Shush girl, shut your lips

Just to add some color I suppose. My mind seems to be lost in an empty space of detachedness, where nothing seems to be of importance or contain substance. Still. Money has stopped flowing and it actually makes me feel like I'm watching my life go down the drain along with the last swirls of water getting sucked dangerously down the pipes. That makes me really pathetic actually but gone are the days where I've even bothered placing importance on anything that doesn't have material value. This is my 400th post by the way. This is life; a bleak outlook blocked by four white walls. Ouch. If only I weren't so easily distracted and blinded by shiny grays and luxurious materials, I'd have at least started on my damn fucking school work. Some days I'm just stuck in a rut of repetitive notions and carbon copies of hours on end, all in my head. I suppose it'll be worth the wait as I repeat once again; good times will roll for us all.

Cos I like to be gone most of the time.

Send me an IM i'll be your friend

Don't you know we're gonna be alright?

Revolution

Living is easy with eyes closed,

Misunderstanding all you see.

It's getting hard to be someone

But it all works out.

It doesn't matter much to me.

Call me up before you're dead

This week has been substance-less. Nothing but a Marc by Marc Jacobs wallet and a River Island blazer on my mind. Which saddens me really, as I question myself for the millionth time: What my life has become? Swimming in decadence and superficial satisfaction. Lost in artificial artifacts. For lack of a better term (still); a hollow existence. And the only true escape that doesn't require money, doing anything illegal or faking it, involves lying and secrecy. Rebellion gets us no where I suppose. Roar. The amount of space that is surrounding me is ironically overwhelming as the drift rears it's ugly head. Curt comments dripping in sarcasm, not out of insecurity but out of spite and bitterness. Ha. And I know this is contradicting (or the exact reason for this spacey-ness) but the constant flow of people moving swiftly through and around me is annoying me fuck. Okay I don't deny my attention and tolerance level is ridiculously short but too much of this fucking familiarity is forcing me to seek change in a refreshing form of familiarity elsewhere. I think I may have actually finally lost it.

Singing, screaming, kissing, tugging

On the sleeve of how it used to be.

Black bird singing in the dead of night

Alcoholic weekend; today will be the forth day in the row. And a rather busy one; from the Club 21 sale to a bleak Friday night to the usual Saturday with spontaneous people to yet another trip to the Bazar to Borders to Much Ado to a Monday night beer. Yet somewhere in the midst of my chaotic whirl I have found stillness in familiarity. And company in an hour of need, sparing me of the loneliness I have become accustomed to after yet another crappy ending. But alas you are right and guards are up with eyebrows raised and angry gestures thrown in my direction. Oops. I don't deny anything being my fault so thou shalt not question thee any further. Or throw another hissy fit. Hawhaw. Ah I blame no one but myself. Plus wine just really fucks with my mind. Other than that and occasional insipidity,well and that, oh and the fact that i have lost two ball-bearings (one which we'll be seeing on the other end), I had a pretty good week succumbing to all my vices. Guilt is not a friend of mine.

Blackbird

Fly into the light of the dark black night