thankyou

"you live life like a feather, randomly wondering along the breeze with no perception of where you are heading and because of that i love you"

i will be there to hold your hair back

it was past midnight. you can't sense the night here, only feel it upon the outlines of their faces, their sunken eyes, their footsteps dancing or turning into the ground they tread. but some make me grin and i have only time for those that make me grin, now. the city wails and swishes around me. i am drunken and i am strong.

the lights shimmer and shudder into me. all i want is a quiet place to read, a place to hold hands - to laugh with friends and a rooftop to see the sunset. dreams can only pollute. i keep my eyes fixed, hush out all thoughts. the heart is strongest above all things. i want the best for the ones i love.

you are alive, little miss, you are alive and your leg is caught in the window. what can you be? what can you be inside naked skin, beyond the guts, tangled with thoughts and desires and hopes? you can be anything, but your foot is stuck; drunken defeat, awash with the world. break out, reinvent, rediscover. please?

the life, suddenly, without warning, is whole again. loneliness, despair, the fight with the ego, movement, colours... all will lose its charm. i promise. what will settle in its place? i will wait to define it, but it is good and true.. it's all i know.


*put all excuses aside and remember this: YOU are capable

in the sky

nobody breaks my heart - effy stonem

you can take anything if you want it enough.


now you know.

free stereosonic tickets

thank you stranger at work. it's not important that this day resulted in losing my voice :)

katias 21st

3D. TRAMP. REVS.

you know we're trashed when we're no longer wearing heels and my hairs in a ponytail - we may not look like a million dollars but we sure as hell feel like it.



i don't know how it is i do it, but i love the fact that i always manage to end up with a glowstick. wew

frequently ignored

there are times when instinct drowns all which surrounds, like the snake which insists to swallow everything in sight. everything; trees, houses, elephants, people... desires, often, do not just arise, there is a provocation, an alarm, a bomb of lust.

my skin, as of late, whenever touched, explodes with tingling meteor showers. don't tell anyone.

a scent... beside me, the path dances with wild strawberries. wild strawberries. and in this moment, it's all that i could ever need.

this year, is MY year.



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wake up in the morning feeling like p diddy

at last, i feel capable of magical things, that my imagination can take me anywhere; that this, this is the life - one lived through which logic does not exist, to defy fear and pain, the risk to do stupid things without words to explain.

memory is a horrible thing.. may i never forget how it feels to be so full.



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masters and slaves to experience

i gaze deep down the throat of boredom and wonder if it's not what i have been scared to death of these past years. moving, but to what? i am verbose in my creation only to cover up what gurgles and burps beneath. the bored little girl in turn floods me with it. i am scattered easily.

but lately, things have began to strengthen. true, the blues gut me everytime but this time i become fascinated by my insides, by my reactions to small things that sting, killer bees of sadness. like him, i consume myself but only as far as to catch myself before there is nothing left to eat. the hole deepens everytime, my teeth sharper, an expert at self destruction. to destroy anything else would be far more challanging. you quit before it even begins, easier that way.

i have a challange for you: speak to three strangers tonight and find out something special about their lives


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what do blind people dream about?

it's excruciatingly annoying that i cannot figure this out.

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i call bullshit, BABE

this time of night either drowns me or sets me on fire. a new year - a strange; terrifying, joyful, exuberant and reconfirming experience..

perhaps some things inside me were killed for good. from the first stroke i have been delirious and intoxicated with expression. tonight is it's opposite, it's wretched caress. perhaps i am tired of no sleep and poltergeists. or this long spell without really writing anything. of wanting so much to learn things but never choosing individual things, giving them all my efforts. the curse of being so set in my ways. perhaps it's charlie and friends. the past few nights i have been marvelling at how happy and full i am.

i think the sound of another sleeping is the greatest in the world. liar.



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