my second home

duffy & abigale.

because i see your freckles

i never really liked you, i just want what i cant have.




if i were queen i'd lock up your loveless lips and turn your vile hips into sinking ships. if i were a bee i'd make you my hive and i'd dive right into your skin of golden lights. i'm just a clementine, one that they are quickly to mistake for an orange. believe what you choose, what you want isn't right for you.

ive only been in love once, i thought you'd come back anyway. i really need to start giving people a chance, theres plenty of fellas chasing (freaks aside). i had no intention of even getting to know you before you tripped me. i.fell.hard. stick out your foot, im waiting..

amazing

life.

i really need to stop being such a drama queen.

fuck you

jesus christ, that's a pretty face
the kind you'd find on someone that could save
if they don't put me away
well, it'll be a miracle

do you believe you're missing out
that everything good is happening somewhere else?
but with nobody in your bed
the night's hard to get through

and i will die all alone
and when i arrive i won't know anyone

well, jesus christ, i'm alone again
so what did you do those three days you were dead?
'cause this problem's gonna last more than the weekend.

well, jesus christ, i'm not scared to die,
i'm a little bit scared of what comes after
do i get the gold chariot?
do i float through the ceiling?

do i divide and fall apart?
'cause my bright is too slight to hold back all my dark
and the ship went down in sight of land
and at the gates does Thomas ask to see my hands

i know you're coming in the night like a thief
but i've had some time, o lord, to hone my lying technique
i know you think that i'm someone you can trust
but i'm scared i'll get scared and i swear i'll try to nail you back up

so do you think that we could work out a sign
so i'll know it's you and that it's over so i won't even try

i know you're coming for the people like me
but we all got wood and nails
and we turn out hate in factories
we all got wood and nails
and we turn out hate in factories
we all got wood and nails
and we sleep inside of this machine

fairytales

i don't live in the real world, but thats more than okay for now.
i. am. so. happy.

transparent

somebody very important to me made an observation about a barren wasteland. sometimes it seems that you just forget what you are capable of and resign yourself to a... to a sense of dependable emotion. fuck i don't know why it is so hard to articulate these things recently. easier to say that it is more comfortable not to be seen sometimes.

they said

what keeps you alive?

"we either make ourselves miserable, or we make ourselves strong. the amount of work is the same"
-don juan matus



there was a scottish man who lived on the folkland islands, investigating penguins for 2 years. at the end of his studies, he concluded that there had been a huge deterioration in the number of penguins living upon the island since the folklands war. he brought his findings to the government. they told him that he must have been mistaken and demanded he leave the island immediately and cancelled his visa. he said that his findings were a danger to the reputation of the islands for tourism. he left for a remote part of Patagonia.

around his house is a large steel fence with barbed wire on the top. he tells a reporter that he believes the folklan government is attempting to assassinate him for his endeavors. inside are video screens captured from the cameras that adorn his house. at night he watches the cameras with strict attention, guns stacked around him. 'can never be too safe', he says, 'but i adore these penguins, wouldn't swap this life for the world'.


i've thought often of this man; in a remote part of the world, silently waiting for the end to come while gazing out at the desolate landscapes before him through a video monitor, alone with his penguins.

sometimes work is just really fun

bare white dawn

"let us toast to animal pleasures, to escapism, to rain on the roof and instant coffee, to centrelink benefits and library cards, to absinthe and good-hearted landlords, to music and warm bodies and contraceptives... and to the "good life", whatever it is and wherever it happens to be."

i hate sleep. and wake. and anything in-between, really anything that causes me to become tired, which forces me into sleep, which is inevitably disturbed by wake, and thus the cycle of bitterness and resentment continues.

fuck. these. nightmares.

who needs a boyfriend.

the letter j

i am no longer with him but not longing to be with you. my head is dizzying in different directions and my heart is sinking to my feet. where do i go? what direction do i take for this adventure? yesterday was amazing. smoking, dreaming, seeing, existing, living. i'm slowly regaining touch. i need to maintain the level of busyness that will not allow my mind to falter. unspoken rules never work. under the blanket of inebriation old mistakes and stupid desires resurface. everything seems brighter in the dark of the night. relationships get to a point where there is just too much hurt to go back. six months of hell. learning curb. no more letter j's. i am single. just one. and ready for a new take on life.