City Sara Bareilles
i’m moving to melbourne next week because, despite popular opinion, i can.
but the whole leaving of here is breaking my heart into a million tiny pieces. Urgh. In other news, Kiara has a blog?!?!? yewwwwwwwwwwwwwwww reblog heaven ^_^
When a book begins to draw uncanny lines between the diary you wrote a month ago, the diary you wrote 4 years ago, and the thoughts you haven’t managed to gather completely yet, you can assume some kind of handiwork of the devil, and must focus hard to prevent him putting his dirty fingerprints on all facets of your life and thought.
“‘It’s true. Of course it’s true…’ She paused before making up her mind to say, ‘Everything I’ve ever done of any value I’ve had to do alone. I didn’t mind at the time. I was content - and by the way, I don’t expect to be happy. Happiness is an occasional, summer lightning thing. But I did find peace of mind, and during all those years I used to think I was all right on my own. I had family, friends, visitors. I was glad when they came, and I was glad when they left. But now…’
"I had needled her out of reminiscence into a confession. I turned a fresh page in my notebook.
“‘When I was told how ill I was and I came here to seal myself off for one last time, solitude began to look like my biggest single failure. A huge mistake. Making a good life, where’s the point in doing that alone? When I think over those years in France I sometimes feel a cold wind blowing back in my face. Bernard think I’m a silly occultist, and I think he’s a fish-eyed commissar who’d turn in the lot of us if it would buy a material heaven on earth - that’s the family story, the family joke. The truth is we love each other, we’ve never stopped, we’re obsessed. And we failed to do a thing with it. We couldn’t make a life. We couldn’t give up the love, but we couldn’t bend to its power. The problem’s easy enough to describe, but we never described it at the time. We never said, look, this is how we feel, so where do we go from here? No, it was always a muddle, arguments, arrangements about the children, day-to-day chaos and growing separation and different countries. Shutting it all out was how I found peace. If I’m bitter it’s because I haven’t forgiven myself. If I’d learned to levitate a hundred feet in the air it wouldn’t have made up for the fact that I never learned how to talk to or be with Bernard. Whenever I’m complaining about some latest social breakdown in the newspapers I have to remind myself - why should I expect millions of strangers with conflicting interests to get along when I can’t make a simple society with the father of my children, the man I’ve loved and remain married to?’”
Black Dogs by Ian McEwan
my cat knows i’m leaving,
he hasn’t left my side for the last 3 days and his meows are becoming broken and quiet. right now he’s nuzzled into the nook of my left elbow as i’m typing with my right and every now and then he looks up to me with big yellow eyes like silent meows. i always leave him. i’m the girl who comes back sometimes and feeds him more than usual and lets him sleep under my doona with me, and then leaves again.
To limit the spam, i will only post those pictures of Alexa that she’s wearing overalls in. To be quite honest i only really like her in overalls.
Kiara and i doing the reflection thing like nothing has changed. and it’s true, things haven’t changed much at all.
wearing a heart monitor and i can’t sleep because the heater is on too high and it is so damn exciting to be wearing a heart monitor and well i probably shouldn’t have had that coffee before to try and trigger palpitations or watch that scary movie about murder and the devil or put the heater on so high but really i’m just up really late because I’m trying to imagine what life would be like without someone to love and i’m not doing a very good job of it and the heater is on too high but i would rather sweat than be reminded of the cold.
I get this song stuck in my head often when I’m in a car. It Could Happen to You
funny things mum says that i write down and hold against her later:
"Take a candid photo, mum." "Well, turn around so I can take a candid photo!"
(talking about eggplants) “the abergenies in the garden…”
(on the phone) “Oh! you’re just the person i wanted to talk to! Well you’re not really, it’s your mother I want to talk to.”
(referring to the Button Collective) “the button-holers…”
I guess I feel frustrated at being unfairly marginalised and hated on because my parents were raging hipsters and I was nothing but born this way.
She’s just hands down stylish overall.
NOTE WELL: this blog will no longer be beyond superficially interesting because i’m back in the “real” world of unemployment, further study, and the need to express petty hipster things like
I adore alexa chung and 35mm film is totally cool. Sorry everyone.
the happiness of meeting again after a long time