light reading

Wed, 28 Feb 2007 15:25:20 GMT

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

Wed, 21 Sep 2005 13:03:06 GMT

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

Tue, 06 Sep 2005 19:51:54 GMT

*deep breath*
and....
seethe.
that is all.

Tue, 12 Jul 2005 22:14:15 GMT

i'm becoming less d
e
f i n
e
d
as days go by \/
x

Pull me under.

Fri, 17 Jun 2005 12:59:54 GMT

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

Thu, 03 Feb 2005 10:29:20 GMT

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

Tue, 01 Feb 2005 15:32:36 GMT

birthday tomoro :)
come the krazyhouse thursday night or be chewed. you have been warned. :D
.x

Sun, 23 Jan 2005 22:07:42 GMT

or maybe just happy.
x

Sat, 25 Dec 2004 22:43:01 GMT

happy christmas people :)

today is whatever i want it to mean.x

Sat, 21 Aug 2004 17:49:08 GMT

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

Thu, 19 Aug 2004 21:32:09 GMT

oh, and before i forget...

All hail Shrimpy McShrimp, first shrimp of Rock! \m/

Tue, 03 Aug 2004 21:26:52 GMT

This party's gone on for far too long, and you're sick of the words in the mouth of that girl. Make conversation but too tired to fake it. Sharpened to points and dressing up to kill. Fuck your slow death scene, we want a riot for romance! We're still fearless as hell. Carried on sympathy, stretched out in the back seat. It's just one more way to make your mistake. We fell for your old tricks with nothing up your sleeve. (Got shocked by sound, a head like a sleepy ghost, you feel it inside your bones if ever you doubt for long. They can't bring an end to the soul. It just won't be left alone. It's something they can't control. We're set up to fall.) We pretend we still dream but the phone never rings. Want to go anywhere out of this world.

x

something substantial

Tue, 22 Jun 2004 18:15:46 GMT

or moreso, than other entries. given up on this practically, most has been deleted, made private, or the latter and then the former. reading back on pretentious bullshit is eight parts painful to two parts funny.

so yeah, life is...just what it says on the tin, i guess. i can't put a slant on it because i don't have a slant. i'm just not involved, curiously disattatched. or at least, i feel like that at the moment. it's no opposite, and if it is, it's a kicking, screaming opposite.
looking at the little tiny particles of dust in the air when the light hits them just right and thinking they're alive. staring at the arm of the man in the car, hanging out the window. wondering where he's been, where it's been, where it's going. wondering where i'm going.
nowhere, it seems.

reading, re-reading the lines in the book. twisting them until they make some meaning, aching for them to fit what feels. reading, re-reading the lines in a book. cringing over the handwritten ones.

and it all sounds so pretentious. and it all sounds so similar.x

♥fuckingthekissing♥

Sat, 05 Jun 2004 21:27:48 GMT

pink dreads :)
i feel sick. my eyes don't want to stay open. i probably should sleep.
bleh.
yes, you heard me, bleh.
x

Tue, 27 Apr 2004 20:38:49 GMT

i am waterproof mcloughlin.x

Tue, 20 Apr 2004 19:04:07 GMT

Blue smoke goes well with white linen. We may all live soapy, light-musical lives, but every woman had the right to die as Bette Davis.

Thu, 15 Jan 2004 18:04:20 GMT

Be still
clear
alert
you feel us touch you
you feel skin tingle
yes
we are present
and all things are as they should be
the pain will end
and all that is past is really that -
it is past
another tripswitch is always set in place so that you can't short ciruit
never be afraid of this
we know you are
but you are strong
and you are only given what you can handle.x

Somniloquy.

Fri, 09 Jan 2004 18:11:31 GMT

...............................................................................
Your gravity, your grace have turned a tide
In me, no lunar power can reverse;
But in your narcoleptic eyes I spied
A sightlessness tonight: or something worse,
A disregard that made me feel unmanned.
Meanwhile, insomniac, I catch my breath
To think I saw a future traced in sand
One afternoon 'as still, as carved, as death',
And pray for an oblivion so deep
It ends in transformation. Only dawn
Can save me, flood this haunted house of sleep
With light, and drown the ghosts that nightly warn;
Another lifetime is the least you'll need, to trace
The guarded secrets of her gravity, her grace.
.x

hazey jane

Sat, 13 Dec 2003 23:44:39 GMT

And what will happen in the morning when the world it gets
so crowded that you can't look out the window in the morning?

And what will happen in the evening in the forest with the weasel
with the teeth that bite so sharp when you're not looking in the evening?

And all the friends that you once knew are left behind they kept you safe
and so secure amongst the books and all the records of your lifetime?

What will happen
In the morning
When the world it gets so crowded that you can't look out the window
in the morning?

Hey, take a little while to grow your brother's hair
And now, take a little while to make your sister fair.
And now that the family
Is part of a chain
Take off your eyeshade
Start over again.

Now take a little while to find your way in here
Now take a little while to make your story clear.
Now that you're lifting
Your feet from the ground
Weigh up your anchor
And never look round.

Let's sing a song
For Hazey Jane
She's back again in my mind.
If songs were lines
In a conversation
The situation would be fine.

.x

no subject

Thu, 25 Sep 2003 11:37:41 GMT

and in amidst the obsenities i found the prettiest little thing (l)
atom bomb at bikini xxxxxxxxxxxxx

(_(game.set.and/&.match)_)

Tue, 29 Jul 2003 22:20:30 GMT

i cheat myself at solitaire.

Mon, 16 Jun 2003 23:09:27 GMT

slut kiss
girls
won't you
promise
her
smack
is she

pretty

on the inside
is
she

pretty

from the back?

slut
kiss
girls
won't
you
water
her
rack
is
she

pretty

on the inside
is
she

pretty

from the back?

slut
kiss
girls
molasses
rot
black
strap
is
she

ugly

on the inside

baby

ugly, ugly

from the back?

Thu, 29 May 2003 16:44:34 GMT

Dinosaur Jnr
You are a fragile, misunderstood rock band. You
want to a be loved and admired and because your
combination of solemn lyrics and great riffs
you are. However fame could never fill the hole
in your heart

Which Pre-grunge band are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

Tue, 27 May 2003 21:28:08 GMT

I get all...numb
When she sings it's over
Such a strange numb
And it brings my knees to the earth

And God bless you all
For the song you saved us...

You're the same...numb
When you sing it's over
Such a strange numb
It could bring back peace to the earth

So God bless you all
For the song you saved us...oh...
For the hearts you break, everytime you moan...

I get all...numb
We're the same numb
And it brings our knees to the earth

So God bless you all
For the song you saved us...oh...
For the hearts you break, everytime you moan
And God bless you all on the earth