It's 5;30am. At the moment the quest for sleep seems to be a never-ending struggle. Most of the time I dont mind. Sometimes I don't even want to sleep. There's just so many more productive things I could be doing with my life. Right now just happens not to be one of those times. Sometimes I wish time would just stand still so that I can just sit back and take everything in. Even for a moment. Sometimes I want time to stop altogether. Just to stop being. Not to die, but just to fade away. It's times like these where I want to sleep. Just put my weary head down and rest forvever. There's no feeling more frustrating than not being able to.
Today has been a day for long drawn out conversations. Today my two friends and I discussed religion and what it means to us. It's funny how when you meet new people from across the world they can have the same beliefs and ideas that you do, even when you have a completely different upbringing and background. It's also funny when you find out people you've known for years have a completely diffrent view. I was brought up at a Christian school, and although neither of my parents were religious I would take myself to church every Sunday. It was nice to have something to believe in, a group of people to belong to.
Another thing which intrigues me is how your beliefs change as you grow older. With time, I wouldn't say I have grown skeptical, but through my adolescent years I did pull away from my beliefs. I don't believe in a God per-say, but what I DO believe is that there is a higher being, a reason for our existence, and I also believe there is some form of after-life, be it reincarnation or another plane of existence. I find it hard to believe that we weren't made for some reason, that we were just blinked into existence, and that when we die that's it, and you're gone. I just find it very difficult to comprehend, however fantastical my ideas may seem.
I just finished watching a film an hour ago. A film where one of the most beautiful young women I have ever seen is dying of cancer, and her extremely handsome husband (who just so happens to be a doctor) is fighting to find a cure to keep her by his side forever. The dying wife, writes a story, which kind of acts as a side-story to the plot of the film, in which two warring countries are searching for the Tree of Life, which they believe (as Genesis depicts) was hidden by God after original sin. The Queen (played by the dying wife) of one of the countries sends her lover (the husband) to find it, so that they can live forever side by side.
Whilst watching the film my friend said to me that you can live forever through music, through art, through having children, through leaving things that make your mark on the world. But after time these things will diminish, new songs will be sung, new pictures will be painted, new children will be born. So what is the never-ending struggle for eternal life? Why are people so reluctant to give in to the inevitable?
I won't give away the ending, as I would highly recommend people to watch this film, but it really got me thinking about death, call me morbid, but it's something I think about a lot. In depth. I always thought that when my time comes I would welcome it. I'm not scared of dying, and I say it sincerely. I'm not afraid. I would like to live for a while, but if it came to it I would not leave kicking and screaming. I've always thought whatever happens, just happens, and I'm OK with it.
In little over three weeks I leave for home. I've been here almost three months, acheived very little and yet I am content with that, because I have a head full of experiences that I will never forget, and friends that I hope to keep in contact with forever. Forever though, is a very long time. In my life I have left a lot of people behind, people I miss, people I don't. I currently do not know of anyone I ever wish to forget. Right now is one of those times I wish to stand still. So I can take in all of their faces, every little word they say to me, all their little imperfections, all the small things that make them who they are. Because who knows when I'll see them next? Or if I'll see them again - we're not going to live forever.
It's 6:20am. No rest for the wicked...
Saturday, 15 September 2007
Friday, 17 August 2007
16/08/2007
So as you may have guessed, it is with deep regret for myself to announce that two members of Dirty Cherry have gone their separate ways, thus leaving Sugar and myself to seek other options. I cannot say that I'm disappointed, because to me it's been a long time coming. When a group of people do not mesh well together you can all feel it, do your best to cover it up, but the outcome is inevitable. Although we will endeavor to find replacement musicians, we feel it is best to put the band on hiatus for a while, and to go at it with fresh eyes upon our return to London in October
Sunday, 15 July 2007
15/07/2007
So I left the UK on Tuesday. To say the journey was eventful is a giant understatement. The first plane we took was from Gatwick to Philadelphia. After an eight hour flight and much disturbed sleep, we made it to the international visitiors desk, and after being separated for about half hour, and missing our flight Karin and I were reunited at the customs desk. I have to say the police in Philly were very through, you've got to give them that. After raping our luggage and interrogating us they sent us on our way without even an apology. Although there was a little ray of light when we got to the departure lounge and it turned out we hadn't missed our next flight - it had been delayed by four hours. So after a nice long wait and some lovely chinese chicken that resembled a cat, we finally got onto a flight to Vegas - where we had to wait five more hours for the next connecting flight to LA. After 33 hours of cross-Atlantic travel I can quite easily say I was knackered.
So after a day of catching up on sleep and lazing in the pool in an inflatable pirae ship, we then had the four hour drive up to Las Vegas. We stayed at a hotel called Treasure Island, where a JD and coke at the bar will cost you $7.50, and is served by a silver fox with a southern accent. "You probably get this all the time but yo look fifteen" - Yeah. Cheers. So anway, after polishing off two bottled of champagne, uncounted glasses of JD, going for a nice wander at 7am, coming back to the hotel room, getting in the tub half clothed, and tactically emptying the cotents of my stomach, I found a nice nestling place on the bathroom floor where I had a lovely sleep wrapped in a towel. I can safely say I love Vegas.
Now back in Orange County, I feel so relaxed and content for about the first time in months and I can't help but wonder what I'd be doing right now if I'd stayed in London. Probably would have taken the Music supervisor job. Or be sat at home thinking of a way of getting out of it. God bless America
So after a day of catching up on sleep and lazing in the pool in an inflatable pirae ship, we then had the four hour drive up to Las Vegas. We stayed at a hotel called Treasure Island, where a JD and coke at the bar will cost you $7.50, and is served by a silver fox with a southern accent. "You probably get this all the time but yo look fifteen" - Yeah. Cheers. So anway, after polishing off two bottled of champagne, uncounted glasses of JD, going for a nice wander at 7am, coming back to the hotel room, getting in the tub half clothed, and tactically emptying the cotents of my stomach, I found a nice nestling place on the bathroom floor where I had a lovely sleep wrapped in a towel. I can safely say I love Vegas.
Now back in Orange County, I feel so relaxed and content for about the first time in months and I can't help but wonder what I'd be doing right now if I'd stayed in London. Probably would have taken the Music supervisor job. Or be sat at home thinking of a way of getting out of it. God bless America
Friday, 22 June 2007
I had THE weirdest dream last night
Basically I lived in a community, that lived in a field in tents (kind of like Download only without music), and at the side of this field was this big mansion where we would all commune in the evenings, and I lived with people that I hardly see or have never even met, although I do remember Karin being in the first part of the dream, and running with me
The first part of the dream didn't really freak me out, but well let's just say there were tigers and I had to run into the mansion to stop them from mauling me in my tent at night
But the main bit that freaked me out was the fact that every day at a different time, I would randomly pass out and wake up in this warehouse, because some guy who I work with (in real life) had kidnapped me somehow, and I would have to do a task to get out. It was like a cross between Pat Sharp's Fun House and the movie Saw. I couldn't look at my colleague straight today...
Like in this one instance I was in said warehouse and along the side walls there was like little houses and shops, and a big water mill at the back and every so often this cloudy bluey green water would come flowing out at me and settle, then come rushing out again, and I would be struggling and choking on the water. And I could hear his voice telling me I had to escape, but it just made me struggle even more
I'm not too sure about how I got out of that. I must have done somehow though, because the last thing about the dream I remember was trying to re-dye my hair, and the brown layer turning blond, and the blond layer turning brown, and then there being a ginger layer in between the two so I looked like a tiger. I was looking in this mirror trying to smooth this bucket of dye through my hair and crying because it was all going wrong. And then I ran into my bedroom, and my bath was where my bed should be, then I was frantically trying to empty my bath of toys and bras and stuff, so I could get the dye out of hair quickly
I have to say it's up there with the weirdest dreams I've ever had. I wish it I knew what it meant. And don't suggest that it means I'm crazy because that's pretty much a given!!
The first part of the dream didn't really freak me out, but well let's just say there were tigers and I had to run into the mansion to stop them from mauling me in my tent at night
But the main bit that freaked me out was the fact that every day at a different time, I would randomly pass out and wake up in this warehouse, because some guy who I work with (in real life) had kidnapped me somehow, and I would have to do a task to get out. It was like a cross between Pat Sharp's Fun House and the movie Saw. I couldn't look at my colleague straight today...
Like in this one instance I was in said warehouse and along the side walls there was like little houses and shops, and a big water mill at the back and every so often this cloudy bluey green water would come flowing out at me and settle, then come rushing out again, and I would be struggling and choking on the water. And I could hear his voice telling me I had to escape, but it just made me struggle even more
I'm not too sure about how I got out of that. I must have done somehow though, because the last thing about the dream I remember was trying to re-dye my hair, and the brown layer turning blond, and the blond layer turning brown, and then there being a ginger layer in between the two so I looked like a tiger. I was looking in this mirror trying to smooth this bucket of dye through my hair and crying because it was all going wrong. And then I ran into my bedroom, and my bath was where my bed should be, then I was frantically trying to empty my bath of toys and bras and stuff, so I could get the dye out of hair quickly
I have to say it's up there with the weirdest dreams I've ever had. I wish it I knew what it meant. And don't suggest that it means I'm crazy because that's pretty much a given!!
Saturday, 2 June 2007
Fuck it all in the arse
As each day passes I get the increasing feeling that nobody actually gives a fuck about anyone except themselves, and that perhaps I let people walk over me a little too much. I'm always the first to lend a shoulder to cry on, a fiver to the person in need, an ear for the general complaints. But I'm noticing more and more that this is not as reciprocated as I always thought it was.
I have to just clear things up first. My girls are not included in this. They are my rocks, and without them I would be surely lost. And even though I tend not to ask for the shoulder, the fiver, the ear, I know it would be there if I ever did need/want it.
Unfortunately I perhaps have been a little too generous, and my resources are becoming more and more limited. Not only is it tiresome always being there for everybody, but I have no evidence to show that other people would do the same for me. Even with people I have never met, I seem to care about them, which is absolute bullshit. A point which is becoming evermore clear with every passing second.
I can't seem to decide whether it is other people who have changed, becoming more demanding with their little problems and peeves, or whether it is I, maybe becoming more wise to the ulterior motives and duplicity - or maybe I'm just becoming more cynical with age. It's impossible to tell, and improbable that I will ever know.
This past week has pointed out to me more than ever that there is nothing left for me here. Every few years I go through a phase. Maybe it's boredom, I can't be sure, but I get the urge to change every little thing in my life. I change my hair, my job, it even goes as far as my circle of friends. Unfortunately all of these changes have already been made within the last year and there is nowhere left for me to run. Which is essentially what it all boils down to. Escapism.
The only word I can use to describe my life right now is stale. I open my eyes in the morning, same room. I walk out my front door, same council estate. I go to work, same dead end job. I go out at night, same old assholes frequenting the same old bars drinking the same old whiskey, playing the same old music. I come home drunk, the fight to get my key in the front door, search for the landing light, the old lumpy bed. I could go on and on and on, just like every other damn thing that ceases to change in my life.
I plan to run away. Start afresh. New sights, new smells, new people. My only fear right now is what if those too become stale. Then what do I have left? Come back to my past stale life, stay in the present stale life, or keep running, in the hope that I finally end up somewhere right for me.
So back to my original point. I made a decision this evening. After taking a sip from the same old Jack Daniels, and sitting by the same old phone, waiting for the same old friends (who manage to let me down every time no matter how much I bust my ass to keep them happy) - the same old disappointment. I decided to fuck it all. Why should I always put my neck on the line to make sure that everyone else is happy, when no other fucker can bother their arse for me? I always have this front, this bravado, this act like I don't give a fuck. Maybe I don't care. Maybe I care too much. Yet another thing I can never be sure of.
Kears once said to me that most writers have a fear of leaving their work unconcluded, and that I have a tendency to leave my work in it's unfinished state. I agree to a certain extent. But I also disagree. In this world I really find it hard to be certain of anything at all. You never know what is going to happen from day to day. So maybe my disconlcusion, is actually a conclusion in disguise. My lack of being able to finish things off, is simply just because I don't believe you can ever conclude anything. It's like the eternal search for happiness. When you finally achieve true happiness, what have you left to strive for? What have you got left to work towards when you've achieved all your goals? (and yes I do realise I may have just made a few words up there, but fuck that too).
If only I could figure out what it is I am striving for in the first place, then I'd perhaps know where it is I am heading.
I have to just clear things up first. My girls are not included in this. They are my rocks, and without them I would be surely lost. And even though I tend not to ask for the shoulder, the fiver, the ear, I know it would be there if I ever did need/want it.
Unfortunately I perhaps have been a little too generous, and my resources are becoming more and more limited. Not only is it tiresome always being there for everybody, but I have no evidence to show that other people would do the same for me. Even with people I have never met, I seem to care about them, which is absolute bullshit. A point which is becoming evermore clear with every passing second.
I can't seem to decide whether it is other people who have changed, becoming more demanding with their little problems and peeves, or whether it is I, maybe becoming more wise to the ulterior motives and duplicity - or maybe I'm just becoming more cynical with age. It's impossible to tell, and improbable that I will ever know.
This past week has pointed out to me more than ever that there is nothing left for me here. Every few years I go through a phase. Maybe it's boredom, I can't be sure, but I get the urge to change every little thing in my life. I change my hair, my job, it even goes as far as my circle of friends. Unfortunately all of these changes have already been made within the last year and there is nowhere left for me to run. Which is essentially what it all boils down to. Escapism.
The only word I can use to describe my life right now is stale. I open my eyes in the morning, same room. I walk out my front door, same council estate. I go to work, same dead end job. I go out at night, same old assholes frequenting the same old bars drinking the same old whiskey, playing the same old music. I come home drunk, the fight to get my key in the front door, search for the landing light, the old lumpy bed. I could go on and on and on, just like every other damn thing that ceases to change in my life.
I plan to run away. Start afresh. New sights, new smells, new people. My only fear right now is what if those too become stale. Then what do I have left? Come back to my past stale life, stay in the present stale life, or keep running, in the hope that I finally end up somewhere right for me.
So back to my original point. I made a decision this evening. After taking a sip from the same old Jack Daniels, and sitting by the same old phone, waiting for the same old friends (who manage to let me down every time no matter how much I bust my ass to keep them happy) - the same old disappointment. I decided to fuck it all. Why should I always put my neck on the line to make sure that everyone else is happy, when no other fucker can bother their arse for me? I always have this front, this bravado, this act like I don't give a fuck. Maybe I don't care. Maybe I care too much. Yet another thing I can never be sure of.
Kears once said to me that most writers have a fear of leaving their work unconcluded, and that I have a tendency to leave my work in it's unfinished state. I agree to a certain extent. But I also disagree. In this world I really find it hard to be certain of anything at all. You never know what is going to happen from day to day. So maybe my disconlcusion, is actually a conclusion in disguise. My lack of being able to finish things off, is simply just because I don't believe you can ever conclude anything. It's like the eternal search for happiness. When you finally achieve true happiness, what have you left to strive for? What have you got left to work towards when you've achieved all your goals? (and yes I do realise I may have just made a few words up there, but fuck that too).
If only I could figure out what it is I am striving for in the first place, then I'd perhaps know where it is I am heading.
Wednesday, 18 April 2007
7 Things...
I was going to post this as a bulletin on MySpace, but I don't want loads of people who I don't give a fuck about reading this, and trying to work out who it is for and knowing my damn business. I know the important people will see that I've written something and will take about five minutes from their busy lives and will know which bit is for them
BODY:
Write 7 things to 7 different people. Keep it anonymous and be honest.
1. You are my best friend in the world. Ever. I know sometimes we clash, and I know sometimes we don't speak for what (to me anyway) feels like forever. And I know when we finally get all this shit out of the way and get ourselves sorted, that you are the only person who will have problems with what I do or say. And too fucking right. Because you are the one and only person whose opinion I really give a fuck about. You are my soul mate and I fucking love you. Now get your shit sorted so we can get the fuck out of here
2.You would be my best friend in the world ever. But you're too damn far away. And now it looks like it's going to be even longer until we are finally raising hell again together, and I don't blame you. It's been a tough time for the both of us, and we haven't been there for each other as much as we should have. And neither of us are to blame more than the other, because we're both too laid back for our own good. And I'm sorry if I give you shit all the time, when you're upset and miserable, but you really need to just snap out of it. I care too damn much about you to see you fuck another year up, so sort yourself out. Because I love you, and I don't want it to be yet ANOTHER year before we're back up to our old tricks again - and come and see me this summer damnit!!! It could be a while until we're together again
3. You are the biggest cunt ever. And I love you for it. And I can't wait until we get all our stuff sorted and can jam together properly, because it's going to get messy. Yes yes. But I'm really worried about you. The other day when we were out, you were so fucked, and I'm hoping this isn't a regular occurrence, because I hate to say it, you're starting to remind me of me when I was fucked up, and doing shit like that because I needed help. Just doing stupid stuff, for either attention, or for an escape. And I'm sorry but it's fucking stupid. I don't mind you doing this shit, but you really need to tone it down, it really isn't doing you any good, and I'm worried that one of us lot isn't going to be there and some bad shit is going to happen to you. Because trust me, talking from experience, there are dickheads out there who are going to take advantage of a girl in that state, and it's fucked up. You could end up in hospital, or even fucking worse. And I just don't even want to think about that. I hate to sound like an old nag, but I really do worry about you. Cunt!!
4. I haven't known you that long bitch, but from the time we spent together, I already feel like I know you so well. You're like the little sister I always dreamed I had (I know I've got one but she hates me). I know you've been through shit, - and I'm going to say it again, but I can see so much of myself in you it's fucking unreal. I just want you to know that I'm fucking there for you, and you can ring me anytime, anywhere, even if it's just for something stupid like to say hi or vent or whatever. Because we're going to fuck shit up. You're one of those people who you meet, and you instantly just get along with, and the stuff we write together I know is going to be fucking sick because we just think the same, which is why I trust my work in your sleazy little hands. Let's get fucking messy
5. I'm sorry. Sorry for having to leave you behind with all this shit. I want to be there for these important years. Because these years will be important and determine most of the years to come. But this is something I have to do for myself, because I'm at a point in my life where I just don't know what I want to do or where I'm going, and I hope that you understand that. You're probably the least likely to read this, simply because I know you hate reading ha ha. But let me tell you this, I will always be at the other end of a phoneline if you need me. And if you want when the summer comes you can even fly out for a bit, and we'll jam together, or go surfing and shit. I hate leaving you behind, in fact you are the only person I will really miss, because you are absolutely wicked. It's been a tough year for both of us, and I know shit isn't that great right now. But you have to look after the others for me, because I don't even know what is going to happen this summer, if things go well I'm not going to be around much, I'll probably be travelling a hell of a lot. Maybe you can come with me ha ha
6. (This is for a group of people, but it's not cheating!!!) You are the best people in the world, that I could have possibly ever met. You make me laugh on a daily basis, whenever I'm down one of you always manages to pick me right up. Whether it's KK and his amazing chats. Or Papa Bear and his awesome hugs and random (often pornographic - which is GREAT!!!) drawings. Or Old Man Fewery and his grumpy rants or our talks about TV soaps. Or DW and his spastic dancing and superhero fixation. I could go on forever. Because you all mean so much to me, and I hate the fact that I'm leaving you behind, because you really have made this year bearable, and sometimes enjoyable ha ha. I'll send you a postcard maybe
7. Last and definately not least. In fact probably the most
You know who you are. And I'm going to spare all the mushy talk, because you know how I feel about you. I'm just going to post this and hope that you understand how I feel:
Shed a tear 'cause I'm missing you
I'm still alright to smile
I think about you every day now
Was a time when I wasn't sure
But you set my mind at ease
There is no doubt you're in my heart now
Said woman take it slow
It'll work itself out fine
All we need is just a little patience
Said sugar make it slow
And we'll come together fine
All we need is just a little patience
Sit here on the stairs
'Cause I'd rather be alone
If I can't have you right now,
I'll wait dear
Sometimes, I get so tense
But I can't speed up the time
But you know, love, there's one more thing to consider
Said woman take it slow
Things will be just fine
You and I'll just use a little patience
Said sugar take the time
'Cause the lights are shining bright
You and I've got what it takes to make it
We won't fake it,
Oh never break it'
Cause I can't take it...
Need a little patience
I've been walking these streets at night
Just trying to get it right (Need some patience, yeah)
It's hard to see with so many around
You know I don't like being stuck in a crowd (Could use some patience, yeah)
And the streets don't change but maybe the name
I ain't got time for the game
'Cause I need you
BODY:
Write 7 things to 7 different people. Keep it anonymous and be honest.
1. You are my best friend in the world. Ever. I know sometimes we clash, and I know sometimes we don't speak for what (to me anyway) feels like forever. And I know when we finally get all this shit out of the way and get ourselves sorted, that you are the only person who will have problems with what I do or say. And too fucking right. Because you are the one and only person whose opinion I really give a fuck about. You are my soul mate and I fucking love you. Now get your shit sorted so we can get the fuck out of here
2.You would be my best friend in the world ever. But you're too damn far away. And now it looks like it's going to be even longer until we are finally raising hell again together, and I don't blame you. It's been a tough time for the both of us, and we haven't been there for each other as much as we should have. And neither of us are to blame more than the other, because we're both too laid back for our own good. And I'm sorry if I give you shit all the time, when you're upset and miserable, but you really need to just snap out of it. I care too damn much about you to see you fuck another year up, so sort yourself out. Because I love you, and I don't want it to be yet ANOTHER year before we're back up to our old tricks again - and come and see me this summer damnit!!! It could be a while until we're together again
3. You are the biggest cunt ever. And I love you for it. And I can't wait until we get all our stuff sorted and can jam together properly, because it's going to get messy. Yes yes. But I'm really worried about you. The other day when we were out, you were so fucked, and I'm hoping this isn't a regular occurrence, because I hate to say it, you're starting to remind me of me when I was fucked up, and doing shit like that because I needed help. Just doing stupid stuff, for either attention, or for an escape. And I'm sorry but it's fucking stupid. I don't mind you doing this shit, but you really need to tone it down, it really isn't doing you any good, and I'm worried that one of us lot isn't going to be there and some bad shit is going to happen to you. Because trust me, talking from experience, there are dickheads out there who are going to take advantage of a girl in that state, and it's fucked up. You could end up in hospital, or even fucking worse. And I just don't even want to think about that. I hate to sound like an old nag, but I really do worry about you. Cunt!!
4. I haven't known you that long bitch, but from the time we spent together, I already feel like I know you so well. You're like the little sister I always dreamed I had (I know I've got one but she hates me). I know you've been through shit, - and I'm going to say it again, but I can see so much of myself in you it's fucking unreal. I just want you to know that I'm fucking there for you, and you can ring me anytime, anywhere, even if it's just for something stupid like to say hi or vent or whatever. Because we're going to fuck shit up. You're one of those people who you meet, and you instantly just get along with, and the stuff we write together I know is going to be fucking sick because we just think the same, which is why I trust my work in your sleazy little hands. Let's get fucking messy
5. I'm sorry. Sorry for having to leave you behind with all this shit. I want to be there for these important years. Because these years will be important and determine most of the years to come. But this is something I have to do for myself, because I'm at a point in my life where I just don't know what I want to do or where I'm going, and I hope that you understand that. You're probably the least likely to read this, simply because I know you hate reading ha ha. But let me tell you this, I will always be at the other end of a phoneline if you need me. And if you want when the summer comes you can even fly out for a bit, and we'll jam together, or go surfing and shit. I hate leaving you behind, in fact you are the only person I will really miss, because you are absolutely wicked. It's been a tough year for both of us, and I know shit isn't that great right now. But you have to look after the others for me, because I don't even know what is going to happen this summer, if things go well I'm not going to be around much, I'll probably be travelling a hell of a lot. Maybe you can come with me ha ha
6. (This is for a group of people, but it's not cheating!!!) You are the best people in the world, that I could have possibly ever met. You make me laugh on a daily basis, whenever I'm down one of you always manages to pick me right up. Whether it's KK and his amazing chats. Or Papa Bear and his awesome hugs and random (often pornographic - which is GREAT!!!) drawings. Or Old Man Fewery and his grumpy rants or our talks about TV soaps. Or DW and his spastic dancing and superhero fixation. I could go on forever. Because you all mean so much to me, and I hate the fact that I'm leaving you behind, because you really have made this year bearable, and sometimes enjoyable ha ha. I'll send you a postcard maybe
7. Last and definately not least. In fact probably the most
You know who you are. And I'm going to spare all the mushy talk, because you know how I feel about you. I'm just going to post this and hope that you understand how I feel:
Shed a tear 'cause I'm missing you
I'm still alright to smile
I think about you every day now
Was a time when I wasn't sure
But you set my mind at ease
There is no doubt you're in my heart now
Said woman take it slow
It'll work itself out fine
All we need is just a little patience
Said sugar make it slow
And we'll come together fine
All we need is just a little patience
Sit here on the stairs
'Cause I'd rather be alone
If I can't have you right now,
I'll wait dear
Sometimes, I get so tense
But I can't speed up the time
But you know, love, there's one more thing to consider
Said woman take it slow
Things will be just fine
You and I'll just use a little patience
Said sugar take the time
'Cause the lights are shining bright
You and I've got what it takes to make it
We won't fake it,
Oh never break it'
Cause I can't take it...
Need a little patience
I've been walking these streets at night
Just trying to get it right (Need some patience, yeah)
It's hard to see with so many around
You know I don't like being stuck in a crowd (Could use some patience, yeah)
And the streets don't change but maybe the name
I ain't got time for the game
'Cause I need you
Friday, 6 April 2007
I've probably said all of this before
I want to move to California
Don't get me wrong, I love London. I'm a London girl and I always will be. It runs in my veins and always will until the day I draw my last smoggy, polluted breath, but there's something about Califonria that makes me feel like I belong there.
I have a habit of losing track of time, even when I don't want to. It just has a habit of slipping away. If you asked me a question about what happened in the first sixteen years of my life I could tell you things like the carpet in the first house I lived in (black and white key tooth), or the perfume that my mother used to wear when I was born (Anais Anais), but other than those minuscule details, I got nothing. Everything just seems to slip through my fingers, if I try to make attempts to try to portray a certain scenario to someone, conversations disappear even as I'm talking. The images are still strong, and I do have some memories, but regretfully a lot of them I'd rather forget. Yet sometimes late at night when I finally get to rest instead of sleep I write, and it feels as if I’m writing about someone else. Which in a way I am. I'm not the gangly, lanky, seemingly two-dimensional girl I used to be. My hair seems to get shorter by the minute, I hate people touching my hair, but I get ever more daring with it as time goes. My tattoo and plans for more, I hope to become a colourful canvas. But it’s not the outside of this girl that is so much different. It’s the inside. Which is why I think it's time for a change of scenery
I don’t care for sleep all that much. Perhaps I'm scared I'll miss something, but ultimately it's in the wee small hours of the morning that I get all my best work done. My mind empties of all the trivial problems that seem to bother me when the sun is up. Sometimes after dark I can get a little edgy, and frankly I get crazy sometimes, and at these times it's advisable to switch my phone off, because I get a tendency to become brutally honest, and yet somewhat paranoid (that's years of drug abuse catching up with me). But I still maintain the saying I seem to repeat at least once every day: "I'll sleep when I'm dead". Every so often I'll burn the candle at both ends and I'll end up locked away from the outside world for a week or so, feeling a bit sorry for myself, but I love looking at the clock at 4 a.m. and knowing that the rest of the world is silent and still. And that whatever mischief I may be getting into, that the chances are no-one else is doing it.
Last November my girls and I went to California, and it was the best two weeks of my life (so far that is!), besides meeting so many amazing people and feeling so welcome in somewhere that is so different from where I was brought up. Just small things like walking down Sunset Boulevard at 3am after being accosted at a Concert and talking to random rockers in the street, going to a diner at 5am after a gig and getting some breakfast with one of the coolest, worldly-wise men I have met and him showing us how to tip our waitresses properly, or drinking tequila at 7am and watching four day Star Wars marathon, I know that California is the place for me.
A place where the lights never go out. How comforting is that to someone who doesn’t like to sleep?
Don't get me wrong, I love London. I'm a London girl and I always will be. It runs in my veins and always will until the day I draw my last smoggy, polluted breath, but there's something about Califonria that makes me feel like I belong there.
I have a habit of losing track of time, even when I don't want to. It just has a habit of slipping away. If you asked me a question about what happened in the first sixteen years of my life I could tell you things like the carpet in the first house I lived in (black and white key tooth), or the perfume that my mother used to wear when I was born (Anais Anais), but other than those minuscule details, I got nothing. Everything just seems to slip through my fingers, if I try to make attempts to try to portray a certain scenario to someone, conversations disappear even as I'm talking. The images are still strong, and I do have some memories, but regretfully a lot of them I'd rather forget. Yet sometimes late at night when I finally get to rest instead of sleep I write, and it feels as if I’m writing about someone else. Which in a way I am. I'm not the gangly, lanky, seemingly two-dimensional girl I used to be. My hair seems to get shorter by the minute, I hate people touching my hair, but I get ever more daring with it as time goes. My tattoo and plans for more, I hope to become a colourful canvas. But it’s not the outside of this girl that is so much different. It’s the inside. Which is why I think it's time for a change of scenery
I don’t care for sleep all that much. Perhaps I'm scared I'll miss something, but ultimately it's in the wee small hours of the morning that I get all my best work done. My mind empties of all the trivial problems that seem to bother me when the sun is up. Sometimes after dark I can get a little edgy, and frankly I get crazy sometimes, and at these times it's advisable to switch my phone off, because I get a tendency to become brutally honest, and yet somewhat paranoid (that's years of drug abuse catching up with me). But I still maintain the saying I seem to repeat at least once every day: "I'll sleep when I'm dead". Every so often I'll burn the candle at both ends and I'll end up locked away from the outside world for a week or so, feeling a bit sorry for myself, but I love looking at the clock at 4 a.m. and knowing that the rest of the world is silent and still. And that whatever mischief I may be getting into, that the chances are no-one else is doing it.
Last November my girls and I went to California, and it was the best two weeks of my life (so far that is!), besides meeting so many amazing people and feeling so welcome in somewhere that is so different from where I was brought up. Just small things like walking down Sunset Boulevard at 3am after being accosted at a Concert and talking to random rockers in the street, going to a diner at 5am after a gig and getting some breakfast with one of the coolest, worldly-wise men I have met and him showing us how to tip our waitresses properly, or drinking tequila at 7am and watching four day Star Wars marathon, I know that California is the place for me.
A place where the lights never go out. How comforting is that to someone who doesn’t like to sleep?
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