PatheticGirl43 here coming to you live\ \ 🍷🧘♀️ comraderoxy@gmail.com\ \ close to me ...
Oh, to be done with it! This drudgery, Utterly uninspired ill. Cast off Catherine and her disciples On the road to self-actualisation, Puckered mouths caked in amber and sick At the heels of canonisation, wholly unearned, Quixotic cripples Into your sane and sanguine arms.
You have never been in love Until you’ve seen the stars Reflect in the reservoir, And it seems your head is in the clouds above, You’ve got the ways of a woman in love – So you get ready, you get all dressed up To go nowhere in particular, Back to work or the coffee shop, It don’t matter, ‘cause it’s enough To be young and in love
It’s my ninth day in Greece, and life is slow. My grandma used to tell me that intelligent children can entertain themselves. I’m no longer a child, but still generally believe this statement to be true, and a year of low screen time (as well as a lifetime of unemployment) has found me testing its verity more than ever. In London, I go to the cinema once a week; sometimes more. I play guitar, and…
There are delicious things piled on the countertop, And dripping down your neckline, Where my eyes are picking cherries, bunny, And I’ll love you every second of it. Wasted and festering you found me, When the shitstorm shadowed the price of milk – You praised me still. When I chewed through my collar, You praised me still. Now what can we do but entwine? And dance salsa around the dining-table,…
A bagel with cream cheese, Warm jumper, chilly weather, Iranian pears from the corner shop It’s the little things, flour, sugar, salt, molasses And suddenly nothing fits quite right Are these months not scornful? Wry and rotten, whiskers up Shivering like stupid fruits I dreamed again of picket white fences Of cinnamon and hundredth dates But all the pears go brown and all the cherry trees fall…
I was getting a blowout the other day, and asked the woman doing my hair if she owns the business. She said yes, and I replied that it must be hard, owning a business. I won’t soon forget her reply, which was along the lines of, Hard, yes, but everything is hard. Even doing nothing is hard; your bones start to ache. Maybe, after hearing this, something in my subconscious drove me back to…
I realise my mistake at around 3am, when my limbs are starched flat on the bed but in my head sets off a cut, sparking wire that’s jumping around and making my heart thump and stop. Netflix is still autoplaying It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia and the episode is The Gang Beats Boggs, and I feel heavyheaded for the first time in days which is a small slice of bliss so for a few minutes I ignore…
I’m sitting in a massive bedroom - massive, that is, compared to the size of my old one - surrounded by bin bags and boxes full of my stuff. I don’t really know where to start. My toiletries are unpacked, as are most of my bits and bobs, a few coats, most of my dresses. That sounds like almost everything a person should have, and yet I count 10 more bags of clothes and 5 boxes of books, as well as…
I shall keep it brief: Copenhagen is a wonderful city, but I am a silly girl. I thought, this is Denmark, I won’t need a drop of SPF! So I walked all of yesterday and lay in the park, and had wine and oysters at the Reffen by the water, and, to no one’s surprise but my own, left all this with a mild case of heat exhaustion, no doubt exacerbated by my terrible anxiety. What can I say. If any of you…
Uninspired! Ain’t that the truth. This has been the deal for the past few weeks. I haven’t written, nor have I done anything particularly interesting or social. The World Cup is on, the sun is out - time to drink and chat a bit. We’re moving flat in a few days, me and her and flatmate, plus a new guy. I’ll get my affairs in order soon, but, Today, I’m headed to Copenhagen, and for the first time…