So i am sitting at work at 'The Argyle', answering phones and browsing the international communication highway. It's 10am and i have already been up for four hours. Infront of me i have a panna chocolate, a soy mocha and a selection of german chocolates (one of the perks of working in a german establishment, Yay Feebies!!!) So needless to say the ( Read more... )

                  
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Sitting procrastinating reading livejournals.

Onbecommingaman and Young Poisoner are the best live-journalists i have ever read.

I recommended you visit them in the near and unpleasently sticky future.

Two examz to go.

Two days until my life begins.

I can already feel the sun on my transperent skull...

My father died 18 days ago, seeing it in front of me i realise it seems like so much longer ( Read more... )

My father passed away yesturday.

I don't really feel anything terribly bad anymore.

I am sad that he is not here but i understand and i have mourned for so long previously.

I write this in the hope of it somehow seeming to be real.

"We say that the hour of death cannot be forecast, but when we say this we imagine that hour as placed in an obscure and distant future. It never occurs to us that it has any connection with the day already begun or that death could arrive this same afternoon, this afternoon which is so certain and which has every hour filled in advance."-

As a person i need to work on becoming more accepting of myself ( Read more... )

...And that was the last bit of warmth i will ever feel ( Read more... )

Sometimes i don't even know who i am ( Read more... )

Hipparchia: Her works, now lost belong to the cynical tradition.

She broke away from her comfortable social position to marry Crates, despite her wealthy parents' - and his own- attempts to dissuade her.

They lived frugally and despised convention, including normal standards of modesty, on the principle that nothing natural is shameful.