(no subject)
time is passing very quickly, something which i am thankful for of late. apparently strangers are mocking the things i say when i write, but when i write i just type what comes and backspace isn't an option. none of this will probably make sense, all spelling mistakes included.
amsterdam the weekend before last was amazing. sinking buildings equals wonky skylines. bicycles everywhere and the smell of something green about. the pink floyd coffeeshop served multicoloured spacecake which i should've tried, but didn't. my sister bought birthday candles especially and i felt rotten for denying even a little slice, when i found out. i felt like such bad company; constantly zoned, mostly in a good way but i was always quiet. sometimes i'd think about the past few years and curse how things turned rotten apples just as things were getting better. but we live on. jo helped. her hug in the airport and the dutch chocolate she bought from the vending machines at night made me wonder why i'd never felt this close to her before. and now i feel like she's my saving grace. i could run to her and she'd let me. sarah is close behind, though, because tonight she gave me a pair of her favourite boots. i like sisters lately.
the trams were strange, and not at all like manchester ones. stepping off the plane we were in a train station, and we took a double-decker train out towards our camp site. and now when i travel to work some days i curse that i can't get a seat, and that maybe i would if we brought their trains over here.
people walk around, fucked up. people who have been there so long that you wonder if maybe they came for a weekend fourteen years ago and what was at home was just so terrible that getting wasted (and not good wasted, either) is/was a saner option.
i collected beer mats, tram tickets, empty packets of skins. post cards from the art museums we visited when as i walked around i was so bored that i wished i was back at the cabin doing arrow-word puzzles in take a break. but the bad bits were in minus numbers, largely. the only ones being the dire exhibitions and the foreign couple in the cabin next door who had sex so loud they woke me up a few times. one day it rained so heavy that it hurt and we stood in a shop doorway for ten minutes watching people ride their bicycles getting soaked to the bone. everyone runs when it rains, like they never got used to it, even though it always rains. you'd think that i'd be sick of it but i want it to rain more. something about watching it made me feel better.
one night we sat at the back of a coffeeshop and three french boys came and sat by us. one of them was beauty personified and another kept looking at me and smiling as my sister and his friend struggled to communicate. his english was worse than our french, times ten. in the end they went looking for mushrooms and we just kept on smoking. after the weekend i forgot what oxygen tasted like, so i smoked all last week, too.
the boys came over. matthew made a compilation cd that blew me away and i made them watch the wall while i fell asleep by the fire. i woke up in my own bed with axl rose hair and smelling of smoke and orange juice. and so the week continued.
the weed ran out by saturday, and i smoked my last joint poignantly before falling asleep laughing at a joke i can't remember. today sean paid me a compliment that meant more to me than he realises, and last night rhys dreamed of me.
next week i'm going to see kieran so he can take photos of me like this:
i think chocolate hobnobs and tea are a given.
postscripts for thursday:
amsterdam the weekend before last was amazing. sinking buildings equals wonky skylines. bicycles everywhere and the smell of something green about. the pink floyd coffeeshop served multicoloured spacecake which i should've tried, but didn't. my sister bought birthday candles especially and i felt rotten for denying even a little slice, when i found out. i felt like such bad company; constantly zoned, mostly in a good way but i was always quiet. sometimes i'd think about the past few years and curse how things turned rotten apples just as things were getting better. but we live on. jo helped. her hug in the airport and the dutch chocolate she bought from the vending machines at night made me wonder why i'd never felt this close to her before. and now i feel like she's my saving grace. i could run to her and she'd let me. sarah is close behind, though, because tonight she gave me a pair of her favourite boots. i like sisters lately.
the trams were strange, and not at all like manchester ones. stepping off the plane we were in a train station, and we took a double-decker train out towards our camp site. and now when i travel to work some days i curse that i can't get a seat, and that maybe i would if we brought their trains over here.
people walk around, fucked up. people who have been there so long that you wonder if maybe they came for a weekend fourteen years ago and what was at home was just so terrible that getting wasted (and not good wasted, either) is/was a saner option.
i collected beer mats, tram tickets, empty packets of skins. post cards from the art museums we visited when as i walked around i was so bored that i wished i was back at the cabin doing arrow-word puzzles in take a break. but the bad bits were in minus numbers, largely. the only ones being the dire exhibitions and the foreign couple in the cabin next door who had sex so loud they woke me up a few times. one day it rained so heavy that it hurt and we stood in a shop doorway for ten minutes watching people ride their bicycles getting soaked to the bone. everyone runs when it rains, like they never got used to it, even though it always rains. you'd think that i'd be sick of it but i want it to rain more. something about watching it made me feel better.
one night we sat at the back of a coffeeshop and three french boys came and sat by us. one of them was beauty personified and another kept looking at me and smiling as my sister and his friend struggled to communicate. his english was worse than our french, times ten. in the end they went looking for mushrooms and we just kept on smoking. after the weekend i forgot what oxygen tasted like, so i smoked all last week, too.
the boys came over. matthew made a compilation cd that blew me away and i made them watch the wall while i fell asleep by the fire. i woke up in my own bed with axl rose hair and smelling of smoke and orange juice. and so the week continued.
the weed ran out by saturday, and i smoked my last joint poignantly before falling asleep laughing at a joke i can't remember. today sean paid me a compliment that meant more to me than he realises, and last night rhys dreamed of me.
next week i'm going to see kieran so he can take photos of me like this:
i think chocolate hobnobs and tea are a given.
postscripts for thursday:
- thank you for protecting me. i know that deepdown it feels like a burden, but you go on doing it anyway, without me even asking.
- i wonder if the poster i bought today is the same as yours.
- i feel like we hit a bump in the road somewhere, but part of me feels that we're at a peak again. the same goes for you.
- speaking of you, you're probably reading this wishing i'd stop being so cryptic, but i remember when you called me beautiful for not putting on an impression and i realise that being cryptic is just something i can't help doing when i'm scared.
- my phone keeps buzzing across the room and i know it's probably you texting me. i wish you'd decide what you wanted because i'm sick of playing cat & mouse.
- we've never met nor spoken but i wish i was as beautiful as you.
- today he called that moment awkward, but i didn't think it was. something about it seemed natural, and that made me the saddest i've been all week.
- your boots are stunning.
- goodnight x