(no subject)
i'm sick of trying to define my life, my day, her, myself, everything. im tired of never being able to find the words, especially for her -- she just doesn't fit into words, if i tried there'd still be a corner of her, a angle, a element sticking out. it's exhausting and fustrating but exhilerating to know my life is being like this at the moment, that she is like that, that my day cannot fit words. so i will simply tell you & try and get whats in my head out.
i had the cheapest, hungriest, more naturally beautiful day today. emily came over this morning, we talked and i decided i wanted to run away for the day -- fuck school work. so we cleaned my room so mum wouldn't be able to stop me, got ready as fast as we could, ignored the parents complaints and ran. we caught the bus into the foreshore and walked kilometre by kilometre, up past the lighthouse, back by the sand, into the park where i disolved into the freshest, greenest grass i've ever seen, at some clovers and spat them out, walked to darby street and turned our backs on the sweet smelling cafes and looked at clothes we couldn't afford. a uneventful and magical bus trip home i knew what i wanted - those hot chips id been fantasising about all day, so grabbed the dogs and made out for even more walking. i nearly cried that i didn't have my camera but on the way to the shop i understood why people believed in god so strongly, how could the sky look so magestic, how could the cuttered weightless clouds which send spheres of gold into our eyes not be made by something bigger. i felt small looking at it and so fucking lucky to be alive.
i ate half of the chips i bought, throwing the rest to my already overweight dogs and ran home because i could. i felt so fucking alive today.
i had the cheapest, hungriest, more naturally beautiful day today. emily came over this morning, we talked and i decided i wanted to run away for the day -- fuck school work. so we cleaned my room so mum wouldn't be able to stop me, got ready as fast as we could, ignored the parents complaints and ran. we caught the bus into the foreshore and walked kilometre by kilometre, up past the lighthouse, back by the sand, into the park where i disolved into the freshest, greenest grass i've ever seen, at some clovers and spat them out, walked to darby street and turned our backs on the sweet smelling cafes and looked at clothes we couldn't afford. a uneventful and magical bus trip home i knew what i wanted - those hot chips id been fantasising about all day, so grabbed the dogs and made out for even more walking. i nearly cried that i didn't have my camera but on the way to the shop i understood why people believed in god so strongly, how could the sky look so magestic, how could the cuttered weightless clouds which send spheres of gold into our eyes not be made by something bigger. i felt small looking at it and so fucking lucky to be alive.
i ate half of the chips i bought, throwing the rest to my already overweight dogs and ran home because i could. i felt so fucking alive today.