July 2010
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Now, me
Right right right right right right right. Ok. Ok ok. Yeah.
So basically I realise everything about my personality is getting vomited on by my current jobless, money-less, completely motivation-less mind at the moment. I can’t write SHIT. And I don’t mean shit like the shit that’s on here. All the little bits and bobs I can’t turn into anything. I mean BIG SHIT like ‘YEAH GONNA ENTER THIS...
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I saw my ex-husband in the street, I was sitting on the steps of the new...
– Grace Paley
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Months too late
12-Nov-2010 = Dorky dorky little girl.
Are you under 25 With yellow corners to your eyes? Matching fingertips, & lips, Cracked & chapped, corners of which Spill mindless slurs On Saturday nights?
Are you a fan of bands I like? Craft poses you’d like to strike, For a camera, pretty face With legs and hair Down, then up to here. Are you under 25?
Do you drink liquids straight? And...
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When I’m happy I tend not to notice until it’s over. Which is totally fucking shit. All these melancholic faces I make a month later. It’s as if none of this happened at all.
I am carrying a bag of vegetables from the markets to my house and feeling the road is made of uneven nail-tops. My shoes are loose and I was so inebriated last night that I fell over on my steps and laughed and lunged...
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