(no subject)
After an amazing weekend in London picnicing, drinking altar wine, obliviously eating breakfast with someone from Led Zeppelin, buying shirts that would more suit a Georgian court dance (on a man) than the halls and stairways of the grimey clubs I frequent, and ..oh, seeing John Cale and Patti Smith and having my life changed (again) and the very bonds of the particles in my body shaken and dislodged, I am housebound with some sort of terrible illness which could be sunstroke, could be food poisoning or could be terrible, terrible repurcussions from taking pills and dancing like a rude gyal at M.I.A on Tuesday.
The last day and a half has been spent green and pale on bathroom floors, exhausted from vomiting, lay on an unfamiliar bed trying to distract myself from the firework display taking place in my stomach, and sobbing from frustration at dawn. You need to understand that a wasted day and a half is unspeakable for me, I can only do nothing if it really feels like I am doing something.
However I sort of feel like I am steadily recovering although I can still clearly hear my intestines wailing and disolving like the Wicked Witch of the West. I have Death In Vegas's "Dirge" on repeat and am simultaneously thinking how much I'd love to fuck to it whilst at the time time finding the idea of sex repulsive. I have Simone de Beauvoir, Bom yeoreum gaeul gyeoul geurigo bom and jasmine rice, but I still feel shitty. Please send me get-well vibes because I miss my boyfriend and, more importantly, I want to go dancing at KF. thnx.
(ps. cutout is fab)
The last day and a half has been spent green and pale on bathroom floors, exhausted from vomiting, lay on an unfamiliar bed trying to distract myself from the firework display taking place in my stomach, and sobbing from frustration at dawn. You need to understand that a wasted day and a half is unspeakable for me, I can only do nothing if it really feels like I am doing something.
However I sort of feel like I am steadily recovering although I can still clearly hear my intestines wailing and disolving like the Wicked Witch of the West. I have Death In Vegas's "Dirge" on repeat and am simultaneously thinking how much I'd love to fuck to it whilst at the time time finding the idea of sex repulsive. I have Simone de Beauvoir, Bom yeoreum gaeul gyeoul geurigo bom and jasmine rice, but I still feel shitty. Please send me get-well vibes because I miss my boyfriend and, more importantly, I want to go dancing at KF. thnx.
(ps. cutout is fab)