heart skipped a beat

When I see you again, I'll know not to expect 

Stay one step away, we will have to wait 

When I see you again and I'm greeted as a friend 

It is understood that we did all we could

it's hard, but not impossible

You're too young, you're never gonna know why it hit me
When I fell down in silence
No one thinks what I'm doing is the right way forward
You'll see it's not just a dream now

you and I both, friend

nostalgic for a time and a feeling and a place that you can't have back and it breaks my heart

sorry, not sorry

“You think that he cheated on you because you weren’t hot enough. That’s not true. He cheated because he was the kind of man who cheats, and I sought him out because I like men like that. They thrill me even in the predictability of their deception. You let your love run cold, yes, but only in the way that humans do. A more decent man would have stayed with you through the tougher times, stayed honest, and worked with you on building something that can create sexiness in its stability. He would have found you both comfortable and exciting, because he would be capable of seeing more than one facet of your humanity.” - How I Will Sleep With Your Boyfriend 

I died a hundred times

I loved you much, it's not enough
you love blow and I love puff

together, to be

I miss my youth. I have the worst case of night feelz and nostalgia. Nostalgia for a better time, a better me and also, some of you. The truth of the truth is that absolutely nobody will ever make me feel as young and or as happy as you did. I'm not in love with you anymore that would be ridiculous, that is simply the way my fucking life is. Looking through old posts and shit because assignments, I find that what I miss or yearn for is not the way I felt and what not, but for the special kind of hope only possessed by those still in the prime of their youth and naivity. And I can see it, positively radiating off our glistening faces, this subtle twinkle in the eyes of kids in love. I can fucking see it on all of our faces, pressed next to each other, making goofy faces to pass the ridiculous amounts of time we spent doing absolutely nothing. I can see it in the pinks of our cheeks, high off wine and love and debauchery. This is too depressing. I am absolutely and have always been, terrified of growing old and losing that. These things happen over time, like a motherfucking ninja. The thing about Life is you don't ever really notice things are changing until they have changed. God damn this is fucking depressing. I have a jonzing for all the times we've had. I know I've made some horrible mistakes in my life, but I wouldn't have had it any other way. Okay, maybe I definitely would have been better to you. But I still wouldn't have changed what I did and how I tried to make it better by giving everything to you, because it really taught me what it truly means to fucking love somebody. I don't want to be old and have no feelings and be fat and gross, somebody please save me ):

if you fall asleep down by the water,
baby I'll carry you all the way home

don't know how to love

Perhaps the most interesting week yet. I've been waiting for this for a long time and it's exactly what I expected: predictably unpredictable. Feeling overdressed in a pressed skirt and my favourite bag thinking I'd play the good girl for once. Not that you'd buy into that of course. It's comforting how easy things are, but to be fair, we are simply people with social skillz. Interestingly enough, I've stepped out of it so far that I can objectively see and pick apart exactly what you're trying to do. It's very clear to me that there is a hierarchy of girlz, and I am not at the top. I know about you and her which didn't surprise me in the least, what surprised me was that you felt the need to cover it up but well, whatever it's truly none of my business. It did feel nice to think that upon getting nostalgic, it's mostly the nicer bits (sort of ish) that comes up. The truth is well, people don't really change. Like I can paint myself as a grown up, nice girl saying shit like "you'll grow out of it".. but the nights always end the same way, sitting in a park somewhere reminiscing about the times we were naive and hopeful. The worst part had yet to come, lying in bed in the early morning when the sleep unclouded my vision and coming to the most awful realization of all. The night proved to me that although I will always, always care about you, I basically have no feelings at all. Once the last trickle of whatever it was we had faded away, I was filled with complete and utter emptiness. This isn't about you, it's simply about the fact that there has been nothing and or no one in the last few years of my life that has truly filled me with the sense of.. whatever these feelings are called. My life is easy and it's enjoyable. I get kicks out of all sorts of things that I actively do, I don't mean to sound ungrateful or boring. I just mean that it has been extremely long since I have truly fucking loved somebody. The last few years have just seen me getting by with like the worst of the worst list of idiots ever. The last one was the only one that came sort of close, but I've always known I could never love someone like that. Don't even think about this one, he's simpler a lesser version of the previous one. It's like, now that I basically have no fucking feelings for anyone whatsoever, well... then what?



I know you're really tryna kill me

I believe you, liar

Don't think I'm here for you when you're only here for yourself.

wknd grlfrnd

Post assignment week blitz-ed by. The previous one was spent hanging with the ants, obsessively messaging and pretending to avoid calls that last for hours talking about absolutely nothing. Certainly got too comfortable there. This week was worse, galavanting around town complaining about the heat, ridin' in cars, late night suppers and getting drunk on inappropriate weekdays #life. Last night while tangled in the sheets after horrible semi-drunk words spewed out of my mouth like air, an epiphany dawned upon me. First of all, I need to stop being such a mean cunt. No real excuse, but no real apologies either. That's just how I feel, so sue me. Not that you truly care anyway.. only a real man would. Staring right into your face as you looked up at me and those simple words parted from your lips, the bubble surrounding us broke and reality poured in. This is just what we are, this is simply the business we are in. This was never about me or her. This is about you and your search for whatever it is you are looking for. I spent this entire time thinking that the UK was our strawberry field but I was wrong and I was foolish. Nothing is real for you. See also: this. This whole time I've been so proud thinking, what a master I have become at escapism when the true champion was you. I understand the appeal of an age appropriate pixie, looking after you and your needs while still busking in the excitement of something fresh and or sneaking around. But I also understand the appeal of having something real, of feeling close to somebody and the comfort of a real relationship. Sure, relationship is a heavy word that will never come up between us but I don't mean it in a couple sense, I mean it in a human sense. I don't even think you know what that means.


give your reasons,
say it's not her fault

say it's not her fault

What does it mean to be home? The first week back consisted of: complaining endlessly abt the ridiculous heat, getting into trouble cos I just got home so free pass (lol) and being crazily jetlagged. The next week was decidedly quieter, rushing some disgusting assignment with this imagined pressure to always be #1. Last night was it's tuesday time to get drunk, making fucking inappropriate jokes and generally doing what I was not supposed to do. Reality is a bitch. See also: why do I have the worst friends ever. Like can you not.. I mean like.. CAN YOU NOT. Swear that information gave me a mild stroke while i sat there fucking smiling politely and pretending that these images weren't fucking burning themselves into my brain while my phone pings with your messages. UGH. I just want things to be normal, which they are.. except now I know where you've been and just.. eeeeeeeeee. The funny thing is that well, it really isn't my only friend. I'm very lucky for everybody and everything, even for the pressure there is for me to be "better", whatever the fuck that means. A lot of me resents this pressure and expectation there is for me to have somehow magically gotten "better" when, really, who was there to help me? It's naive to think that moving to a place where no one knew me or anything about my life would somehow make things easier. It doesn't. Yes, I screwed up. Yes, even in our little bubble of time and space I still somehow managed to corrupt things from the inside. Yes, I was wrong. Yes, I've been better. But also: Yes, I was happy. Yes, things were easy. Yes, from the pits of my mistakes and desperation, I found something almost real. So I was wrong.. so what?


You'll always have this
if you stay this man.