A moment alone...

[Set The Mood - Fader by Temper Trap]

Ash has gone JLS and I wanted to have a nice big talky time 'til I remembered the concert. So I decided the only even relatively useful thing to do with my time is eat a sprinkle donut and blog, because, let's face it, I am a bad blogger. Sorry about lack of posts, was busy in school/Johnny Cash/msning people to blog. 

Not much has changed, really. I'm happier because of something, but if I blog it, I might ruin it or jinx it, y'know? I like being happy. It changes how I see things. Sister's confirmation was on Thursday, and even though I got the day off school for it, I didn't go. I lied for a while about it, when people asked how it was. But truth is that it was another breakdown. I was putting on my makeup and all I saw was my nose and my spots and my squinty eyes and my braces and my weird shaped lips and my love-handles and the little pouch of fat that hangs delightfully under my waist, and my small boobs and short legs. I felt my way into the fetal position and cried for ages, parents attempting to coax me etc. For a while they were angry, and my sister was crying and my mom was pleading and whining. When they'd finally decided on leaving me, I realized how selfish and thick I was (which really didn't help) but budged myself off the walnut flooring of my room and stumbled down the stairs to the melodious sounds of The Temper Trap and strength-giving Blondie. I sprayed abooot 40 sprays of my Bach Rescue Remedy on my tongue and decided that I should be presentable for guests after. I did my eyeshadow pretty and everything. And the rest of the day was fine. It's peculiar. They're making a shrink appointment tomorrow. 

The next day while brushing my teeth, I overheard my parents having a discussion about finance. Dammit, it didn't sound so great. I don't know.

The Lovely Bones is amazing. I've decided straight out that I'm not going to watch the movie simply because of the fact that there is no way it'll live up to the book. The words are spun in little spindles of silk, in a way that would be destroyed by any director. Also, Susie Salmon is not Saoirse Ronan in any way. Seriously.

Crap post, but comment anyway.

Hoping for about 5? Link?

LUCY

Trying to find the hole inside my head...

[ Set The Mood ] - Giving Up The Gun - Vampire Weekend

Today was the first day of school after the midterm. It was like this big icy tide come to rain on my parade. It's kind of shocking how fast something hit me though: I need to get working. Lately one phrase has absolutely bombarded my brain. 'Rest of your life, rest of your life, rest of your life'. I know, nobody thinks the Junior Cert. is very important, but I need to get at least honours? Aiming for C's is probably not what I imagined myself aiming for back when I was in first year, but it means I have a nice skeleton to fill in during senior cycle in school. Basically, I want my classes to be Honours Irish, Honours English, Pass Maths, Honours French, Chemistry, Biology and History. Aims of 2010 have been decided as follows: Do well in school, start writing my book and find some sort of teenage love/romance. The only problem is they won't work side by side, they're all gonna get in the way of each other. Comment your ideas?

I'm starting to feel left out again. First noticed on Saturday. Everyone was mingling, getting along. I was watching 'em. It's like I'm accepted, but that doesn't mean they have to get close to me? Don't get me wrong. Some of them are amazing. And it mostly only happens when they're in groups, where they can bond and go "Ha ha, look at this short, stumpy weirdo". But it upsets me. Had another 2 miniature break downs. And parents found out more things. They're forcing me into professional help. I know plenty of people who are currently seeing or have previously seen a shrink, but it doesn't seem like it'll be my cup of tea. Especially the way my father phrased it. 'We just need a third judgment of you'. Grrreat. Half the problem is people judging me. I just feel like it's a waste of money, when we're already having financial problems. 

Vampire Weekend's Contra is a let down. I like it, but it's not quite as good as the previous album. White Skies is my current favourite. I give it aboot 3 stars.

As a finishing note, I need to lose weight. Everyone bug me and insult me to get me motivated.

LUCY

I don't know what's truly altruistic anymore...

[ Set The Mood ] Obsessions - Marina & The Diamonds

I need more change. I was reading my formsprings and somebody asked why I talk about matters I don't know. See, that was never my point. For some reason, I always assumed people got the point from the first post they read: naive, young girl who likes to record her feeling and thoughts and what she sees. But instead they think I'm rambling about things I have no clue about. The funny thing about the question is that they said 'wait until your twenties'... In 5-6 years time, I'll be only a fraction the wiser. 40 years still might not be enough to understand life at all. Anyhoo, on to the change. I think I'll change how I format my posts.  Shorten them, change what they're about. Limit the pictures to ones I take myself. Post daily - almost daily. Maybe I'll just shut it down. But first of all, I'm taking down the rating system. Nothing like spending 45 minutes writing something to be bombarded with 'crapola's. I need ideas from you guys anyway.

But that's not the extent of my change. I need to smudge it into real life too. Help with my list?:

• Less insulting/sarcastic
• Shut my mouth
• Tone myself up
• Eat fruit and drink water when I'm hungry
• Dress more classy then slutty
• Learn some manners
• Get more philanthropic
• Go platinum blonde

That's all I have so far.
Comment your ideas?


LUCY

formspring.me

Favourite feature in a person?

Eyes are verryy important to me. The way they act, how sensual they are, how happy... etc. There are more than one. (:

megan fox or hayley willams?

Hayley Williams. No questions.

Tea or coffee?

Tea with 4-5 sugars and verryyy little milk. I'm picky.

fave song everrr?

Naive by the Kooks. Or Suffragette City by David Bowie. Crack the Shutters by Snow Patrol. Cosmic Love by Florence and The Machine. Tainted Love by Soft Cell. I Want you To Want Me by Cheap Trick. It varies. (Y)

Fave band?

The Kooks orrr Snow Patrol. (:

Can I have your legs? They're lovely.

Okay. If I can have your boobs ;)

How is your hair always so straight?

HAIR DRYERR. <3

Ask me anything

Roses are Red, Violets are Blue... Fuck You Whore.

[ Set The Mood ] Hero - Regina Spektor

The ivory skies are flowing with melancholy above everybody's heads. The air that is cold, but not refreshing. The smell of damp and mildew. And frost gently kisses the grass on those blue mornings, leaving that annoying wisp of silver that's not quite beautiful. Just average. Depressingly average. I don't understand; There's gorgeous Summer, all three months. With it's glowing, amber ambiance and dewy grass, and warm rain showers that feel amazing on our light baked skin. There's Spring, the birth of new, glorious, colourful flowers with their honey-sugar scent and the pregnant clouds that block the slate skies. And autumn has the whole crunchy 'we're all in a big oven' feeling that so many people adore. Winter is enchanting for the first while, but it annoys me when it's ink runs right into February, as it has now. I am begging for Spring-Summer-Autumn. I feel so off-focus and off-schedule, like someone smudged my lens. All I can do is eat and cry. I don't know. Another crappy post, I guess?


Watched (500) Days of Summer again. It's just. Wow. I highly recommend (and will eventually force) anyone and everyone who has not seen it yet to find someway to bask in it's wonders. I'm not sure whether to call spoiler alert or not, but I want to talk about the movie and the points made and elaborated on throughout the film. Fairytales. And cynicism. And serendipity. And hope and destiny and fate. It basically brings, if only a little bit, realism to the indie rom-com genre. At one point, we see a man falling head over heels in love with a woman. A simple concept; He just adores her quirky, casual air. But we see him clutching at straws, as she plays him like a fool, and he's left running around with a blind-fold on. It shows the ups, but mostly downs, of Summer & Tom's relationship in a clear light, instead of the silly flaws overlooked by the hero in every other romantic movie. Let's face it: In real life, we don't overlook flaws. No matter how much we love someone (even in a platonic way) we are going to see flaws and be annoyed by them. The one thing that makes me really and truly hate on people who are in love is when they call each other perfect and mean it. It's different when they use the phrase 'perfect for me' because they know what they mean. That this person has flaws, and is not the same as them, but they click in a jigsaw type of way. But when they say perfect, I facepalm. Perfection is like Santa Clause, you believe in it until you know better. Anyway, I just took the road less traveled in telling you that flaws are important and perfection isn't real. I have lost my mind.

Another thing my mind has dwelled on lately is existence. Why are we here? I guess we need enlightenment to know. There's another question. How do we reach enlightenment? See, this is why theology and religious spirituality is a load of bollocks. Ironically, I do think spirituality is important but on a personal level, rather than 'oh look, I'mma sing songs and talk to a giant bearded zombie in the skies' type of way. Anyway, it's because they dig holes that they can't plant trees in. False hope. People give half hour sermons on how if we live like Jesus or Muhammad, we'll reach enlightenment and the afterlife, himmel. It's sugar-coating that we're all gonna die. That we'll just lie there, six feet under, rotting and we're gone. Rather than telling us that, they say we all live the lives we wished we lived on Earth in the skies, or in the world around us. That we get recycled. I don't know, controversial topic, but it's an opinion. And I'm quite the cynic.


Loads of 'crapola's as of late. Hence why I might shut this down soon. People don't like listening to me ramble on about bittersweet nothing and my philosophical and moral errors.  I know that I've been expanding old material in recent posts, but my mind changes on the topics every once in a while, and documentation is the key to success, methinks. Comment about your favourite movie, your opinion on religion, here and now, and flaws.



Lucy

Pens and Daggers

I haven't posted in a while, so I thought I'd make a short and sweet post while I let my conditioner sink in. Mocks over, midterm started. Overall, the mocks were..... okay. Stressful, but I wasn't suicidal. Midterm so far. Hmm. Friday: not even going into that, let's just say that I'm an idiot. Saturday was better, just chilled with some friends in a relaxed, nonplussed way.

Valentine's day though... Aha, the purchase-fuelled 'romantic' day of the year. Don't get me wrong; I do cry my bollocks off because of my lack of an other half. But it's such a prosaic concept. Heelloooo, you lovely couply folk, are you just trying to make me feel like shit? I was in town, watched Ponyo (which is good) and then dropped by at the Chinese New Year festival. I swear to god, it was like a massive big edition of Mr & Mrs. I wanted to scream 'FUCK ALL OF YOU' but I didn't because people doubt my sanity enough as it is already. So yeah, boo them.

Will post another blog tomorrow, methinks. Or if not tomorrow, the next day. But I'm also contemplating shutting this down. Because... nobody cares about my problems, really.

Ughh, and one last note; do you ever get annoyed by people who try so hard to be original that they end up changing their minds every few seconds? Especially when they criticize others. It's just AGGHHHHH. Idk, maybe it's just me.

Love and Kisses,

Lucy

No dawn, no day, I'm always in this twilight...

Opening note: I wrote this last night. Fell asleep too fast to post it. :)

Here I am, sitting alone in the semi-quiet room. The skies outside are black like death, looking perfidious and unfriendly. Maybe it's the glare from the lights, but from the window it looks blank and starless, like someone just wiped a blackboard. The eyesores of bright, white unnatural glow beaming from the garden centre next door show the reality that we've ruined our earth, failed at stewardship, and the next generation to receive our world in their hands will be left with a mess of fluorescence, chewing gum encrusted pathways and an absence of trees, pandas, polar bears, fossil fuels and natural magnificence. Look back at poetry of great writers that died before they could see how we destroyed their muse.Their work speaks of magical nature; seasons changing, the colours, the sheer amazement of flowing streams and soft golden rays of sun. With these strange weather patterns, It's as if our earth is crying for help, pleading for our attention. As a human, I am ashamed.

The Mocks closed in so fast. Last time I checked, it was January the First at12am & I was watching that Hootenanny thing with my dad, jumping around idiotically to Dizzee Rascal and Florence & The Machine. After this, it's a short jump to Junior Certificate (in which I haven't completed two projects that everybody else has and I'm too embarrassed and anxious to ask the teachers for help) and then it's two shorts years and Leaving Cert. And then the rest of my life. I've brought this up before, I know, but the utter rapidity of it is mind-blowing. I just hope I do okay in the mocks. Maths and Geoggers were today. I feel I did terrible in Maths, but very well in Geography. *pride*. I finished Maths in an hour and then highlighted my hands. I've got no motivation for studying lately, much like everything else. This type of unconscious apathy is so immature, but I can't rid myself of it.What if I don't end up as some sort of writer? What if I end up as a bum, drinking scotch all day, bones protruding and wearing atrocious attire? My dream is to write, and get my fifteen minutes of fame and spend my life in my dinky London apartment overlooking the Thames; wearing patent Louboutins and elegant beige and tope linen, floral tulip skirts and sweet heart mini-dresses with my pro Nikon slung around my neck. I guess I just don't deserve it.

I was googling some poems for English when I came across two poems I hadn't read in a long time: Ode To A Nightingale by John Keats & Lara, 10 by Michael Hartnett. Reading them aloud to myself, I felt captured and embraced by the sugar-spun, indulgent writing styles. I'm going to share extracts with you, because frankly, creativity isn't what you grow or are born with, it's bestowed upon you by what you encounter:

'O for a beaker full of warm south,

Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene

with beaded bubbles winking at the brim

& purple stained mouths...

...Where beauty cannot keep her lustrous eyes,

Or new love pine at them beyond tomorrow...'

                -Keats

'Here's my blessing for you, girl,

and it is no petty grace-

May you have the beauty of your mother's soul

and the beauty of her face.'

-Hartnett

Before I call an end to my piece of shite post, go listen to 'Smile' by Lily Allen.

Cracking tune.

How y'all have a good day, ya' hear?

Lucy

xoxo

Erised Stra Ehr Oyt Ube Cafru On Wohsi

She pored into the rabbit hole and at what seemed like the bottom was a kaleidoscope. Her back arched forward as she attempted recklessly to get a better look. The exotic shades were so different to the beige and grey of her surrounding world; before she could yield it, she felt her body tumble forwards as she twisted and spiraled. After a while, she felt the sickening pull of Gravity‘s grasp as she was plunged into darkness. A blink... and there before her muddy green eyes was a utopia of sapphire streams and soft downy grass. The air was fresh and crisp, tasting like youth in her mouth. She began to stroll leisurely, arms wide ‘til she stumbled across a white hare carrying a copious pocket-watch...

If you could choose any wondrous escape you wanted, right at this very moment in time, what would it be? You‘ve seen mine, so fill me in on yours. Best comment receives a mention.

I‘m deeply sorry about the long delay between posts. Mocks are coming up and there are so many things on my mind, and to tie it all up, I betcha I‘ll be single for valentine‘s day. I‘d say yes to anyone‘s offers now. Mostly because I basically fancy everyone I know. Anywhoo, I had a breakdown this morning. I haven‘t had one in literal ages so it probably would‘ve happened sooner or later, but I really thought I was over all of that. All through first and second year, some mornings turned out wrong. I‘d be getting ready for school & I‘d look in the mirror and suddenly totally freak out. I‘d lock myself in the bathroom and sob and scream like a crazy person, hyperventilating. My dad had to talk to me through the door and coax me to open it. When I finally reluctantly opened it, they‘d stand there silent and just stare at me, and I‘d get that atrocious burning feeling that I get when people are being condescending or judgmental so I‘d shout at them to stop staring at me with my hands over my ears. The next stage was fetal position on the cold, tope tiles. BTW, if you're reading and judging, go away. Because I'm typing this out to make me happy.

Anyway, on those days, I'd always be late for school and people would ask me where the fuck I was and I‘d always have to lie, and their questions made me feel worse. Today, I kind of just felt everything in my head explode and I was doing all my usual things and I told mom everything I felt bad about, like not having the trig homework done for two weeks because I was too embarrassed to tell the teacher I didn‘t understand it because she's a bitch to me and stuff and all the other things and how I look and the self harm and everythinggggg. And there were 3 more tries of re-doing my make up and then I gave up and gulped down 3 cups of extra sugary tea and talked with mom and dad and we came to the compromise that today dad would go through trigonometry and pythagoras &tc at home instead of going to school. I feel a bit better though, shakey and anxious, but better. I know, I know, big deal out of nothing but it always gets to me a lot.

Dad googled me and found my twitter, my facebook, my plurk and, get this, Keeva‘s blog. He went all angry red coloured and then started questioning me about head shops and whether I state my address on websites. I learned a valuable lesson from it though; I need to adjust my privacy settings. That was last night, and it did contribute to my stress levels. Tonight when I was getting my laptop off mumsy, she asked what I was planning on doing. I was so tempted to go 'having lesbian cyber sex with women who are planning on leaving their husbands on facebook chat' but I didn't because that would be taken seriously by my chocolate-covered lemon of a mother. Oh well, no big deal after all, it's done and dusted etc.

OMG more 'drama'. I don't know, I don't really want to dwell or anything on the topic, so I'll just say that it's pretty fucking stupid to be making such a big deal about 'being two-faced' when a) you're practically three-faced, b) I‘ve done worse before and I hardly did anything and c) Haiti. There. Done. I feel better.

I think I'll end this post with an extract from a poem I read today in a book of my sister's. It's by Christina Rossetti, I hope you like it as much as I do:

 ________________________________

For if the darkness and corruption leave

A vestige of thoughts that I once had

Better by far that you should forget and smile

Than you should remember and be sad. 
________________________________

Comment please.

Lucy

xoxo

EDIT: mention if anyone in the comments figures out what the title is.

          and who clicked crapola? >.>

Love and Stuff.

Winter is slowly passing by. I can see it in the iridescent turquoise skies and feel it in the fresh, biting air. The sky is rich and creamy at eight in the morning instead of clouded and inky, and the grass is a pulsing emerald. The only sign left to happen is the budding of tiny new leaves from the currently sword-like, coal branches that embrace each and every tree. I love spring: the tiny birds chirping their welcome, the petite marshmallowy snow-drops like little, growing church bells, the whole world plunging itself into a technicolour paint bucket. It's an inspiring time of year for new beginnings & dying grudges; the year's exfoliation. With every season, it's a set change. Brand new experiences and images everywhere, new shades and tones, and different emotion is in the air. Spring is the time for love...and stuff.



Teachers are going into overdrive on the exam front. Homework homework revision homework. I should really stop complaining about school but jesus, it's only my junior cert and they act like it's a huge, profound indicator of my future. Ehm, tbh, if I end up doing religion studies or political studies, I'll kill myself. Speaking of which, I still haven't gotten to have my talk with the guidance councellor about my future. He canceled on Monday for Monday, re-scheduled for this morning but yesterday, I was informed he'd have to re-schedule for tomorrow. Will I everrrrr get to discuss my career and plans? I need some guidance(rofl). Moving on; I've been feeling so crap about myself lately. I've put on weight over Christmas and because of the state my back is in at the moment, I can't start aerobics or exercise. Seriously, I can't stop eating and my skin is breaking out and the more it happens, the more I need comfort food. I've been thinking of fasting. eating as little food as my parents will let me. I wasn't gorgeous before but now I'm just AGHH. Anytime I look in the mirror, I have to bite myself as a distraction. Hello, Mrs. Pretty-giving-overnight Fairy?



What's the deal with the delay in Haiti? It's been a week since the destroying, seven-second earthquake on the island and there still isn't enough aid going out there? In CSPE on Tuesday, Mr. Kennedy (substituting for the wicked witch Ms. McEnery) said that Haiti, being on the same geographical island as the Dominican Republic, was the first country of black slaves to rebel against the force controlling them, which was France. Ever since they 'had the cheek' to try to restore their freedom, they have been shunned by the surrounding area. It was the same with the natural disaster in New Orleans. New Orleans is populated mostly by African-Americans. No matter how much we deny it, America and a lot of other modern civilizations are incredibly conservative, and therefore racist. To get to my question, what fucking idiots hold a grudge from over 200 years ago, which stops them from helping people who experienced a disaster which could destroy their country? Comment.





Short post. Roight.
I must go because my back is causing my serious pain.
LUCY X

I wanna bathe you in the light of day...

The snow has died. It's clinging on for dear life in every nook, cranny and grey stained corner. But you know, the ice mistress is no match for the powerful, haunting grip of the rain king. I'm not so delighted at the recent return to normal weather, but I was getting totally fed up of all the snow. It was cold and icy and gave my 'rentals a reason to keep me inside and make me study. Speaking of study, I got my results back from the xmas tests. I did totally shit. I don't give a dog's bollock about the fucking christmas examinations, but the mocks are in 3 weeks time and I reeeaally gotta start working if I want to get better than D's. Encouragement, O Readers? Give me faith that mayhaps three weeks is enough to revise over three years. Oh yikes. It sounds dreadful. I've got 6 tests back so far. Let me give you a lowdown on what I got:

• English: 49% -Majorly disappointed with that result
• Irish: 57% - I thought that was pretty damn okay
• Geography: 48% - Disappointed again
• Maths: 25% - Failed, plus my parents freaked
• History: 81% - Vair unexpected, but I'm proud
• French: 74% - Expected but still proud

So y'all gotta give me something. Feedback on anything exam related. Your comments have been total crapola lately. Maybe it's because I'm an annoying hoe or something. Probably that of course. Does any other country have Christmas exams? I know that they have midterms? Do they have Summers? England have GCSE which are like our certs. Sigh, I am so confused. Let's just burn down all the schools do them all and get it over with.



Oh, yes, blog. I am a total Gleek. Unless you've been living under a Mexican convict's boat for the past year without internet connection, you'll have heard about Glee. Glee is a tv show that's kinda like someone poured vodka and red bull all over High School Musical. And I am obsessed. Utterly and totally. I've watched the first 3 episodes on 3e (Irish channel) and the others on Tv Shack. At the mo', it's my savior because I've been grounded for the weekend and they won't give me my motherfucking laptop (I'm on the apple now). Seriously, I talked about that disco for ages and getting my mojo back because a hot guy wanted to meet/snog me and now GRR they decided my exam results were bad enough to stop my happiness *melodramatic sigh*.

I've been writing this post for days. Seriously, I'm just epic fail. But my tiny little life is just the same everyday. I have gossip but anyone can access my blog and it's fucking risky. Also, btw, I know my blog sucks nuts. Fo' sho'. But it's my blog and you don't have to read it. *cough cough* Nicky. Why does all my posting lead back to me batting away criticism? Guess it comes with le territory. Blogs are outlets, so fark the haters. I mean, don't get me wrong, I love having followers, and getting comments and reading other people's blogs but in the end I have a blogger account for myself only. The people who care will follow and support and comment their opinions, good and bad. The people who don't care.. well I don't care. I'm sleepy.

We have to choose our senior cycle subjects before the end of the month. Parents went behind my back to try to put me in transition year, tonnes of respect for me there, eh? I'll just blow the interview. I have no clue what I want to do in the future. I suppose I wish I could be a Journalist like Veronica Guerin, a writer like George Orwell or a photographer like Ansel Adams. But they're dreams. In reality, I should do what the test told me: Keep my range between Ticket Checking and Check-out Worker. I really am clueless. I'm 14, and they're giving me a month to decide my future. Greeeat. Comment on that, I need some help.



I'd better go and put this rubbish-bin of a post to a close.
Ciao for now.
Lucy

(will sext for comments.. I JK btw *shifty eyes*)

Starbucks.

Here. A backing track for my unimportant whining >



It's still snowing. And it's annoying me a lot. I want all this horrible stuff to go away. What's the beauty in something that gives people pneumonia and causes road accidents? I was mesmerized at first, but jesus, it's just so frustrating now. Every time I stare out the window into the white abyss lying beyond, I just imagine a tall, thin, boney mistress; Twirling Earth in her hands, striking it with tough spindles of glass. Devouring us with porcelain teeth. Then, finally, she'll spit us back up for the honeymoon period of Spring, and then gradually fading out into the long, lazy days of Summer. The long lazy days of Summer filled with tears and broken hearts and new friends and cigarette smoke. And then back she comes again, swallowing us again, like some stretched out regurgitation period. My feelings are constantly changing about Winter. I'm not sure whether to run to her, arms wide open or to turn my back and ignore her, until she leaves. She's a faux ami. Perhaps I need one of those lightbox things. I've been crying way more than usual lately, and believe me, I cry a lot anyway. I need to grow up. Big girls don't cry, d'you know that?

Watched Glee. I'm totally in love with it. Honestly. I just want more, more, more. It's so sweet and I've only seen two episodes. Okay, this sounds weird, but when Finn jizzed in his pants when him and Rachel kissed, I was totally envious. Like, wow. I want someone who kisses. In my whole life, I've never once been properly kissed. It was always 'meeting'. I want someone to just kiss me; instead of playing fucking tonsil tennis. I'm such a brat, right? It's what your thinking about me. Naive little brat and when she finally finds teen romance, if she ever does or if it's even real, she'll throw it away. Of course I will. I'm a blooming idiot. But that's not my point. Back to my point. Well, if I ever found a person who makes me laugh, isn't embarrassed to be around me, and kisses like they mean it, I'd be all over them like cum on your mom. When I was a kid, I always imagined my first kiss so perfectly. Me and him, alone. Talking on a park bench or a wall. And then the conversation ends, and we just look at eachother. And then he runs his fingers along my jaw and kisses me, just a brush of our lips at first, but then leading on to real kissing. Like in Cinderella. *sigh* Stupid realism.

And Nicky is a soulless bastard who doesn't get my point. Am I crazy, seriously? I'm 14, I get it. But everyone else is around the same age and they've had some form of romance? Maybe I am just crazy and stupid. Well, farewell, off I go to listen to Death Cab For Cutie and talk to myself.

LUCY
XX
Comment?

Your lips touch every hand...

(click to enlarge, taken two days ago)


Snow and ice. It's everywhere. Today, in the cold, with the ethereal, gleaming cloak cracking beneath my feet, I thought about life and death. That tiny miniscule difference between them. One second and you're gone, words still in your mouth; your blood still warm. Snap of fingers. It's like Steve Irwin. Paramedics said that if he had left that stingray in his heart for one more second, he might have lived. I don't know if it's true (newspapers these days), but if it is, it's terrifying and brutal. Literally a moment in time can change everything. And then his brave daughter stepped in front of a crowd, told everyone of the strong man her father was. Wow. Being entirely honest, if my dad died and I was asked to speak in front of millions of people: I'd freeze. And cry and go home and crawl up with a blanket and just cry some more. I don't know what I'd do without my parents, even if they do hate me as much as they claim to. Even the thought is tear inducing. I feel so bad for orphans who never get that feeling of pure, untouched love that only a father or mother can bring. Imagine not having anyone to tuck you into bed at night when you're young, or someone to say you can do better after a break-up when you're not quite as young, or someone to chat about life when you're older. It's just constant winter for orphans. The cold front closing in 365.

On the bright side, I went out for dinner today. Miss Wong's fine chinese dining, can I getta what what? I finally had a reason to wear my sequinned gold dress. I wore it with: Black leggings, teal patent heels, and my purple cardigan. Straightened my hair, bud. I think I looked nice but the pictures I took state otherwise. Fat mess. Ahh. I need to start an exercise regime. If I weren't so bloody lazy. Laziness is like a disease. It grows and grows along with my tummy. Oh yes, and people called me a tramp today because I wear a skirt and the only pair of boots I have. A pair of tights, leggings over them, a gold (relatively short) tulip skirt, pointy-toed rubber platform boots and a hoodie and my coat. I used to think I didn't care and that I should take what I dish out, but today it really got to me. I always thought a tramp was someone who tried hard for others, but the only reason that I dress the way I do is because it makes me feel good about myself. In jeans, I look in the mirror and start bawling but in a skirt, I look nicer and my legs look longer. I don't know. I guess it's a self esteem thing. And my jeans were kinda dirty. Comment question: Am I a tramp? Be honest, crush my spirit. :P

Flyleaf, Lady Gaga and Michael Bublé albums are really good. AKA Memento Mori, The Fame Monster and Crazy Love. All the songs are stuck in my head. It's like total foot-tap mania. I highly recommend, song wise, the epic choonage of Alejandro - Lady Gaga, Chasm - Flyleaf, and Crazy Love - Micky Bubbles. It brightened my week, somehow. All the music. Ahh. Happy fun times.

I shall go, as I have nothing else to say.

LUCY
XX
Comment?
ILY

Another 10 years...

(pics of le 27th)

Okay, no post in ages because I had like 8 drafts and found them all boring etc. I waited for New Years Eve just to post about resolutions and my year being atrociously honest. That means I skip out on a couple of days where I went to McDonalds, went to the cinema and stayed at home. You miss so much, right? Anyway, down to the dirty job I suppose.

This year was a turn around. It opened my eyes to a lot of things, took my innocence, took some of my pride and ego. And there were times I thought I'd kill myself, times I felt like my heart was ripped to pieces. To sum it all up, it was an okay year. Even with all the negativity, I made it through relatively unharmed and more knowledgeable on a lot of things. I explored my sexuality more, met new people, saw Paramore live, and had so many amazing memories that make me smile each time I think them over.

Those times under the slides when it was lashing rain, the silly kissing games that my parents would be ashamed to see me take part in, the chewing gum that never left my mouth and the people who never left my side. I feel like I know exactly who I can trust right now, through error of course, and I know who will never tell secrets. It's nice having the security, y'know?

People hurt me, but I know I hurt people a lot more. I feel bad for everything I said this year and feel the need to put it all behind and dissolve grudges. It's never good to be angry for stupid reasons, and that's what I was most of the year. Most of the decade even. 2010 is going to be amazing, I can just feel it. After the Junior Cert, I'll properly get working. For my future.



Anyway, on to resolutions:

1. Stop word vomiting all the time
2. Get my sexual mojo back
3. Exercise more for general health
4. Drink water for my skin
5. Learn 'Smells like Teen Spirit' on guitar
6. Make amazing Alice costume for Burton's Premiere/Nom Con
7. Ignore people who try to start fights
8. Make a lot more friends
   

I get it, they're stupid, but we'll see if I change some etc.
It's 2am, 01/01/10
Lucy Bennett, signing off on a brand new decade.

LUCY
COMMENT
XX

Jolly Good Time, Eh?

(click to enlarge, as always, dudes)


Merry Christmas to you all.
Short post to show you some new pictures and make my present list:

• Nikon D40 - SLR Camera <3
• Navy and Cream Cardigan from New Look
• Dark Blonde Extensions from Sister/Claires
• Hairdryer
• Blonde Shampoo
• Nail Polish
• Bath bubble thingies
• Make Up Brushes
• T-Shirt w/ Girl on It
• Painting of French Couture Thingiemabobs
• €100 euro
• Big 'Mastering Digital Photography' Book

Good year. Am totally delighted but knackered and stuffed. Aunt Flo came to visit. Fuck you, Mother Nature. Will write proper loaaaads tomorrow.

LUCY
XXX
Comment with what Santy got you. (:

Sounded like an alarm of impending doom...

Light and dark. The beauty of each, in solitary and contrast. The pure white that floods every corner, the one you only notice when you're alone and concentrating on sweet nothings and nuggets of drama. The luscious, melting darkness that devours cities, soaks footpaths and swallows you whole, but is only terrifying when one is, again, alone. I think it's the same with people. When you're alone, you see the twisting, convulsing black that sweeps through their veins or the flowing silver rivers that rush and turn in their brain. People aren't perfect, but lately, I've seen that everybody tends towards a different side. Like swaying towards darkness or light. Minds just work differently. Some people thrive on being cruel, feeling dirty, being harsh. Others do those things, but feel terrible. I'm not necessarily saying that any of it's bad, but these angelic, creamy people often get walked all over, and the dark, sick people get hurt by their own actions and are left empty. It's about comfort though. If you're happy in the present with what you are, so be it. It's you and there'll always be someone who agrees, even if they pretend they don't. Unleash your demon or delight.



Yesterday changed the Christmas. There was this one thing that shook me up a bit and it felt like I'd been kicked really hard in the stomach, and even now when I've woken up, the feeling's not gone. For a while, I honestly felt like dying. Like taking my own life. Perhaps I was just incredibly hormonal and fuelled by the 'one thing' but I took it as an option. It scared me, because I felt this exact way last Christmas, and the one before. This Christmas was supposed to be perfect. Even if I haven't achieved my inner goal of having a boyfriend, I brushed it aside. I was going to ignore everything that could make me upset. Too late now. This is going to be on my mind the whole holidays, I can feel it. Maybe it'll stop me from eating and my ass will stop expanding like a balloon at a helium convention. And then there was another misunderstanding which was quite funny to me, because me, Ash and Jem left these... interesting tags on some girl's facebook pictures thinking you couldn't see who wrote tags. Blonde moment, you can. And then the girl and her friend start calling us sad. It brightened my morning reading those comments, really, because she has done so many sad things and made me and close friends miserable loads of times.


(Tessa's new video to get you in festive spirit. Meekakitty <3)

I am probably being forced to mass tomorrow morning. Which is the suxxor. I shall stage a protest and just lie in bed after I've opened all of mes cadeaux. I don't believe in God or Jesus for the time being so why should I be forced into celebration of a sham? Stupidity. Grandparents coming today. Oh sweet joy. I love Granny Kate, she is just soo nice. But Granny Whatsherface is just a pain in the ass. Yes, yes, I'm horrible, she's my granny. But she's one of those people that you know and hate because they're stuck up and cruel and way too nosy and arrogant and pass remarkable. Just because you're related to someone doesn't mean you have to put up with all their shit. Grandad John is lovely though, he likes gardening and BBC. How he could marry such a witch, I don't know. I will just put all my attention on the nice grandparents. Ohmigoddd, this last paragraph made me sound like such a cow. I'm sorry to anyone I've offended etc. Not a good month for blogs, I must say. Not a good month for Lucy's self esteem. Touché, l'Esteem Self, touché. >.>

I shall go now.
Follow me on Twitter if you don't already:
Lucy/paintburst
COMMENTTTTT.
Lucy
xxx

Birds in my ear, and a devil on my shoulder...

I haven't blogged in way too long. Unbelievably even. I've even lost a follower. COME BACK! I have been so busy/stressed/paranoid lately though with tests and friends and town and reading and Super Mario Bros studying. Today though, the tests are over and no school till the 7th of January 2010. I can't believe it's almost a new year already. First Christmas, yeah, whatever. But then it's my new start. Big woo. This time last year I was either in surgery or totally unconscious in I.C.U (and I just wanna dance with you). It's a leap. I feel like there's still a part of me in that operation, even though it's been a full year. Anytime I think about it, I burst into tears uncontrollably and it takes me a cup of tea and 8 choccy biscuits to calm down. I guess I should be glad to put it behind me and go on living like it never happened, and pretend I can't see the hideous scar. Dramatic Sigh. Christmas, Christmas, Christmas. I feel so festive singing along to Wham's 'Last Christmas' not Cascada's shitty cover and drinking hot chocolate and wearing... scarves and staring at twinkly lights and falling over wires because I was too busy staring at the twinkly lights.



I can't wait for my camera. AHHHHH. It's like the Christmas Eve excitement factor but I have it 2 days early. Nobody will stay in and watch Love Actually tomorrow. Will brave cold winds with proudly-worn Panda hat and warm jeans and coat and shit. Am listening to Nickasaur. Rocketships and Radios is total utter crap but it's always in my head. If a guy said those things about me, I swear I would squee for hours and give him my proverbial virginity. Still searching for Prince Charming. I should probably be more proactive and flirty etc but I cannot be arsed, tbqf. The bloody effort. I have lost my mojo. It's goneee. Come back mojo. I haven't gone out with someone since bloody September. I haven't even fancied anyone since then. Come along on thou's noble steed and I shall ride along with you/on you. Eugh, whore comment. Dear prostitute-brain, please cleanse yourself, signed Mr. Conscience. Anyone normal reading this blog would think I'm a crack addict. Listening to All American Rejects. Some of their songs are depressing. I might as well go hang myself. BTW, readers, that was a tasteless satirical joke on myself. Which made no sense.

Does everyone get jealous? Feel the burning at the back of their throat, the furrowing of their brow, the strong need to insult this 'other person' 24/7 or to shoot them down. Being blind to things you do that are similiar and insulting insulting insulting. I feel so evil when I'm jealous, and homocidal. Like if I had a rifle, I'd perform another Columbine Massacre. Stabby rip stab stab. Even as I write, I have this kind of ripping-tummy thing going on, like I'm nauseous and pregnant with knives or something. My mind's all twisted. I can hear the festive fumblings from downstairs. Someone pushing the tree, someone making coffee, someone placing presents. And I'm up here alone, bathing with the green monster. I'm jealous of EVERYONE lately. I fail, I fail and this blog was crapola bars. I may as well go.

LUCY
XX
COMMENT

http://moshime.com/justsayyes

The Curtains Are Twitchin'

That white light. The one that wakes me, the one that dances upon my desk. The white light that gleams through the gaps of the venetians. Knowing that there are possible hundreds of people experiencing that white light every morning does not make it any less special. It just makes it more magic. It makes me smile. First smile of the day, sometimes the only smile of the day. That one fragment brightens my mood. It's something about the way it looks. It looks like hope and belief and all those childhood fairytales shooting through the folds. Like some crack occured in the big red-brick wall of reality and fantasy. It makes me think and treasure. Maybe we don't have to be serious all the time. Maybe we can lose ourselves in 'mights' and 'maybes' for a moment. If you block out that tiny four year old who believed in fairies and Santa, you'll go insane. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. Getting on high on life doesn't make you a stoner, it just means you're not an annoying realist bitch.



Paramore last night at the O2. Motherfucking awesome. Like, unbelievably. We queued for four and a half hours, and people had travelled from Donegal, which is a six hour journey and then queued for 8 hours. I made some friends in that queue, exchanged numbers, made your mom jokes, got people to sing 'happy birthday' to Ash even though it was nowhere near her birthday. Singalongs of Misery Business and Ignorance. Freezzzinng, but I bagged a cig off some fella. And a light, obviously, otherwise it would be quiet pointless. Talked to this pretty blonde with astonishing eye make-up about her smoking weed in her garage. Beat some tall fittie at your mom jokes, then got a high five from him. Saw my tagged friend, Alex. Saw that Stitch bebo-fame kid. And he was the weirdest because he was wearing loads of foundation and judging by his bebo pics, FUCKLOADS of photoshop. And then these really nice people from Donegal gave us Haribo and she had a massive leopard print bow and he was camp and had an uncle in Celbridge. They pushed us all back in the queue three times even though people who'd only been there for an hour were at the front. Finally at 6.30, we were let in and omigod, I had this rush of adrenaline and we ran for the pit. I had this dare to meet a randomer or I had to meet Gareth Ronan as the forfeit, so I snogged this totally beautiful guy and then after went back for his number. We were like OMG LUCY'S LOVE LIFE WENT RIGHT but then he was from Mayo and that was major disappointment factor.



Now Now Every Children [pictured] played first, we ended up in a crowd of Celbridgians mates and mate's mates. NNEC were amazing. New found obsession. Sarah commented down there about them and I was like 'psshhh, they probably won't be that good' but wow. I still thought Paramore were better, but they have more experience too. Bought Cars, the album from Now, Now Every Children at the merchandise stand for a fiver at the Support Band interlude. Then I went off for a piss and missed the start of Paper Route, but I didn't really like them. FINALLLYYYY, YMA6 came on and the crowd went berserk. It was like a massive surge forward and everyone was jumping like loonatics. They played The Consequence from the new album out in January and then a pile of songs from Take Off Your Colours and some from their demo which surprised me. MMMM... Max looks adorable in person. After a break and a backdrop change, Paramore took the stage. Seriously, Hayley is teensy weensy. Like a hamster. And she jumped around like a retarded squirrel. She sounded kinda like a chipmunk too. Damn, she's just a small mammal altogether but she gave a great performance and it's kinda her character I guess. Josh was positively amazing, although he wasn't very connected to the audience.



Half way through the show, me and Missa took our shirts off and were just bobbing around in our bras. Too shmad like. Hayley welcomed us all to the family, which was undoubtedly a crowd-pleaser as it caused this insane uproar. They played Emergency and Crush Crush Crush, which were the second and third best songs of the set. And thennnnn after faking leaving the stage, they came back for an encore with Ireland jerseys and soccer balls for Misery Business and then Brick by Boring Brick with all the support bands [except YMA6, which I thought was pretty odd] jumping around. They then bid us adieu and ran off stage, leaving a high-decibel crowd behind in ecstasy. Okay, I admit, it obviously wouldn't have been everyone's cup of tea, but I thoroughly enjoyed it. When we originally got into town, me and Missa went on the ferris wheel and took pictures and talked to these Paramore-goers in the booth behind us. I took this one picture of the city that came out great, so I'mma put it up for y'all to see up there.



New phone on Friday because of an incident on Wednesday including me being stranded at a bus stop miles from where I live when it was dark, raining and late. It's the LG KS360, qwerty keyboard, fm radio, mp3 radio, 2mp camera with some nice exposure for a phone cam. I'm in love with it. Free twitter and texts. And it's so easy to do both with the keyboard. This morning I loaded it up with Feist, Bombay Bicycle Club, The Kooks, Bowie, Tegan and Sara and Now, Now Every Children. So it's the ultimate Lucy-device. I just read over this post and realized how annoying it is because I basically recorded the concert. Okay, skip that bit if you want. And just come down here or something? Well, I have to go off and study for six hours. Stupid christmas tests and education. I'd prefer to live uneducated.

Lucy
XX
COMMENNNTTTT

You don't have to worry, 'cause we're still the same band...

Hola, amigos.

Que-que-que-que paaahsa? (You just gotta know that song)...
Today was just that same key as always. Typico Monday where I spent the night before crying/doing homework/msning and wake up late and greasy and just smooth on some concealer and then my fringe is all horrible and stringy so I shove it back and walk around with my horrible bumpy forehead on display. Sexy, aight? Sooo, then I got this major lecture from my Irish teacher. I was going to stand up and tell her everything I ever thought of her, the stupid bitch, and it would've been worth the suspension. But of course, I pussied out. The times I actually should pussy out, I never do; Stupid hillbilly brain. I could be smart if it weren't so backwards. >.> Spent my weekend being lazy. Saturday went Dublin City for the first time with actual parental permissones. Saw Paranormal Activity [read below] and then went Penneys and bought mango shtuff for Kris-kindle. Bus home we drew funny pictures in the windows of people we know or dislike and I listened in on this couple beside us when Ash and Jemma musicked themselves up. They were talking about skinny-dipping and bra sizes and bulimic men. Quite amusing, what you hear on buses. I came home pretty damn early because dad was going on the lash and I had to take care of sister dearest. We watched HP & THBP. Which is one of favourite movies now because A) iz awesome and B) iz movie that I went to see when I went out with Danster fer first time. :3





Paranormal Activity is total and utter shit. I swear, I was either crying with boredom or from laughter, but not because I was scared. I admit, I did yelp once but that was because I was trying to decipher the chinese meal that Katie and Micah Sloane were eating and then 'RAWWH LOUD NOISE'. So I was just in shock. All they did was drink coffee, turn the cam off for sex, see a shadow, their door slammed, see a shadow, drink coffee, hear a noise, follow footsteps, see a shadow, be possessed, kill your husband, run away then put an FBI type message at the end telling the public that is was a work of fiction, because nobody wants a Blair Witch Project fiasco again. If I knew I'd be watching something that bad, I'd have never paid for it and gone off and watched Nativity instead which is what I was meant to see. Sad face because Nightmare Before Xmas 3D wasn't put in cinemas again this year. They had it for like 3 years in a row. I'd much prefer to see a classic Tim Burton than an incredibly low-budget demon-possession movie. And they make you think the demons after her, when really it's after him the whole time. Futt that shick, I highly recommend you not to waste your valuable time watching that.





I have this crazy insatiable urge to lose my virginity lately. Call me crazy, but I don't even care if it's with someone who 'respects me' anymore. It's like when you're 6 and somebody has the new Bratz shoes and their describing them and you're sitting in awe as they describe animatedly how it's the best thing since sliced bread. I'll fuck someone while they're drunk. Nobody fancies me so, ehm, only way anyway. Because I want my sliced bread. AHA just there Orphan finished downloading. Will watch with somebody soon. I don't watch horrors alone. It just makes me more miserable. Maybe I have S.A.D or something, but I've been feeling so down lately. Not shallow down but 'why do I have a life when there are hundreds of possible prodigy children dying in 3rd world countries?' down. It makes me think too hard, like when Lizzy gets the letter from Darcy in Pride & Prejudice. She is forced to think about who she is and how she is, her flaws and her inevitable mistakes. And after it, she sees real goodness. Genuineness, honesty, reality, trust. This year was my personal Darcy-Letter. I used to be shallow, proud. But now I don't care what people look like. It's how people are that I consider. I'm not a good person, but I'm a damn good judge.



Christmas in approx. 18 days. Woo woo, much. Am addicted to candy canes. Mother decided to buy me and my sis €2 boxes of 12 candy canes for our mates, and jesus, I'm already down to 7. Nom nom nom. The colours make me feel all festive. Attempting to do homework. Fail. I'm doing some French letter thing using online translators. Translators ftw. At the same time, am listening to 'creepy' space noises for Naddiesaurus. I have a feeling it's actually a screamer but there are only 30 seconds of it left. Okay, no, Jupiter literally just whirrs and swissshess. Fun times, eh? BTW, you lame people, one comment. Thanks much? That is just... grr. Y'all are Scrooges during Christmas, right? Don't be so stingy, spread the holiday cheer. I feel a mission coming on... >:]
- Reader's Mission 07-12-09:

• Comment Question of the Day (lolz, I feel like Shane Dawson or Michael Buckley) is what is your favourite part/thing about Christmas?
  
• Comment on at least 3 blogs today [and you can include mine, btw :3]

So, go complete your mission, oh lovely things. May not blog for another few days so comments build up or something. Love you guyssss.

LUCY
XX
COMMENTTTT


[ps. yes, I have been using smileys/retard speak/not very profound expressions but I'll stop when I don't need to cheer myself up...]

Hammers fall on all the pieces...

Good morning, Mr. WWW.
It is 8.47am. It's a Saturday morning, but it feels like a Sunday. I have to finish off my homework, but sod it, I would stop half way through a snog with Colin Farrell to blog. Hang on, I just lied. Sorry, but can you truly blame me? AAAAnyway, yesterday was fun. Made cookie monster cupcakes which were big hit. Nomnomnom. They were slightly more lilac than blue because I ran out of food colouring but meh. I forced Jemma and Ashling into going. They went but moped around all emo. You know how ironic it is to go 'I'm bored' in a room full of people? I bet those African children never say that (>.>). Over on Naomi's site, she posted Harry Potter when all the parts that said wand were now changed to willy. I swear I basically PMSL. It was taken from Facebook, the land of Pirate English and those weird secret quiz things that everyone answers a little toooo truthfully and then you pay your 50 coins and read their answers and it's like... 'Ehm, thanks, I'ma Go Die.' ( Harry Potter's Wand/Willy )







Got a snog last night. T'woo T'woo. Second year, but oh well. And then there was something that someone should've told me considering that someone told me something they should've told me last weekend. I feel so betrayed or something when people do that. And the topic itself upset me. Ahhh. This all sucks. Sad face. Ever get that feeling of nausea when you think of something that
upset you? When I went home, I felt like I needed to puke all over the place. I still do. And it's not like a stomach bug or anything, I know for a fact it's because of the thing. 'You treat me just like another stranger'; Speaking of Paramore, next Saturday at the o2. Something to look forward to and something to distract me and Missa. And then it's Christmas tests, then Mocks, then Junior Cert, then Christmas tests again, then Summer tests, then Christmas tests then Mocks then Leaving Cert, then college, then family then dead. Holy shit, my days are numbered at 14.







I walked around that room, smelling musky like stale B.O. and salt, the wooden floors spreading the expanse. The barred windows remarkably like a prison, the poker table set up. The stacks at the back like warehouse stock. But it's the people who catch my eye. They're all the same. The wemos with their weird hair and try-too-hard make-up, in stripey clothes and fat skinny jeans. The wannabes in their jeans, uggs and long sleeved tops, occasionally topped off with a scarf of some sort. The Guitar Dorks jamming away in the dark corner, wearing leather jackets or dress shirts. There are the people that nobody can name, in their normal clothes or Criminal Damage hoodies (at least the Dunnes Stores version). And then there's me, Jemma, Ashling and the rest of the guys. Guys don't tend to bunch off as much; It must be like 'Yo, you have a penis too!' and then they're all happy clappy no bitch zone. I was wearing my white t-shirt, my black high waisted puffball skirt with the white polkadots, my honey-coloured tights, my black patent heels. Jemma was wearing her signature emo hoodie-and-jeans combo. Ashling in her normal people clothes. Both still look better than everyone at youth club. It's as if they don't even try. I love you guys.




(I usually hate Trashley and Hairy-Kate but I like this pic. :P)



On a little social note, Gino is king of the Jungle! I would've preferred Justin to win but he was gone and damn, Gino D'accampo is like 'TAP THAT ALL OVER THE FLO'. Yayyy, Gino. I'd also like to thank someone this week, and she has already mentioned me in her latest blog but anyway....
Ahem...
I would like to thank Merissa George Genesis Cullen for being here for me. The phone calls, the movie days, the lesbian sex good clean fun. You have to be the best friend anyone could have. Beautiful, kind, funny, a listener and a talker. You are awesome-squared. I love chuuu, babes. Seal for Christmas, but we'll get a muzzle so it doesn't eat Tesco. Lulz.

Testing..
Major Tom,
Over and out.
LUCY
XX
(comment pleeease)

Short post, kk, my badddd.

I have spent a week not blogging apparently. Sorry for lull, I was made blog-redundant by my f-izzle-ather. Apparently, nicking his iphone in the middle of the night to talk to peeps on Bebo is bad behaviour. Lolz @ his sillyness. Not much has happened. Habit caught by parents, they grr'd at me then realized that it only made the problem worse. Was told to shape up or ship out of Honours maths, so I decided 'shape up' because I can be smart if I please, I'm just uber lazy. Merissa and Chris broke up. Efa and Breda are still together. Laura broke up with Tom. Spent Sunday with Missa, taking 37 pictures, watching Not Another Teen Movie and eating. Saturday, was forced into town with cousin. I felt showed up by her. She's all gorgeous and clear-skinned and brown haired and slim and D-Cupped. I was like 'KTHXIMAGODIE' and any time I turned my back, mummy dearest bitched about me to my cousin. Helloooo, ever hear of common ethics? It also meant I didn't get to say goodbye to Danny. Listening to Lenka. Mmmm, pretty singing.





Ever feel things slipping through your fingers? Like your grasping and tugging but they're falling through the cracks. Like all your dreams are melting. Over-dramatized but still. I used to care so much about people but they're fading like pencil, like all those promises are becoming quieter and quieter 'til they vanish. All the friendships. It's like Paramore: 'We were friends who stuck together, we wrote our names in blood...'. I miss being little and ignorant. Deaf to the insults, blind to the differences. We were all just kids. Okay, okay, I admit being a little put off by the one in the corner who smelled funny or the one with the wonky eyes, but all in all it was a great time. Now it's all superficial. I notice that when I wear my contacts to school and wash my hair, people go gaga over talking to me. When I'm greasy and glasses-ed, people laugh or talk about me behind my back. It's horrible, really. Shallow, shallow, shallow. And the way I dress does not make me a slut. >.> I just like looking skinnier than I am, kk? AHH. Pssh. I don't feel like blogging so this will most likely be fail. 6 comments. Not too shabby, but ehhrrrmm 58 followers. So that means 52 of you lazy sods aren't doing anything.

I feel the need to go. Cinderucy shall post tomorrow night.

Comment, Jizz, Bath towels.
LUCY
XX