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[icon] Oh, how beautiful youth is...
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Time:12:22 pm
Eighth floor.
Windows tremble
Beneath the constant pitter patter.
Opening mine, I look down and
Each drop flickers with recognition
As it holds the city scape
That hurtles past inside.

Until shattering into the ripples of the pavement.

Shredded paper lies
In lines twisted into curls
Bounced hairlike
Into place
Shuddering slightly.

The vapid swivels
Turn like a tounge
Over teeth
Repeating a word
Til it loses coherance.

The sky is lit up -
a yellow glow of the stars
of strip lights
And street lamps
That tell you there's no need to look up.

And the flicker of
Eyelids wanting to escape
The concocted smiles
Reflected on my lips,
As they did the last time we spoke.

I turn over.

The cold side of the pillow
Feels sodden against the skin
Of my softened cheek;
The O in your face blows stagnant air
Into mine.

You sleep in your suit.

There's no other outfit, you say,
That can make you feel so naked.
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Subject:By B H Fraser
Time:12:22 am

Like the girl on TV, 'Miss Celebrity'

Coming back to me

Deep in thought

as I navigate the night reading

Hoping she saw up there ‘flyers'.

“Miss, I tell you

the whole extent is wonderful

Downned in one gulp,

In many dreams as one,

Migrating somewhere, some place

your curves on the fuselage of chartered light

in the wide but visible unknown of hide and seek”.

Up here

……with soap, clean linen, hotel ‘a la carte'

and in the sunlight stroke between “them” –

pale, smoke

and glassed

horizons that fiercely burnt this last light

(and life)

With heat stroke.

Where it's always light but breathless

And glows green/white –

To the end of ‘all seeing'

Of the-not-seeing-under-control-rountine.

Finally migrating away.

in airless flight

Both senseless and simulated.

Lowering a wing inward.

With the world alight as we make this final approach

To think of her smile,

The screen ahead fusing itself

With this vision

And the next.
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Subject:Gretchen Primack Poem
Time:04:10 pm
I’m tired. Men can Hey baby
all they want. A station wagon
shudders into reverse,
a plum wrinkles
its skin; three nurses
walk their smoke break,
a bird decides no,
paper bag tumbleweeds
tumble. Too much
hangs on a doorknob.
Too many choke
the awnings. Tired water
holds itself up by the curbs;
all that grows in the hardy
filth of the avenue
holds itself up; the dirty hands
and minds, someone
hollering about grace.
Look at that bucket of carrots
outside the deli, glowing
like a lampshade. How can that man,
peeling them in another language,
bear it?
Beside him, pyramids of citrus.
Rows and pyramids and buckets:
all that bounty at eye level. Up above,
nothing at all, as if the sky
has always been imaginary.
- Gretchen Primack
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Time:03:48 pm
Current Mood:contemplativecontemplative
I've been thinking about the moments I spend alone, the little moments at work when I make small talk with someone who I would never normally talk to and yet at work we are friends, we are happy to see eachother, we are smoking and caring about weather and broken headsets and the way the system is so irritating to the both of us when actually I really couldn't care less, but it makes the day go by. It is something in my life that is totally mine and my friends might hear about some of the larger issues at my job but they don't know the small laughs at customers, they don't know the little discussions that give you eyes into the other people in the world, the small number of customers that you really feel something for. And those walks home when the night is lit up by the offices of menial workers still shuffling on within squares of broken strip lighting, and the streetlamps by the estate that flicker and fizz, and the drip of songs in to one's eardrum, the beat and repeated emotion from produced sound and how it makes me feel, how it makes me feel when I see the terraced blocks move past my aching feet with the music pounding in my head and the thoughts on overdrive, imagining conversations I could be having with you or someone new, or the possible love I strive for in my daydreams, checking my phone to see if you've called. The newsagents on my journey is run by a young woman who keeps her baby out back and only leaves it's crying side when a customer comes in to buy a box of matches and she checks my age, I think she's younger than I am. Those little moments when your manager offers a lift, and you realise they aren't the monsters they make out to be. And yet no inspiration for my writing, and yet when I think of things to write I get distracted, and yet I can't seem to care about any of it. I find myself needing to be late just to lose those precious minutes to the whirring of the washing machine and the the click of the gas. Seconds just sitting and staring at the work clothes that lie motionless on the floor, seeming cold and uncaring. Hours skipping from house to house to see friend or acquaintance just to avoid the terrifying boredom and crashing pessimism in my own head and yet when I think I think of things that could be and it depresses me to know they never will. My brain constantly reminds me I'm alone. My brain constantly feels the need to pick defect after defect until nothing I have done or will do has meaning. Like saying a word over and over until all you have is the syllable, intonation and beat. The movement of your lips and the caress of your tongue over your teeth and the small vibrations in your throat. Bringing it all down into specific repetitive droan. I am a glass of water on the mantlepiece stagnating in my self made cage. I am a snippet, a flash, a minature cog. I am the same experience you could have with anyone. I am making conversation. I am small paranoid worries in the back of your head itching to take over. If you don't look quick enough, I'm no longer here.
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Time:03:20 pm
Utilitarian squares of light
Slouch as I move past
And star the roadside
With unknown life.

Discussing the stupidity
Of our countrymen
As we are paid to be polite
And keep no sympathy
At the workplace.

Headphones push out disjointed
Fades and keep my mind
In a haze of unspoken

Blurred poster headlines
And road names lost in short sight.
Incorrect grammar
On a Fish and Chip shop.

That song reminds me
Of a piece of you,
A frame of fun.
I miss you.

Waiting while the person
On the other end finds
That piece of paper
In their disorganised briefcase,
Scanning the television.

Weaving pictures in imagination
Whilst you lie motionless
Eyes shut, mouth open,
Nothing needs to be said.

A vague worry about perspiration,
Part of my lip peels free.
The ashtray fills with contemplation
A hair out of place.

And I need to say...
I need to say the things
I've said a thousand times.
I need to tell you.

Collected mess by the side
Of my bed, carrier bags,
Bank statements no one will read.

Time to sit and feel like one
And not need to express or show
Or need.

Time to breathe.
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Current Music:Jose Gonzalez
Current Location:London
Time:05:05 pm
Current Mood:cheerfulcheerful
I was happily surprised by how I feel being back in London. Seeing all my friend together again made me realise why we have been friends all this time. So many of the girls I have met in Portsmouth have been so fucking high maintenance it makes me want to scream! Are girls seriously like that? How the fuck does anyone put up with them? Me and my girlfriends are friends because we aren't just made up of all that artificial bullshit... and I suppose, therefore, misfits. It's why we don't work a lot of the time too - we are very different people set in our own ways - but at the end of the day we respect each other for our differences and that's the most important thing. I haven't felt so happy to know them for a very long time - years in fact.

But I am also happy that I am away, as it forces me to realise the things I've lost, and what is worth keeping. It doesn't feel like home anymore here.

Very worried about money. Christmas shopping today really did me in. Spending this months rent on essentials. Oh dear.
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Time:01:17 am
Very confused as to how I feel about going back to London. In one way I'm really looking forward to getting away from the stress I feel here but then at the same time I have an equal amount of stress there. I just have security in things that I probably don't want and surely that's not a good thing? I do feel a desperate need to move on but I kinda feel like everything i was trying and needing to escape from still sits here because its all inside me I guess. I am the problem here. I attatch too much to people and do too much and give people the wrong idea... I need people so much it's crazy. I think so much about it. As while I am here and alone and I know that outside there is no excitement and that people are arseholes most of the time and there is nothing here for me that makes me want to leave the house. I am so bloody restless all the time! God I can't properly explain it, but i really need something more.
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Current Music:Heroes is on the tv
Current Location:Living Room, Portsmouth
Time:11:41 pm
Current Mood:apatheticapathetic
It's been a pretty strange fortnight here in Portsmouth. I've felt very alone, and realised all too well that the friendships Ive got here are ten times more important to me than them, and it's hard to know that I'm that unimportant. I am still trying to make more friends so that I will always have someone to call as last week when I had a falling out with one guy, I realised that without his group of friends I pretty much have no one. Sex is a weird one. It's always seemed to work out before, its been good and you know, that's that, but both my sexual experiences here in Pompey have been really odd. I don't know what it makes me feel. Slightly strange. I'm having to go to the hospital tomorrow to get the morning after pill which is really rubbish because I don't trust that pill and I've taken it too many times already, i think this will be the forth time and that's not good. Although nt as bad as my aunt who's been crap enough to have 4 abortions. I think I've been too horny for my own good recently, and maybe perhaps I should have thought about things more but none of this crap is my problem. I'm positive the men involved have issues.

It's good that I've been less of a relationship fiend though. I mean I was worried that I'd fall back into a familiar pattern but thank god I've made it perfectly clear that I will be single for a while. Getting over what Luke did to me will take longer than I expect I imagine. Met a girl last night who has basically had the same life as me which was really weird... she'd had her own Josh and her own Luke and now she's really happy in a relationship, I suppose it just takes time to adjust to who I am. I am very reliant on what people think of me and what people say to me, I need to feel secure in myself, especially now when I am so alone. I mean, everything is up to me here which is always a bad idea - to place any responsibility on me to do things right - I always fuck up because I can't be bothered. I mean it is so stressful here not knowing whether people like me or not. At least in London, however depressed I was, I knew that the people around me loved me and needed me. I'm one of many here at the moment, not yet established with anyone which is confusing. I have no one Ican call when I just want to get out of my house without worrying about everything, and quite often when I do call people say no. Of course I ad extra meaning to those moments when I'm sure they mean nothing but it's hard to just take the initiative when worried of being rejected. I dunno.

I realised my naivety I think since being here. I am not a mature as I felt before. But I just don't feel right in this. I feel so restless, I am desperate to just travel and meet people and learn through life rather than timetabled events. I just don't know whether I'm ready to be here, time has gone pretty quickly and i've been here for almost 3 months and something still doesnt fit. I have butterflies in my stomach a lot of the time like i'm waiting for something or expecting something and vaguely because i need to get out. I feel very stuck. Being here for 3 years doesnt excite me just worries me because it's so long and I have to wait all that time before actually being able to do what I feel I need to do and want to do. I enjoy myself but it's nothing deeper than that if you know what I mean, like, its all on the surface but doesnt mean anything to me... I can't really explain any better than that.

Hmm. Anyway I'm not amazingly happy here and I'm not happy at all in London... We'll see. I'm sure maybe once ive made some proper friends then I'll feel a lot better. Anyway, must get back to writing this godforsaken essay.

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Current Music:The Chemical Brothers - Galvanize
Subject:Its been a while
Time:05:00 pm
Current Mood:blahblah
Well yes I dont really use livejournal anymore but I feel the onset of a rant so thought id vent it here. I have to go back to London for the weekend and to be honest I am utterly dreading it. It is stressing me out so much! It is like the moment when I came into Brixton station after a month in Europe and the first thing I thought was 'Luke is near'. I can't get it out of my head. Here in Portsmouth I actually feel like I've moved on, I actually feel like a person again for the first time in so long, and I just want to reject Tufnell Park completely from my life. There's this guy here who I've had a little meaningless blah thing with, who is really intellegent and nice and good looking and just being able to have a bloke there who ive had a little sex with but you know, im in control of the situation, i dont have to do anything for him... i dunno it feels freeing. its like actually yeah, i can be independant and control my own life. very important. But LUKE IS RIGHT THERE when I go back to London, right fucking there and theres too much fucking history and emotion and i really hate it. i just want rid of him. but i just dont have it in me to say so.

I’m gaining gradual insomnia
From a bulb that won’t switch off
The mind fills with sexual frustrations
Ancient I love yous grope not to be forgot.

The only time you told me you loved me
You were holding me by the neck
Now the emotion and the passion
Scream back at me and letch.

Mock the security held before
Look at my crying against the front door
I’m broken to insanity like a used-up whore.

It captures me.

Lying here light flickering in a
Grey sort of dark
Conversations play
Imagination runs amok.

Do I really need someone that much?
Is my happiness and tranquillity
Solely decided by a quick fuck?

I feel a need to be surrounded
By a smog of darkness
I need to rediscover
An awakened lack of tiredness.
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Time:03:01 pm
My new plan for summer:

I leave July 4th for Basel, Switzerland on Eurostar.
Then Get Train to Zurich, stay one night there.
Meet Uncle and travel to Luzern. Stay with him and his girlfriend for 3 nights.
Travel to Locarno, 2 nights
Lljubliana (Slovenia), 2 nights
Either Bottom of Slovenia or Split, croatia, one night
Bosnia (Sarejevo, Mostar, Sutjeska National Park)
Montenegro, two nights probably
Belgrade, three nights?
Hungary, three nights with Ruby, Zoe and Simone
Czech Republic - Plzen, Prague
Brussels, Belgium
3rd August - Avignon, France (meet parents)
7th August - RETORNO.
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[icon] Oh, how beautiful youth is...
View:Recent Entries.
You're looking at the latest 10 entries, after skipping 10 newer ones.
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