i could just write

& write for hours and still not say anything. usually i write about good books ive read, plays ive seen, films ive watched and songs ive listened to. not to mention gigs ive attended, things ive done and people ive seen. well, in case anyone cares, lolita is a beautifully written book, meeting joe strummer is a very interesting play, where is my mind is impossible to listen to due to the memories associated with it, jedward are amazing live (ghost busters (L))!, sitting in the sun is lovely and this weekend was spent entirely at al's house with her and mike.

but you know, i dont know if i care. im writing a book. slowly slowly. a love story. not a romance novel but an actual study into the emotions people feel when they're trying to deny or accept love. im going to scotland to detox and chill out over easter so im gonna spend the majority of the time writing. i am so close to mike and alice at the minute that i could scream and the tighter i hug them, the more i love them.

this weekend was one of the best ive ever had, even if we did all nearly die on sunday.

i am going to spain for a month in summer.

i am going to not eat, not sleep, not rest and not do anything that is remotely unsatisfying until september.

i dont care about my health for the moment. fuck everything. its fun.

i have some fizzy blue laces to eat now, ba bye.