Autumn, and right back where I started from. London, rainy and cold london. The city where I was created, where my mother left me and I started to build up my own character. Wore the cloths I thought fit, not the ones she put out on the bed for me. Heartbroken still, but not as living as before and therefore it hurts less. What do you do when you've lived an entire life during one year?
Fuck a stranger, tell him to hit you hard in the face. Watch The Loved One. Drink five bottles of plumwine and watch the earth spin. Try heroin. Give away your favourit Prada dress to the homeless lady who sleeps on the sidewalk around the corner of your seven bedroom apartment. Listen to Joy division. Call your father and tell him he fucked you up because you loved him to much.
Or let go of the rage. Find some inner peace. That is what Jane Austin would do.
4 comments:
how can you describe such frustration,
and still write so lovely?
because every time I try it just comes out disjointed and needy.
gosh. I hate this so much.
but I love your post.
Ideally the answer would be the latter, but its never really that easy is it?
It's always more appealing to go with the former choice, but even afterwards, the emptiness remains.
Never an enjoyable position to be in.
Hello my darling girl. Your spirit continues to amaze. Gone but not forgotten, xo - E.
ahh joy division and plumwine <3
Post a Comment