Intro and outro.
I am not going to say anything that I haven't already said a thousand times before. There will be no ingenuity here. I do not have anymore firsts left, but it would appear that I have one more last. I kept thinking that we had not come to the climax, but it has passed by without me even realising what it was. I kept waiting for something to happen; I kept waiting for the culmination of everything that has happened in the past week, the past month, the past year, and the past decade. I kept waiting for you to realise that I am your home and I am always going to be, no matter what anyone else thinks or does to change it. Maybe you have made your decision to permanently ignore that, or maybe you have decided that the home that you have is old and worn out and you need something new. Maybe you haven't decided anything. I'm only calling things the way that I see them. Maybe you are flummoxed. Maybe you just like to waffle at questions because you don't want anyone to get hurt. Maybe I'm just making things up.
I think that there probably comes a time in everyone's life when they begin to realise that they are not the person that they used to be. Everything changes, right? I am not sure if this happens at particular ages or points where there is nothing left to do but change, but either way, it calls for a re-introduction.
I am Sadie Liza Frost. I will be thirty-eight years old on the nineteenth of June. I smoke too much despite the fact that I had a collapsed lung when I was four and the doctor said that I was as good as marking days off my life expectancy with every drag I take. I drink too much. I still hate my father even though I buried him two years ago. I have ten brothers and sisters. When I was young, I wore striped tights and I wanted to be a punk rocker. Just ask my Gavin. I have made a career out of my nudity and my ability to fake an orgasm on camera. I like to sing Joy Division in the shower. Last year around this time, I was in the hospital for blood poisoning from a spider bite. Before that, I was having a baby and I was in and out of rehab for my post-partem depression. This year, it was a stomach virus. If this sets some sort of premise for the coming years, I am terrified to see what happens next year. I recently announced to the press that I am on anxiety medication. There is some sort of cycle that I am trapped in. I have my highs and I have my lows. This is a low.
Kate Moss is the best friend that a person could ever have. If I could communicate into words how much I love this woman, I would, but I don't think it is possible to show enough gratitude. She is my best, she is my mother, she is my sister, she is a fucking reflection of me, and all wrapped up in one. She protects me, she offers me her shoulder, she tells me when I'm wrong, she tells me when I'm right, she supports me, and she loves me unconditionally. She and I share fantasies about what we will be like when we are in our eighties. She will still be wearing high heels and I will still be hitting on Brian Littrell and flashing people at her birthday parties. She knows me like the back of my hand. She knows more about me than I ever will. When I laugh, she laughs. When I cry, she cries. I love her. That's insufficient, but I can't say anything else here, because she knows everything else I could say. I want to make a list of the rest of everyone that matters to me, but they all know who they are.
I have four of the most beautiful children on the planet. I have my sweet Finlay Munro, my darling Rafferty, my princess Iris, and my little Rudy Indiana Otis. The press has put me through the ringer. Perhaps that is part of the reason why I'm so evasive of the attention these days. I remember when I went to the rehabilitation clinic. I remember all the headlines when my daughter swallowed half a tablet of ecstasy. Jealous wife. Going crazy. Gold digger. Unfit mother. I used to care too much about what everyone said. Now? I don't need any justification from a few lines of newsprint. I would do anything for those children. I would sacrifice anything that I have for those children. The only people that I need to believe that are them and I.
I spent the first twenty-five years of my life, give or take, in love with love, and I have spent every year since in love with David Jude Law. I will probably do the same thing every single day for the rest of my life, even if I spend the rest of my days without him. People wonder why I do this to myself. People wonder while I repeatedly allow myself to become so ensnared with this one person. I say that I will change, but I know that I will never really recuperate. The second I first saw him, something happened. He smiled at me, he kissed me, he made love with me, he told me that he loved me, and I became his. I never used to buy what people said about other halves and soul mates, but to this day, I still look at him and know that he is mine. I am going to hate anyone else that he is ever with. I am never going to become used to not waking up with him beside me. I am never going to love stepping into the future without him there to hold my hand. Maybe all of that makes me crazy, but the person I am now is unafraid to admit it. I have got nothing left to say.
[Breaking for an indefinite amount of time. I am not that difficult to find elsewhere, but you know the email if you need a road map.]
I think that there probably comes a time in everyone's life when they begin to realise that they are not the person that they used to be. Everything changes, right? I am not sure if this happens at particular ages or points where there is nothing left to do but change, but either way, it calls for a re-introduction.
I am Sadie Liza Frost. I will be thirty-eight years old on the nineteenth of June. I smoke too much despite the fact that I had a collapsed lung when I was four and the doctor said that I was as good as marking days off my life expectancy with every drag I take. I drink too much. I still hate my father even though I buried him two years ago. I have ten brothers and sisters. When I was young, I wore striped tights and I wanted to be a punk rocker. Just ask my Gavin. I have made a career out of my nudity and my ability to fake an orgasm on camera. I like to sing Joy Division in the shower. Last year around this time, I was in the hospital for blood poisoning from a spider bite. Before that, I was having a baby and I was in and out of rehab for my post-partem depression. This year, it was a stomach virus. If this sets some sort of premise for the coming years, I am terrified to see what happens next year. I recently announced to the press that I am on anxiety medication. There is some sort of cycle that I am trapped in. I have my highs and I have my lows. This is a low.
Kate Moss is the best friend that a person could ever have. If I could communicate into words how much I love this woman, I would, but I don't think it is possible to show enough gratitude. She is my best, she is my mother, she is my sister, she is a fucking reflection of me, and all wrapped up in one. She protects me, she offers me her shoulder, she tells me when I'm wrong, she tells me when I'm right, she supports me, and she loves me unconditionally. She and I share fantasies about what we will be like when we are in our eighties. She will still be wearing high heels and I will still be hitting on Brian Littrell and flashing people at her birthday parties. She knows me like the back of my hand. She knows more about me than I ever will. When I laugh, she laughs. When I cry, she cries. I love her. That's insufficient, but I can't say anything else here, because she knows everything else I could say. I want to make a list of the rest of everyone that matters to me, but they all know who they are.
I have four of the most beautiful children on the planet. I have my sweet Finlay Munro, my darling Rafferty, my princess Iris, and my little Rudy Indiana Otis. The press has put me through the ringer. Perhaps that is part of the reason why I'm so evasive of the attention these days. I remember when I went to the rehabilitation clinic. I remember all the headlines when my daughter swallowed half a tablet of ecstasy. Jealous wife. Going crazy. Gold digger. Unfit mother. I used to care too much about what everyone said. Now? I don't need any justification from a few lines of newsprint. I would do anything for those children. I would sacrifice anything that I have for those children. The only people that I need to believe that are them and I.
I spent the first twenty-five years of my life, give or take, in love with love, and I have spent every year since in love with David Jude Law. I will probably do the same thing every single day for the rest of my life, even if I spend the rest of my days without him. People wonder why I do this to myself. People wonder while I repeatedly allow myself to become so ensnared with this one person. I say that I will change, but I know that I will never really recuperate. The second I first saw him, something happened. He smiled at me, he kissed me, he made love with me, he told me that he loved me, and I became his. I never used to buy what people said about other halves and soul mates, but to this day, I still look at him and know that he is mine. I am going to hate anyone else that he is ever with. I am never going to become used to not waking up with him beside me. I am never going to love stepping into the future without him there to hold my hand. Maybe all of that makes me crazy, but the person I am now is unafraid to admit it. I have got nothing left to say.
[Breaking for an indefinite amount of time. I am not that difficult to find elsewhere, but you know the email if you need a road map.]