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Wednesday, February 28th, 2007
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So, there's this breach that I'm going to fall into.
My laptop killed itself. My music got eated. The definition got blurry, the soundtrack misplaced itself and turned into memory. Am i dead? My brain disappeared and every morning that bed is rancid but comfort in folds that hide the fact that there's an army marching over my head, and I'm trying as hard as I can to be a deserter whilst those feet leave imprints upon my skin. So I download something else, crack the can and breathe. Silence is anything inside my room, despite the fact the volume is pushed all the way to eleven. They all want to speak to me and all I do, all I'm going to do is run away, embrace silence and work it through in my own good mystical time, thankyouverymuch. Aggravating the straightening burn just makes me terrified of the kinks in my hair.
There's this disattatchment which has been cultivating itself in my brain for, well, years now? No man is an island. but having a moat brings that comfort. And so..../ constructing a little fishing boat. Invading France, rendering that army snapping at my heels obsolete, the whisper of a scream....Hellohello how are you? Disappear. Smile.
Where the hell are all of you? Where the hell has it all disappeared to?
I seriously did think I'd gone insane.
Dreams get insistently real and there's no finite solution except emptiness. Ensnared in the shadow of work and real work and that frantic, rabid longing to do anything, everything, as long as it's away from the oasis that snapped itself in two and leaked into the desert. Now there's no water left to quench the granite worrying at my throat. Living inside a balloon that is taking me nowhere except up until it splits and I fall, shapeless, into that bed again.
PRODUCTIVITY.
Heh.
RIP 27/01/07
Myself into endless spirals. Labyrinths of bone and arms and hair and cats cushion the blow. Acid eating at what's left up there.
Hey?
x
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Wednesday, September 21st, 2005
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Rhys Ifans should be Fagin so badly it hurts.
Rhys Ifans is the essence of Oliver Twist.
My ma is Rhys Ifans.
aberffraw/adventuring to the mcdougalls/casey's birthday/leeds '04 etc. pictures shortly, whence i find the damn camera cable, for all those who've been bugging me for them :P
luff and stuff,
rachy woo x
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Tuesday, September 6th, 2005
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*deep breath*
and....
seethe.
that is all.
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| Time: | 11:15 pm. |
| Music: | guess.. |
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i'm becoming less d
e
f i n
e
d
as days go by \/
x
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you ever feel like you're disattatched from your body? like all that's beneath you is just extranged flesh and bone?
i feel like that a lot at the moment. it's a strange feeling to only understand your own face.
.x
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Thursday, February 3rd, 2005
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had my first legal drink yesterday. soon, soon the arthritis shall set in. and then the hip replacements. and such. man i rule ^_^
cannee wait for tonight, shall be fantatasticalness. and i intend to get the dog drunk. again :D have beer but need more, so if you're one of the people calling at mine before the kray bring booze! utterly squeeness ^____^
wow, like, most pointless entry ever. i'm sure you all cared. what am i saying? of course you do. after all, i am fantastic :D \m/
bryter later guys and dolls x
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Tuesday, February 1st, 2005
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birthday tomoro :)
come the krazyhouse thursday night or be chewed. you have been warned. :D
.x
( i can't stop time.x )
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Sunday, January 23rd, 2005
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Saturday, December 25th, 2004
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| Time: | 10:41 pm. |
| Music: | Beth Orton - Central Reservation. |
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happy christmas people :)
today is whatever i want it to mean.x
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Saturday, August 21st, 2004
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Ali; "Rach, you really are the cunt of satan."
Rach; "to be honest, i prefer the phrase 'minge flaps of the antichrist'."
conversations rule \m/
yes, and here's my generic babble about how much i love ali, because i'm so cool and not predictable like that :D
to cut it short, i love ya, ya slag. <3
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prittypity's journal