a teenager. She packed a rucksack and booked a train with her friend Christine. I later found out she had stolen sixty pounds from my dad. He used to keep money in a shoe box on top of his wardrobe and she found it. I guess she was desperate and in no sensible frame of mind at the time. I don't think she went away for long as she turned up a few days later asking for a meal. She had spent the sixty pounds.
I remember feeling deflated when I realised that cartoons were not real and life really was this dull. I think we have been given a rotten hand and I hope one day or in time things will change for the better. I don't really belong here and I feel I have missed my stop to into my true world. I can't help thinking that maybe this is a limbo land and here its the static nature to be benign of any magic or colourful character. I'd like to belong in a place where rabbits wear top hats and genies appear.
Im currently reading a book about the life of Edie Sedgwick. She was a socialite/artist/actress and a friend of Andy Warhol. She came from a wealthy American family who have a famous burial plot which is known as the "Sedgwick Pie". The Sedgwick Pie is very large and is isolated from the surrounding area by a complete circle of evergreen trees. Entering the area is like stepping into the distant past. The Sedgwicks were a unique family. Many of the household help are buried there. The Sedgwick dog is also buried there under a monument of it's likeness.
From the ages of two to nine, I lived in a horrible town called Glenrothes. We lived at the end of a cul-de-sac and to the front of us was a concrete football pitch. This caused many years of grief. We would frequently get our windows smashed by local thugs playing football and generally causing trouble. But what I remember most about the football pitch, or rather what I associate with it most, is the pigs head I once seen there. It was in a carrier bag. Apparently it had been found in the woods. There were maggots on it.
the most vivid dream I had a as a child was when I met a monster on the way home from school. my sister had left without me and I had to walk home alone. The monster was huge and scary and really ugly. I was terrified and I ran all the way home (to the end of the cul-de-sac). As I reached the house, the monster was close behind me. I ran inside where I found my mum with my sister. I told her a monster was in the garden. She looked out and merely said "so there is".
One day I will join the circus.
One day I will buy a caravan
One day I will drive a cadillac
One day I will go on a road trip through the states
One day I will live in motels and follow rainbows
One day I will own a big white horse and ride far and wide with wild abandon
One day I will travel on the orient express and have a beautiful adventure
One day I will soar high in a hot air balloon with the Baron Munchausen!
One day I will become an alchemist
I have itchy feet
I love cats but I can't have one because I live in a tower block. Our first family cat was called Sooty but we didn't have her for long. She was female and hyperactive. She ripped the carpets and the curtains. My dad nearly ripped his hair out. So she had to be returned. A few years later I got my very own cat and called him Bambi. He was pure black and sleek and proud. He used to jump magnificently over the hedges in the street when I called for him. He died of a cat stroke. R.i.p Bambi
I had quite a few penpals when I was younger. My Japanese one was very sweet, I remember she had green Sesame Street writing paper. She told me she didn't have a garden but when she looked out of the window she could see her neighbour's one. Oddly, this seemed to satisfy her. My French penpal was called Marie Lo, and we had been writing for a year or so and then I stopped finding time to write as often. The last letter she ever sent me had only the words "why don't you write me??" scrawled over the page.
I stood in a pyramid and thought about the puzzle of life. For a moment I couldn't hear a single sound. Not silence as there was an abundance of activity. But silence as we know it. I could smell wood and then a sliver of gold. I wondered where the birds had gone but then I remembered. I then walked through a passageway into a maze and could see the stars above me. I followed the dots into the centre point where there stood a bench. There was an old lady sitting on it. Awfully still. She smiled at me.
They say that in London you are always just a few feet away from a rat.
One afternoon when I lived in London, myself, my flatmate Carl, and Sharon were sitting in the lounge watching a film. Dividing the kitchen and lounge was a curtain and behind that a glass door. That day, My friend Sharon spotted something under the curtain and nervously asked if we had a cat. Of course we didn't and on closer inspection discovered that it was a rat. A huge fat furry rat. I felt almost violated.
Funnily enough, I now own two pet rats.
and tree trunk trousers
bidding for the largest lemon
on the shelf.
truck stop rainbows
and hounding horses
broken by a row over heights
and bed loads
in and out
of the creepers who creep
in the wild night
could be tamed
but don't want to comply
chucked and dragged
the ocean is alive with light
you crushed me
and it was joyful
just say no.
i filled the stocking
and a knowing smile
then you confessed your love
your hat nearly fell off
and we both laughed
five days until:
a big juicy turkey, mince pies, brussels sprouts, chocolate, bucks fizz, unwrapping presents, happy faces, santa's half eaten pie, bags of torn paper, yummy gravy, parsnips, the queen's speech, channel four's alternative speech, christmas number one, bourbon, pudding, tv specials, afternoon film, sleepy nap, bloated feelings, tiredness, deflation, dodgy paper hats, crap cracker jokes, mess, obligatory family phone calls, broken toys, bickers, a pile of dirty dishes, a slaughtered turkey, cold leftovers, drinking too much, no room at the inn, deflated, more questions than answers, falling over, staying over, and the foul smell of aunties apple turnover
cliff richard taking a quiche out of the oven. cliff richard taking a quiche out of the oven. cliff richard taking a quiche out of the oven. cliff richard taking a quiche out of the oven. cliff richard taking a quiche out of the oven. cliff richard taking a quiche out of the oven. cliff richard taking a quiche out of the oven. cliff richard taking a quiche out of the oven. cliff richard taking a quiche out of the oven. cliff richard taking a quiche out of the oven.
sir. cliff. richard.quiche. oven. calender. chuckle. gay.christian.tennis?
the wireless was at a loud, lewd volume
old blankets, colourless and faded
trinkets of no use
lingering and loitering
no direction to go
the colour brown
awkward and aged
a decade of blame
ripped and frayed
the odd yellow appearance
tumbling along at no useful speed
car fumes on school holidays
time melted into liquid gas
eroding onto an unfamiliar road
leaping at 70mph
while the wind changes i'm still
and keep your hand away from your nose!
someone is watching
mr know it all
whats the time in australia?
(cue waltzing matilda)
you told me to travel light. I packed six pairs of socks, six pairs of knickers, another pair of blue jeans (besides the ones I was wearing)and two jumpers. Then in went my make-up bag with the essentials - foundation, powder, mascara, eye shadow, lipstick and eyeliner. I grabbed my purse and my keys and headed out to meet you. It was a cold night and the wind was bitter. I looked back at my house and the street, with disdain, then strutted away at a characteristically fast pace.
I never returned. Just kept moving on. We had to.
you were intolerable
looking back I mustve been out of it
I have better judgement than that
there was love at the start
though naive and bare
and descending rapidly
in a crossfire
I suppose it was bitter
all sweetness out
a chapter I wanted to cross out
or set alight
and you pulled
and I pushed
then I let go hastily and ran
and you vaguely tried to pull something back
but we both know you never really tried
submerged in all of that
ever since the wind changed
The big top glittered with a smoky charm and exuberance. It was turning dark - the only time we can enter this realm. (The unforgiving daylight is stripped of delight and mystery.)
Tonight is thoroughly enchanting. The caravans are alive with activity. Performers throughout the camp are preparing for the show. Scurrying about emanating a lustful buzz, doing last minute preparations and breathing life into their costumes.
I wish to be involved. For those few hours I feel a longing so relentless and selfish with such an innate sense that I want to belong, and that I know I belong here.
Actual lines from The Sound of Music:
"The mountains are magnificent Gayog" "Maria's came back from the abbey!" "i've got a sore finger" "you can't run away from your problems, you have to face them" "With Fraulein Helga, it was a snake!" "they were blueberries" "I'd like a pink parasol" "I told you today I didn't need a governess, well maybe I do." "the Von Trapp family dancers!" "Somewhere in my youth, or childhood, I must've done something good." "Bachelor dandies, drinkers of brandy, what do I know of those?" "You brought music back to the house, I had forgotten.."
crawling up the stairs
intoxicated by the night
setting out to find him
my previous attempts thwarted
still, in vain
I refuse to give up
suddenly enchanted by the fragrance
of the dark night
bustling with life
i return to the street
a lost pedestrian
sounds penetrate me at will
a new beginning maybe
or a birth of sorts
sometime just after midnight
I meander through the alleys
like a black cat
i have aim
i lose my trepidation
and immerse in this mission
the cold black night looms
familiar and inviting in every way
- my only friend
I used to work at a quaint guest house in London called The Cottage Hotel. I needed both a job and somewhere to live at the time so it killed two birds with one stone, so to speak. I went for the interview which was with the owner, a lovely older lady called Mrs Wilkinson. I ended up getting the job.(Although i'd been under the impression it would be reception work, she told I was to be the breakfast chef.)Consequently, I coped okay but it caused me many sick mornings. Me, Camden and 6am starts didn't mix well.
the subtext read
like a rollercoaster
all lopsided and wriggly
i held my breath
and tightly shut my eyes
I was standing in a street in the snow. Around me were shops and people. It was snowing heavily. I recognise something....hah! I was in the scene from my snow globe! I walked over to the toy shop and looked in awe at the items in the window. A dolls house, a hobby horse, a bright wooden train set. I looked above and there was no sky. Only a silver veil spread over the street. How bizarre.
He wanted to draw a picture of a stampede but there was no paper left. He watched a dragon instead. The dragon was green and wearing a white coat. And he was wearing glasses. Reading glasses. I think he was a doctor or a dentist. Anyway, he didn't stay for long, must've been busy. He then spotted a dog called Melville. He was on stage and dancing. There were strobe lights in all colours. Red, yellow, green, black, purple, blue. The colours and lights spelled out the name MELVILLE in huge letters behind the stage. Corey loves to watch telly.
The last day of the year. A time to reflect? A time to turn over a new leaf? A time to chuck out the old and bring in the new? A time for new beginnings, perhaps? A time to turn all your wrongs into rights? A time to move on? A time to clean up? A time to re-assess? A time to be a better person, or plan to? A time for resolutions? A time for letting go of the past? A time to change all those bad habits? A time to change into a super hero and save myself?
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