Money can't buy you back the love that you had then...

The dark envelopes the scene from my window. Trees painted black with night, struggling against her great arms. The floodlights from the garden centre next door illuminate the moss-eaten wall like a reading lamp, so I can see the chapters of it's life and the binding that's falling apart. Rabbits flit, like tiny cars on a green motorway, like tiny baseball players. The stone path reminds me of the Irish beaches, the tiny fragments unattractive and loud. Mountains, black as ink, are vaguely visible. Indigo-charcoal skies swallow them. The whirring of my laptop kisses my ears, welcome compared to screaming and shouting that usually is audible in my home. The faint mumbling of the kitchen television. Life's good. When I think about those down-and-outs, sitting alone on the street with 3 hessian blankets and a McDonalds coffee cup filled with gleaming coppers, it makes me think about existance. Why are we here? Will we ever know? I think that maybe we find out the minute we pass on, that it all just clicks in our brain and we know. But we're gone already, so it doesn't even matter.

School today. Decided against showering because I hadn't done my history homework. I swear, what the hell was I thinking? Consequences of World War II essay over silky, salon-style hair. Fuckloads of homework. It's a teacher's strike tomorrow, they obviously have misplaced it within their minds as a 3 month holiday of some sort. I'm not allowed to breathe fresh air and talk to human beings until it's all done. I physically can't do the maths. When the fuck in my life am I ever going to need to know functions and algebraic graphs and square roots? I'm going to be a writer, remember? Not a fucking mathematician. I just sat there drawing umbrellas and pools of blood on my notebook all day with my crap skin, greasy hair, and glasses that make me look like an oxygen-starved goldfish. Jesus, if I had to go outside looking the way I do in school, I'd be in screaming hysterics. AHHHHHHHH. And I'd have no friends because Lucy with glasses totes drives people away.



I got back to Gaia. New Account is Liars And Lighters. Yes, you YMA6 fans, is totally first album inspired. My old name is Suicide Skank and I just realized how stupid it is. I'm a total n00b. I just have green skinny jeans, gentleman grey waistcoat, ruffled red tank, grey high tops, skunk plushie and machete. And that little flower that's all encrusted. I'm not one for questing, so I'm just saving up for new hair by forum-fagging and doing jigsaws. Ah, the GD; it's my home. It's like me: constant dirty joke thread, always babbling with romance, hatred of Twilight. Happy days, cyberworld, happy days. Discovered Tegan & Sara, Bombay Bicycle Club and Broken Social Scene. zOMG totally addicted already. I've spent 2 days just humming along to the flowing acoustics and throaty vocals, mesmerized by the quiet drum beats lulling me into a hypnotic trance. It's like I've died and gone to heaven, a spiritual awakening even. Music, the beauty, eh?


I shall go now. Because I'm weird. Actually, am in intense msn conversation with Jemma. I love that girl, even if she's a crazy drunk.

LUCY
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