BECAUSE I CAN.

Darling.
STFU.
No one cares.

You can't make me suffer for the crimes i have not commited.
Just leave.
In your absense i shall be everything i want.

there's the door.

Right Now and Resonably.

I am veryveryveryvery angry at everything and no one in particular.



I've been listening to songs that make me cry,
because I feel like crying.
I think maybe if these tears run away they'll take that feeling with them,
but the feeling stays.

I have been drinking water out of tea cups and trying to find you.
It's never a good thing, is it?

I will jump from the top of a building and enjoy the fall.

Almost Yours.

I will try to be happy,
but you're so far away,
and tonight I will listen to your voice over and over and over and over and over again.

And I will read every single letter and think about how I should be telling you how I feel instead of listening to The Smiths and crying and wondering if anything's possible anymore.
But I won't, at least not right now.
Maybe I will someday,
but it's too embarassing,
to scary,
to cliché,
and far too real.

I don't like you being so far away,
but I don't like you getting too close either,
come home so I know you're safe.

I will go to sleep now, rocking back and forth singing to myself.

it gets better it gets better it gets better it gets better it gets better it gets better it gets better it gets better it gets better it gets better it gets better it gets better it gets better it gets better it gets better it gets better it gets better it gets better it gets better it gets better it gets better

Yumm.

So I get off the phone and think, finally,
I have made it past what I thought I was,
And who i am,
And now i don't need to worry.

Tomorrow is a new day,
Tomorrow is a new day.

But then i look at the backs of my heels,
And I realise I am mistaken.

I want to fall down, take you with me, all the way down.

I want to be an anorexic, empty mess of a girl.
I want to be helpless, hopeless and vunerable.

Then maybe you'd think about someone other than you.

Birdcages.

So I watched Bridge To Terabithia yesterday and decided i need birdcages hanging from my ceiling, and a sun above my bed.

(and cobwebs between the cracks in the coffee)

I also need :

1) time to keep in my pocket.
2) musical notes to thread through my hair, and round my neck and through my fingers.
3) a love that i can hang from trees, and buildings , and clocks on the side of churches.

I'd like to go fishing.

It's currently a rainy Sunday in glorious South Dublin.
Cold and carried away, but I'm still here.
Bored, naturally, without the will to do anything.
Listening to the new Meg & Dia album, Here, Here and Here.
Which is rather splendiferous.

When, in reality, I should be knee deep in notes and theorms and mourning my broken calculator.
In fantasy, I am sitting beside a warm Greek ocean, watching my hair dry wispy and twisted, and letting the salt crust over my elbows and fingertips and knees.

Damn the weather, I'd like to go fishing.
Not to catch guppies, but to bask in the poeticness of it all.

And that is how my mind works.