Wednesday, May 5, 2010

new life plan.

who the fuck do you think you are?

ruining my plan for happy.

new life plan.

fly to uk, experience dub step, not change clothes for 2 days, buy some docs, shave my hair some more.

get lots of sexy boys on coke, get them to say dirty english things to me, something cute like 'spank me'. smoke rolled cigarettes. then find some schmooze with tattoos and smoke all day in his bedroom, while he talks about his rock star band and takes nudie pictures of me, with a cigarette in his mouth.

something dirty and british.

please sir, can i have some more?


i miss skins. i havent had the chance to emerse myself in the tragedy and corruption of British teens, due to causing my own typical life dramas.

plus i should be studying.

plus my brother keeps hiring the office.

my favourite characters from skins are chris, cassie and effie.

no doubt their boundaryless fucked up state entices me to no end, i can relate with the isolatation, the journey and the endless mental ups and downs.

------Kaya Scodelario-----

beautiful beyond doubt.
--------hannah murray-------

-----------life, what is it?---------

everyday, begins the same.

a fresh page, ready to be written.full of hope and full of dreams

a chance to be in control.

i feel as if this broken sky, once full of dreams is now forgotten. a hard decision, a sacrifice, perhaps a way to change it.

where did those visions, full of beauty disappear too? skirts of tulle, shoes with sparkles, a dimple followed with a smile.

now replaced with broken souls, a shaking girl with holes in her stocking and bigger holes in her heart.

her make up runs, all over her face, the tears... they really fucked her.

she holds herself up, and stares life down, a subtle game of chicken.

with pins the length of long long ladders and legs sitting slightly ajar.

an open gap, a search for freedom, a desperate attempt to control ones life.

a string of boys, a line of coke, a trashy kingdom come.

its not the different from the hollywood screens, although in this play no one seems to come.

there is no credit, no well thought shot, no script to keep us moving. just moments in time, hollow endings, and the hope that its almost over.

One day my friend we'll ride away on a slender horse, the kinda of stuff dreams are made of. Until then, we'll hide away in the darkness of the moon's shadows.

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