i have a lot..
Current mood: (small compared to..)

of answers, questions and time on my hands. obviously.

[my name is]: Kirsty Margaret Gelder Smith

[in the morning i am]: usually awake before everyone else. 

[all i need is]: a good hug of peace

[love is]: a string pulling you towards everything

[i'm afraid of]: small spaces, holes in food, bad news.

[i dream about]: resolutions, harry potter, teeth, long journeys and pregnancy.

-W I T H .T H E. O P P O S I T E. S E X-

[what do you notice first?]: hair, eyes and other clues.

[last person u slow danced with]: um adam briefly in the bay

[last person you were involved with]: freddie

-W H O-

[makes you laugh the most?]: adam and laura

[makes you smile]: my mum

[do you have a crush on?]: fred

[has a crush on you?]: um

[easiest to talk to]: roxy

-H A V E .Y O U .E V E R-

[fallen for your best friend]: yes. a little bit.

[Seriously contemplated suicide]: no

-W H O .W A S .T H E .L A S T. P E R S O N-

[you talked to on the phone]: nearly nat

[hugged]: freddie

[you instant messaged]: helen

[you laughed with]: gilly and freddie

-D O .Y O U / / A R E .Y O U-

[could you live without the computer?]: hmm.. I suppose I could get used to it.  

[what's your favourite food?]: thai panang curry. things with nuts in. or sushi.

[whats ur favourite fruit?]: coconut

[what hurts the most physical pain or emotional pain?]: emotional I suppose. Because it is more difficult to place. Harder to control.

[trust others way too easily?]: no

-N U M B E R-

[of times i have had my heart broken?]: 2

[of hearts i have broken?]: 1 maybe

[of boys i have kissed]: um

[of girls i have kissed?]: 2

[of continents i have lived in?]: 2 (im sure some of my travel counts)

[of drugs taken illegally?]: 1

[of good friends?]: 5 I think. I should call them more really.

[of cd's that I own?]: not nearly enough

[of scars on my body?]: a couple. None to boast about.

[of things in my past that i regret?]:  a million things I didn't do and 1 that I did (brooklands)

-O.T.H.E.R. T.H.I.N.G.S.-

[i know]: nothing for certain. everything is vague and with feeling. Which doesn't prove very helpful in pub quizes.

[i want]: a cat. Here, now. Very very much

[i have]: doubts about my ability to do anything particularly well.

[i wish]: I had never told anyone about my horrible guinea-pig story.

[i hate]: job-hunting

[i miss]: people just because I can imagine them leaving.

[i fear]: depression

[i search]: for reasons to spend money I don't have.

[i regret]: not eating very well recently.

[i love]: wide open spaces, skies, fields, arms

[i ache]: because I believe in things I don't have the capacity to imagine.

[i care]: and worry about people I don't particularly like.

[i always]: write better when I'm having a crisis.

[i dance]: because the music makes me dance.

[i cry]: by myself.

[i bleed]: and I don't enjoy it.

[i do not always]: wish I was somewhere else.

[i write]: because there is something in me needing to get out.

[i win]: raffles, sometimes.

[i confuse]: people asking for directions. I can't tell left from right.

[i listen]: to my favourite songs over and over again until they are ruined in familiarity.

[i can usually be found]: drawing. On anything.

[i need]: a job.

[have you ever played a game that required removal of clothing]: yes

[favourite place to be kissed?]: neck and ear

[have you ever been caught "doing something"]: yep

-ARE.YOU.A..

[wuss]: in certain situations

[druggie]: nope

[gang member]: pfff.. I have my own gang.

[daydreamer]: more day-doodler

[alcoholic]: no. really.

[freak]: a bit on the strange side maybe

[brat]: no

[sarcastic]: im far too subtle about it.

[goody-goody]: ah when I am good maybe. But I am bad. Bad kirsty.

[angel]: so laura says

[devil]: not as such but

[friend]: I try my best

[shy]: it comes on sometimes like waves. Makes everything really difficult.

[talkative]: I have my moments I suppose.

[adventurous]: I think yes

[joker]: I lean that way, I aid them along

[pimp/playa]: um no

[sporty]: not really. I get scared. I do try though

[intelligent]: ah maybe if I worked harder

-Self-Analysis.You.Probabl
y.Don't.Want.To.Do-

[your best feature (physical)]: eyes

[your best feature (personality)]: creativity

[your biggest flaw (personality)]: I am full of indecision

[most annoying thing you do]: I do kind things for other people and then complain a lot when they don't seem to notice or say thank you.

[biggest mistake you've made this far]: brooklands I think.

[describe your personality in one word]: hopeful

[the physical feature for which you are most often complimented]: breasts

[person you regret sleeping with]: urm there are two

[you feel most attractive when]: i'm clean and sparkly and feel good inside. Like after a bath.

[height]: 5"2

[distinguishing marks]: bumpy nose

[allergies]: quorn :-(

[lucky number]: 3! Its magic

[a smell that makes you smile]: sun on grass, sea, certain pub smells, certain boys.

merci xc

11:31 AM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

none of that
Current mood: like a lick

have a nice slice of my paranoid pretentious.. (i was assigned this - i have no guilt) all condensed into a bundle. all thought and no processes. hmph.

There is a confusion, like a spelling mistake, in my life at the moment and it probably has a lot to do with men and it probably has a lot to do with dreams. Not the kind of dreams you read about, with feathers and the smoky in-out of river banks in summertime. These dreams are plant-like and they grow from tiny seeds until eventually they consume you in a massive tree of expectant paranoia, with no room to breathe or see or concentrate as the branches curve around you and eventually suck all the life out of your body, leaving just a hollow space covered by a dream - a hope that someday it will become real, a sort of Pinocchio fantasy. You are suddenly the wooden doll, you are suddenly wrecked and broken by that single thought, that suggestion that everything would be ok. Or like the glimmer of a future you saw in that split second through which, for one reason or another, everything made sense.

Nothing makes sense today. The sense that is there is dragging me along behind it like an old donkey hauling a broken wooden cart.

It all started with avoiding eye contact. I was avoiding the limelight and imagining eating fish and chips with you by the sea in the same wind and rain that made our first meeting. I remember now that the weather was bad on our last meeting as well. And any sun that we saw, seeping through the cracks in the window of your studio. A dusty old basement in a dusty old town with dusty sheets for me to sit still for hours, listening to the scrape of brush on canvas. Well, where is it now?

The beginning and end add together making the happy just one whole gold lump fitted between the dark clouds. You have to dig deep some days. You have to crack right into the root of how you're feeling and drag it out bit by bit till you find the core. And that core can never truly represent what you mean, what is said and how the other person felt. There are so many contrasting lines and shapes, so many plates of glass that make our lives into one huge tormenting maze of mirrors. I can't seem to tell the difference between one reflection and the next. I contemplate and contemplate to the point of breaking, finding myself in no higher state of awareness – I am sitting, instead, in the courner of an assembly hall singing about Noah and the animals going into the ark two by two. In mass there will always be a baby crying, an old lady coughing and a family that leaves before the ending hymn. But that is not what mass means to me.  Life should not be seen through its common occurrences - the lucky people in this world are those who see everything as amazing and profound. Putting the kettle on is a heavenly experience, washing the dishes is like a re-enactment of the Odyssey and hanging your painting of me on my wall feels like the parting of the red sea. It is too heavy a feeling.

That painting brings me too close to you, like being too close to the sun and I worry that I will melt into a terrible nervous pool. The fear that I will never see you again is matched with the fear that I will see you now or tomorrow or on the street, when I least expect it. It is a dieing feeling, a terrible pumping death, full of heart and I am far too conscious of the beating sound. I imagine this is what fainting feels like, being wrenched out of the real world and into some other dimension of awful extremes. I have suspended myself in the partition between knowing and not knowing and I would happily fall face first into the pavement than face my facts.

Happiness is all about edges I think. You want a chasm to stand near and lord over. You want a wave to balance on, right to the beach. You want wheels and speed and you can never be more alive than on that edge, a hairs breadth away from death. I like it here on the brink of love and dejection. The frustration refines and sweetens and until I find someway of capturing its essence, the flashing lights of happiness that my memory allows, I will continue trudging forward deeper into the muddy despair, the inevitable. Like in the painting, I am averting my eyes.

will ammend soonish. merci xcxcxcxc

Currently listening : Return to Cookie Mountain By TV on the Radio Release date: 08 August, 2006

7:15 PM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

you and me baby
Current mood: she brings peace to me

This week I am:

- Saying 'yes' to sex or sax and using biological words in different contexts, polarised and pregnant and deep dark cellular meiosis. Saying 'yes' to mixing it up – words and sounds and general opposites standing side-by-side in all their contrasting bright. Saying 'yes' to any potential action with its equal and opposite potential re-action (and the spaces they leave where they could have happened). 'yes' to touching and tasting everything. To kissing and dancing and meaning.

- Saying 'no' to having sudden crippling bouts of realisation about the futility of life in dodgy night clubs after drinking too much wine. 'No' to name dropping excitement and people changing the subject just as you find something interesting to say.

 I want to attack my last blog with a knowing nod in the optimistic directions. There was something in a book that lead me in the right direction.

Things happen here so other things can happen somewhere else. There is somewhere it does happen. There is some time, a right time, where everything fits into place. It is logic like string that plaits together. like a structure plugging in. like the in/out shapes of enzymes and dna bases.

"It was sad music. But it waved the sadness like a battle flag. It said that the universe had done all it could but you were still alive."

Another list (the happy list):

The noises made by animal collective

My new skirt

Iris Murdoch

cftpa making a lot of buzzing sounds as well as pretty little ones.

The thought of knitting

Clean hair

Evacuation (cbbc)

Ah solid air xc

5:01 PM - 2 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment

words like worms
Current mood: funny that

today i am:

saying "no" to capital letters and crying and death and people that don't tip.

Saying "yes" to repeating words on purpose and dirty touching bases and New Zealand and going far, far away.

here is the slice of sad that i have been harbouring up for a couple of days.. it grew from excessive doctor who-watching like mould and has been slowly maturing. this is sad cheese.

 Somewhere, in some other world or plane of existence, this didnt happen. They never met, they never got married. They died alone and far away. 

well.. i did say it was just a slice.

Currently listening : Feels By Animal Collective Release date: 18 October, 2005

11:28 PM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

tied up and tired
Current mood: rolling eyes

Today (yesterday):

It is a trouble, I think, to take what it is you want and turn it into something you need. I am bullshitting here obviously. I like how the words make themselves into sentences without me meaning them is this lying? maybe I should get a grip of what I want to say and think it before I begin tracing little lines back and forth from letter to letter on my keypad. Who knows what will escape, and really, who cares? As it is just glances at my mind-to-finger frequency then surely I cannot be deemed responsible for what comes out. True or not true, spelt or miss-spelt, "that is not a sentence"

I like it when I listen to a song and I cant think in straight lines because every lyric seems to flicker off a new train of thought. Is it luck.. or fate maybe? because it is the only time I like to use that word. fate, in the same sense that two balls fall through a maze of tunnels and land in the same hole, the way they can sometimes mix that note with that word.. alarm bells go off and oh you get that stomach flipping feeling, that flash of colour in a grey day. I am spouting clichés, but that is what it makes you do too.  it is uncontrolled reverence and remembrance and jumpy half-baked ambition - because it always makes me want to do something, talk to someone or at least write something down as I search for a connection. Some music is just a background noise I admit it, but only on certain days, you get the right song like a spell and it will lift you off into some sound heaven or hell in one sudden touch. It happens all the time, by accident. It happens like smells, when you walk past the right shop at the right time. whoever said "at least when music hits you feel no pain" was entirely wrong. or numb. or had never heard the right sound. one day they will be hit suddenly driving down the right roads. Rare and speechless and excruciating. 

The sky opened wide and added about a million other thoughts to my already piling mind. specific scenes suck me out there with a certain desperate need to be appreciated, and then there i am clinging on to my appreciation of it with an air of desperation, mimicking with my praise. I need to show I care about these things - the sun rising and setting, movements of clouds and dogs and families. life is like a train passing through a million picturesque landscapes. they are simple and yet.. fascinating enough to have me full of urges to wave and point.  the over-looked and thoughtless actions of people and sky and sea.. there is some huge power in it created soley by the fact that it would be like that even if you never looked.. You bear no significance. It screams at me that it does not need me to look at it, but it will never ever look exactly like this again.. "This moment will never ever happen again and if you ignore it now, well, youve missed out.." 

And then ask, is looking enough?

I think it has to be. Today in my cynical space, to capture anything seems futile. You can try of course, and sometimes you can create amazing astronomical things by just a flicker of light between the trees, but it is never pure and mirrored to the actual sight. That is not such a bad thing, but at the same time it is also impossibly sad. As humans it is impossible for us to experience the same feeling and therefore highly unlikely that even if we were watching the same sky at the same time.. the connection, the sharing of that is merely a brief string tying together two separate experiences.

And sometimes that string is enough.

A list (the list):

Glances.

Well positioned bubbles.

Clean-smelling hair.

Hats being tipped.

The word crush

Acceptance (of truth, of lies, of endings and beginnings)

Connections.

Accidental alliteration.

Opposites.  

6:01 PM - 1 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

scotland sshmotland
Current mood: open eyes

 ah well since i am having no scotland (and scotland is having none of me) i will write to the internet world. the quiz-format of this blog indicates how half-hearted i am - not even ironically, as i would have hoped - and all before the paint fumes set in tmw.. [maybe i should've got that bus].. i will post myself off into the strange empty web-space and watch it fly into the sunset, possibly crashing into a few computer engineered electric pylons on the way., welcome to my internet back garden (like a normal garden but with more html and less gnomes) named that because it is where i have decided to air my highly important thoughts to dry. i should add something like "oh i hope it doesn't rain" but that is very lame and cheap and would completely distract from the tone of the thing [the tone is sombre hilarity btw]

i am too tired to form all my sentences into the shapes of proper meaning. this is only a sentence at a glance, so you should read it with one eye closed and the other squinting at an angle to the screen [type-magic i think] it won't help give the text any meaning but it does sound like a fun activity to do on a weekday night at 11pm when every other person in your house has gone to bed (even the cat).

 i will go to scotland at some point and eat all thier chocolate cake and re-live the happy times of camping and poverty.

 boo

 here are my various opinions all sectioned out mindlessly by some american quiz-master idiot.

--------------LAST PERSON WHO--------------
x. Slept in your bed: Jim. Ok he was under the bed. and hes a cat. but it still counts right?
x. Saw you cry: a friendly sparrow
x. Made you cry: it was a song.
x. You shared a drink with: Johnny boy, Ark and Sam at the bar of malden (we had water with all the trimmings.. a very classy work-force)
x. You went to the movies: danny and a bunch of pirates
x. You went to the mall with: um sister (roxeh) and we saw a man with an amazing moustache that made us smile.
x. Yelled at you: dad. for something the tv did.
x. Sent you an email: joe. he is very tall and cheeky.

-----------------HAVE YOU EVER---------------
x. Liked someone who hadn't like you? every other day. its like being in a glorious sinking ship.
x. Said "I Love You" and meant it? always just into the air.  
x. Gotten in a fight with your pet: in bad dreams. I had an evil rabbit once.
x. Been to California: yes
x. Been to Hawaii: na
x. Been to Mexico: nna
x. Been to China: na
x. Been to Canada: na
x. Danced naked: in the shower
x. Dreamed something really crazy and then it happened the next day?: well the crazy bits of my dreams could never ever happen in real life. by definition even.

--------EXTRA BIT BEFORE THE OTHER ONE---------------------

x. Do you have a crush on someone: not for a long time.
x. What book are you reading now: back on the discworld like a proper geek. Soul music.  
x. Worst feeling in the world: indifference. from either side it is just a big blank sucking hole.
x. Future son's name: Bernard
x. Do you sleep with a stuffed dead animal: not on purpose (i am imagining horrific gangster scenarios)
x. What's under your bed: not much I can see beyond a wall of shoes.
x. Favorite sport to watch: aussie rules football, because I understood it at one point.
x. Siblings: 2 and 1/2
x. Location: New Malden
x. College plans: read
x. boyfriend/Girlfriend: um

------------------------EXTRA STUFF----------------------
x. Do you do drugs: I am currently overdosed on lemsip.
x. Do you drink: a healthy amount. I think.  
x. What are you most scared of: getting stuck.  
x. Where do you want to get married: im more picky about the priests.
x. Who do you really hate: aisleyne from big brother.
x. Been in Love: tied to it but not inside the actual building
x. Do you drive: na
x. Do you have a job: oui
x. Do you like being around people: yes but waitressing kills this. they all turn into complete cunts and my faith in them is destroyed along with my feet (ahem. ok its not that bad. really)   

----------------------------STUFF---------------------
x. Have you ever cried over something someone of the opposite sex did: oh yes.
x. Do you have a "type" of person you always go for? not really. I like the talk.
x. Want someone you don't have right now: only imaginary someones.
x. Are you lonely right now: yeh. Everyone seems to be in Edinburgh or Waitrose.
x. Song thats sticks in your head a lot: lilly allen
x. Do you want to get married: yes. with lots of confetti and dancing.
x. Do you want kids: yes, I guess. as scary as it all is.  

----------------FAVOURITE---------------------
x. Room in house: bathroom. with the.. er.. bath.
x. music: slow blues if I had to choose (and even then that is mainly there because it rhymes) I am instrument and not genre orientated.
x. Band: today I look into my heart and "the blow" is written there.  
x. Color: red
x. Perfume or cologne?: gloria
x. Month: april
x. Stone: it is amazingly smooth and amazingly green. And now, sadly, amazingly lost.

--------------IN THE LAST WEEK, HAVE YOU---------------
x. Cried: yes. to the evening sky (poetic licence)
x. Bought something: several drinks and two black shoes.  
x. Gotten sick: a bit of a cold but I seem to have battled it away. Scarves are the answer. scarves and baths but not at the same time.
x. Sang: foolishly put the scene aesthetic song beauty in the breakdown (or something like that anyway.. emo as hell) on a mix cd and sing along to it while walking the streets. not very harmonious from the outside Im sure.
x. Wanted to tell someone you loved them: no. well. no one real.
x. Met someone new: yes
x. Missed someone: aber in a general. Ok mainly the welsh, but just just just  because.
x. Hugged someone: yes
x. Kissed someone: no!

-------------- I N F O R M A T I O N ------------
Name: Kirsty
Status: single.
Sex: female
Birthday: 3^rd July 1986
Sign: cancer

----------- F A S H I O N | S T U F F --------------
Where is your favourite place to shop for clothes? Shoreditch. But mainly because I never make it up there.. it is held high in my vague memory.   
Favourite designer?: none that float to the top.
What is your sexiest outfit?: this quiz is just reminding me that I need more shoes.
What is your most comfortable outfit?: my most comfortable skirt is dead.
What do you usually wear?: this week it is jeans and a scarf. Everything else seems to be optional.

--------------------------- F A V O R I T E S -----------------
Foods: suuuushi
Animals: tigers
Did you cut out any questions: I diverted maybe.

---------------- H A V E | Y O U | E V E R -------------
Given anyone a bath: yes! he is a teenager now and doesnt like me mentioning it.
Smoked?: yes
Made yourself throw up?: no
Ever been in love?: i guess not. i have lived through a crush and touched on it maybe.
Made yourself cry to get out of trouble?: ha, possibly. Its just down to instinct.
Cried when someone died? yes
Fallen for your best friend?: yes
Done something you regret?: once I was too nervous to ask for a job in this hostel in new Zealand (during one of my moneyless moments) passed off free food, horse riding, white water rafting on that LOTR-famous river/hillside. Instead I carried on to Wellington (windy city) and spent far far too long in Christ church cleaning anonymous pubic hair from hostel toilets. I am a fool. I have to live with that. *sigh*

--------------- A R E | Y O U ---------------------
Understanding: eventually
Open-minded: yes
Arrogant: generally no
Insecure: yah
Random: no. very specifically no.
Hungry: ah no, just had tea
Smart: mind and body? I think myself away from smart and I dress like I dont care (I do care)
Organized: very no.
Healthy: Im currently working on my will-power
Shy: yah. less now, though that isnt saying much.
Difficult: I have my days.
Bored easily: no
Obsessed: oh yes. I think I hint that into any of the love questions. Is there that much of a difference?
Angry: I can never pin it down unless its in full force and blowing up small villages.
Sad: in both senses. I have it there all the time to complicate things.
Happy: yep
Hyper: occasionally
Trusting: not enough when it counts.

------------------ --- W H I C H | I S | B E T T E R ---------------
Coke or Pepsi: pepsi max like
Flowers or candy: flowers
Tall or short: everyone is taller than me. I like it.

--------------- W H O ---------------
Makes you laugh the most: mr Kitson is all in my head.
Makes you smile: gilly from hollyoaks

-------------- D O | Y O U | E V E R -----------------
Sit on the internet all night waiting for that someone special to IM you?: maybe
Wish you were a member of the opposite sex?: no
Wish you were younger: i still feel about 14. maybe just for the travel fare.

----------------- N U M B E R --------------
Of times I have had my heart broken: 3ish but none that would realise it.
Of CD's I own: not enough even of the electric kind.
Of scars on my body: gosh. Nothing worse than my bcg I think.. which is quite pathetic.

ta xc

11:03 PM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

some space
Current mood: old lady

this is not the story i meant it to be.. it all sprouted from the first sentence.. the murdering just conviniently popped up too.

i just wish i could squeeze "dennis loomed" in there somewhere.

it is all about looming. i think. not just the story.. life in general. life looms

what can i say.. i'm short.. maybe i have looming issues.

here here have it.

onion

Anna cried for him one Sunday; because the song they sang was one she'd heard him sing before. He hummed and mumbled when he couldnt remember the words. The tune flickered and mixed with images of her own flailing arms as she held him down.

The mornings were full of whispers or whistles, depending on the weather. Dennis ate dry toast for breakfast, cursing the milkman and praising the post when the bills were left under the porch mat.

"Why would he need things to be hidden like this?" Anna just didnt understand "Bills are bills, under the mat or not they need to be paid!"

But Dennis couldnt handle them out in the open. Those milk bottles lined up in rows, those clear loud bells coming from the village church. He liked everything muffled and covered by a few layers of cloth.

He would have been happy, Anna thought, buried alive with her shouting down at him "Dinner time, Dennis" She pictured herself pushing roast beef and potatoes through a little hole in the ground on Sunday afternoon. Him shouting thanks through another hole designed for air and conversation.

At first she believed that she shared his views on life. The covering or buffering of any sharp naked truth seemed reasonable in a world that was changing around her so quickly, like an inflation that increased violence on TV and teenage pregnancy along with the price of milk.

But she soon realised that it was the distance he created that she enjoyed, the huge gap in the bed, the living room, the garden, that separated them from each other. Suddenly she found it comforting rather than frustrating. Anna loved Dennis, and had done since they'd met 40 years ago, but she couldnt stand to be near him, couldnt stand to touch him or share his space.

And Dennis' space took over everything. The more she looked for it, the more prominent his face sang out from every object in their house. His smell embodied the telephone, the kitchen sink and wound around the banister like a snake.

The spaces he left for himself seemed even more suffocating than his actual presence. When he was out at work, his chair oozed emptiness until it dripped Dennis-shaped footprints over the carpet in a trail towards the door. His trousers haunted the hallway at night where they hung out to dry for the next day. Anna spent all morning wondering how his image had worn and worn its way into the walls, layered up like playground chalk. She dragged herself up and down the stairs with Dennis bald patch clinging to her ankles like a child having a tantrum.

She looked in the mirror and saw only his lips. Their place on her was carved and had been made permanent through the years of contact. Anna would stand there for hours just staring at the reflection, her face under his, mixed together and contorted. Then she would hoover the bedroom floor and wash the dishes.

One Tuesday, while Dennis was at the factory, Anna stopped cleaning. There just didnt seem to be any point, his fingerprints peppered the surface of every table, every shelf or windowsill, whether he had touched them recently or not. A wedding present, two porcelain figures frozen walking arm in arm, that hadnt been moved for ten years became suddenly overcome with hand prints. Dennis' aura shone from everything like a fluorescent glow. Yellow, unflattering and blindingly bright in some corners. Anna gave up trying to chase it away, finding it easier to just avert her eyes and ignore it, staring at the floor.

There was a pillow on the sofa that exuded the ghost of Dennis round beer belly and the cat slept on it, unknowingly, in the afternoon. Anna tried to shoo it away but it gave her such a reproachful look, mimicking Dennis flashing eyes so perfectly, that she had to leave the room.

She stopped scrubbing the walls, the carpet in the spare room and even the television set began to accumulate dust as the millions of prints and smudges fixed like tattoos on their surfaces. Effigies of Dennis' elbows consumed the entire sofa and most of the dining room chairs.

Anna stopped looking in the mirror.

Dennis came and went. He ate his dinner and watched the TV.

Anna watched him as he walked around the house, layers falling behind him like snail-trails. Every footstep turning the carpet a dull grey on impact. Sheets of it fell as he reached to change the channel to bbc2, avoiding the news, avoiding Youve been framed he watched Inspector Morse and shouted wrong accusations at the screen.

Anna saw the layers fall over herself again and again, once when he touched he hand by accident as she handed him his dinner plate. There was no escaping it.

She lay in bed trying to remember where she was, who she was, but managed only to find even more deeply set layers that led her to conclude that she, herself, was a layer of Dennis creation. Piled and piled upon like bricks until her shape had emerged.

What little tiny thing had she been before she had met him? Small and concentrated like the very last piece of a Russian doll. The littlest girl, the one that could not be split in two.

Anna often fantasised about digging deep inside herself to find that littlest doll, that truth that Dennis seemed all too adamant to hide. But she soon found that it was far more complicated than just looking down and extracting herself. She could no longer tell where she ended and the layers begun. In that position you can't be sure that what you're tearing apart isnt the last layer, and when you break through, you could be destroying your centre piece, just ending up with blood and bones and broken skin.

There is nothing as disheartening as opening the last layer and finding a space, an emptiness to far gone to salvage, and that was Anna's fear. Whatever was underneath the layers had been hidden for such a long time, by now it was probably shrivelled and dead. She couldnt hear it anymore. She hadnt been able to sense it for a long time.

The bills piled up under the front mat, pushing it up on one side as they fought for space under the matted brown surface printed 'WELCOME' in black letters.

Anna had stopped collecting them.

She sat in the living room all day with the TV on and the sound down. She made a plan. It would be a bid for freedom in the fairytale sense, based on the logic that; to remove the source would essentially remove the problem.

It happened at about 3am. Anna and Dennis were in bed, him snoring and her staring blankly at the ceiling. An alarm went off signalled by the dull thud of a pillow contacting hard with Dennis head.

He struggled, but Anna held strong, glad that she could not see his face under her hands. Under the pillow. Under the layers he was so reliant on.

cheers my dears.

and deers

maybe

xc 

5:20 PM - 2 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

suffering from summer
Current mood: holy

I am in the process of revelation and it tastes green and amazing.

There is God if there is anything.

Life is one huge mouthful of interlocking melodies, forever circling and dancing over his fingertips.

Every now and then I take myself apart and try to fill in the gaps. I am writing my life over a million other lives, hopefully in a different coloured crayon, hopefully in a bright sun-reflecting line right through their skies.
Or at least I can construct some kind of Buddhist and Catholic crossbred intelligence. Believing in something real and green and huge in its collectiveness.

I have determined how my heaven would work and it turns out to be this massive circle of life and colour, energy even (with the risk of sounding pretentious). I'm not about Karma. I'm not preaching fate issues and rules - there is God if there is anything. Anything good anyway.

Even in a joke. An apathetic looser. A random collection of genes and dreams.
It holds an ant, a brain cell, the last ligament
and my hand
always.

I am one with the pollen and one day I will ride clouds and be breathed in by the ancestor of the girl next door.

I like this mood but it makes me write worried how hollow I sound. I am yet to turn into that preacher, talking of the good things while all the time placing walled rules to keep other people out. I am only brief sounds and flashing lights.

Oh to be a beat.

9:18 PM - 1 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

passion poulet
Current mood: casino

i have been distracted to an ultimate degree. firstly by hair in my eyes. secondly, and far more completely, by this carol anne duffy poem.

i hand it to you on a plate and hope that, whether you read it or not, it will solidify here and stop tormenting me with inspiration so far away from any of the revision i am actually meant to be doing.  

Prayer

Some days, although we cannot pray, a prayer
utters itself. So a woman will lift
her head from the sieve of her hands and stare
at the minims sung by a tree, a sudden gift.

Some nights, although we are faithless, the truth
enters our hearts, that small familiar pain;
then a man will stand stock-still, hearing his youth
in the distant Latin chanting of a train.

Pray for us now. Grade 1 piano scales
console the lodger looking out across
a Midlands town. Then dusk, and someone calls
a child's name as though they named their loss.

Darkness outside. Inside the radio's prayer -
Rockall. Malin. Dogger. Finisterre

merci ma jolie mutton blanc xc

11:22 AM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

biscuit time
Current mood: hair brushed and parted

typical me typical me. he sings a cheeky kind of chord to say.. happy easter happy eater

"so stay on my arm you little charmer" are my words of the year, stolen obviously.

spent large amounts of last week singing smith's albums from start to finish and drinking tea. i did lots of other things as well but i am trying to be vague.

fallen in love with about five people but only atempted to sing 5ive song once. when the lights were out. what are the odds eh?

jonny didnt come this year. jonny and the bomb. jonny is a bomb singing jeff buckley in the smoking room trying to serenade young girls, avoiding hallelujah's... untill easter actuallly arrives that is,  and we all sing it loud waving glow sticks like some retarded christian-camp rave.

and i guess it was, but it felt more special at the time. and hugs meant everything, and a certain squeeze of your hand said about a million supportive cliched phrases.. are prayers chliches?? it takes a week of blisters and rather good beer to even question these things i supose.. now i will spend the rest of the year wondering how to convince other people to do this.. or at least find a way to explain it that doesnt envolve me gushing and jumping with love and excitment about gin-induced holy miles.  

"number of people injured during the sign of peace.. one married couple.." just goes to show that parents are getting old, but ive never seen them younger than last week. two re-broken ribs from a rather vigorous hug and a broken toe trying to negotiate through a maze of pews. oh dear.

"there is a light and it never goes out" regardless of any 5ive misconceptions, it is true. i will wave my glowy thing till the end of the song, and so on and etc. till next year, till i find my lost mp3 player at least..

back onto this whole different leg. this new group of days. this new year. happily.

when before i was thinking 'how is it that i am here again and waiting for one of my favourite weeks of the year to start? still in my room. still hanging off the edge of a time that i can't imagine being on the other side of.' i sit here on the other side of that line, with sore feet and a love for anyone who will hold my hand and declare some kind of revelation. see differently and nod thier head towards the nice things that can always be found among the dark, sad, broken.

"you are my sweetest downfall"

i loved you first. before it made me feel better. before everyone started to represent a map of live and love, reaching out to marriage and children and pets and a higher understanding.. hopefully.

more smiths more minutes and much much more hugs 

happy eater happy easter.

12:12 AM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment