Our intentions always last that bit too long.

"Katherine ! My great dear effervescent darling friend, i miss you. I realise i haven't replied to your last couple tweets but I WANT YOU TO KNOW that it's not because i don't still love you because I DO, but i've been having to surrepticiously and slyly scav wifi off the cafe as i walk past cos i'm too cheap even for a cafe con leche, and that unfortunately only gives me time to post a pre-written tweet and grab my email :(! But i wrote you a mega mega long postcard today :) might write you another tomoro :) also: When the thorn bush turns white that's when i'll come home. Then, or next tuesday. I love. You xxxx"

Only your best friend can write you a text that is EIGHT PAGES long. :)
loveyou.

'At the bottom of everything'

"We all fall in love, don't we? We fall in love with the smell of the ocean, and the sound of leaves fighting the wind, and the taste of an amazing green apple. I fell in love with a boy, and I'm slowly falling out. I don't mean it. It's just happening."

Sorry, if you find this, but i like your words.

Devil's playground.

"Everyone
gets
lighter
everyone
gets lighter
everyone gets
lighter
everyone gets lighter
everyone is light."

I felt your poltergeist love like Savannah heat.

when mum wears clothes that fit her, rather than pyjamas, her shoulder blades stick right out, almost like she's trying to grow a pair of wings.
and that puts it poetically. it's actually slightly horrific.
i swear people in the street must think she is a recovering anorexic or something.
its not so bad, i think she's fairly happy.
but its the beeping machines, and the times when we have four nurses in the house at one time that get me. it makes me wonder how possible it is that family life will ever be the same again.

sympathy can be smothering sometimes, once or twice i even thought my amazing results were pity grades...
but giving a shit is different.

please go away. :(

July

was an angsty month on my blog. :/

teeth marks.

And I miss you, even when you're around
I'm a black cloud,
Sending lightning to the ground
So darling please, show your teeth
Just one more dance to help me sleep
Whirl, cold water eyes
Fill the past with friendly nights
Human skin, can be hard to live in
You'll feel better in the morning.

patchwork clouds.

people keep saying, "you can do whatever you want now."
i want to do lots of things. most of all, i want to keep you.
in my pocket, or on my notice board, or stashed at the end of my inbox.
i'm fed up of feeling like "nothing you do can ever be good enough for me, just because i always want something better or more romantic. some kind of bigger-than-life love."
it's something i'm working on, i promise.

a couple of weeks ago i thought it would be cool to text you, 'i miss you like air.'
last night i had a dream that you came home.
and now i feel like part of me is missing.
i guess that's karma...

there is nothing that the road cannot heal.

Restless feet, coffee stained cafe couches, the need to abandon security for the open road, potential lovers who will stare into your eyes as though creating a masterpiece, fields and hills and cities and the sunset from a hired-car hood on a cool beach and the sunrise from a hotel window, crinkled worn sheets, warm toes, hopeful breaths from the twin pillow indent, splayed hair catching the sunspangles, the need for close knit words describing every sight sound smell, because elabourate just doesn't fit, wide-eyed wonder at the sheer diversity when moving forwards everyday, every second, stopping long enough for a few snaps, a postcard, a coffee, a brief jazz fueled encounter in a smoky afterhours basement.
Songs for the road, beating from your car window, moving in your gut.

Four weeks.

the skin of my hands is peeling, it's almost like it is preparing itself for september.
and thats not even metaphorical !

i know your eyes in the morning sun.

:(

change will come oh change will come i will never believe in anything again.

i never realised it but a simple change in your life, like usuing a different brand of toilet roll, can have a huge effect on you.
if you have gotten used to a particular way of living, when it changes, even in a tiny subtle way, it throws your well-ordered routine into turmoil.
like swapping your old fridge for a new one with a diferent kind of handle, or updating your computers to windows vista.
imagine the effect of a person who has lived with you for your entire life, clothed you, fed you, reprimanded you and supported you, who disappears from your home entirely.
imagine leaving home for the first time and supporting yourself and living alone amoung your filtered possesions that previously seemed vast and now fit into one cuboard and a chest of drawers.
i get weirded out when we stop using a particular brand of apple juice for gods sake!
september is going to be so incredibly scary and exciting at the same time.
i just can't fit it into my brain. it's like The Big Bang, or martyrdom.
i just cannot imagine what it will be like to NOT live where i have lived for the past 18 years.

sunburn lemon juice baby blues.

i wish there were less 'you's.
i wish i wasn't caught in perpetual 'summer crush' mode.
you know the kind, you fall for the bleach blonde kid with the tan, promise to write and then vaguelly remember a feeling you had back in '06, years later when you find the blurry photo album, buried under less transient memories.

i think i persuade myself that 'it's for real this time'.
and then i turn my head, catch someone elses eyes.

'How come i end up where i started?
How come i end up where i went wrong?'

comehomecomehomecomehome.

I was a quick wet boy, diving too deep for coins, all of your street light eyes wide on my plastic toys, then when the cops closed the fair, I cut my long baby hair, stole me a dog-eared map and called for you everywhere.
Have I found you, flightless bird? Jealous, weeping. Or lost you, american mouth?

just break my heart already.

emotional detachment may be useful, but it fucks you up.
i can't seem to want to spend longer than a night with someone who shows vague interest in me.
fear of commitment?? nahh mate, fear of being TOO commited.
now i have this huge cut on my palm and i can't remember doing it.
and scrawny-indie-boy-curling-round-me-like-a-cat withdrawl.
bloody red wine aha. shouldn't have topped my glass up so much. :/