Monday, December 31, 2012

Monochrome

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Everyone is focused on New Year 'fandom' and generally excited by the enticement of a fresh start. I will settle for not mucking up the date every time I try to write it down within a week and clearing some stuff. What I would really like to do is move in a comfortable armchair into my pad and have some shelves for candles, glittery skulls and DIY stuff I've made. I think it makes my poor boyfriend a little uncomfortable knowing my Furby sleeps right by my head at night and there needs to be a better spot to put it. Fake grass and some shelves for extra space- that's what I would like to see in the new year. I also want like a big and garish pinata of a Panther head hanging from my lighting- although that would probably just encourage the moths and stuff to cluster about there. Interior decorating for dummies; can someone show me how please?


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Following other self-pitying matters I found my dairy for 2012 which as a blank page titled "Books I've Read" which just goes to prove my literary pursuits ever since leaving high school English behind me are by small and going wrong in a cataclysmal fashion. I know I did re-read Terry Pratchett's "Johnny and the Bomb" again and maybe some others but I also forgot to log them and have failed once again in using a diary and planner. I should probably give up at some point. Not only did I not keep up with the reading chapters for each unit of my degree last year I also neglected feeding my imagination with wonderful books. This whole university student thing stuff... I don't think I'm doing it quite right. If I was more hormonal and subject to minor things ruining my day I would feel as down as Charlie Brown attempting to kick a football. That's pretty damn low if you ask me.



Christina Dietze photographed by Byron Spencer- invariably related to Givenchy and wearing Slayer.

Can I share a sect with you guys? I really want this nose piercing- AGAIN. Well I'm going to Soundwave so Slayer are going to be there anyway but I have been warned by my older brother watching out for the baby of the family that crowds for Slayer tend to boo whoever plays before them. Or maybe that was Anthrax. Anyway, I expect a terrifying but educational experience right before I am flung into the boredom of another Semester of university. By now I had meant to pry open the dusty covers of my books and look at all the material I was lazy enough to skip over last year. That didn't happen. I watched my first Wes Anderson film with my mother, The Darjeeling Limited and I feel myself swept in the romance of actress Amara Karan who I first saw in Doctor Who. I then drank Rose tea with French Vanilla (the first time I hated it) and ate a single and little bit over ripe cherry. Like Francis I am confused as to whether this is all symbolic, whether I am hopefully and projecting those hopes onto everything around me and everything might mean nothing after all. I don't know.


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Smoking in the bathtub: perhaps the ultimate combination of relaxation/ self-destruction and the perfect femme fatale clincher.The good news is, if you drop a cigarette in the bathtub you won't burn yourself. I guess the bad news is that when that does happen you'll have flaky bits of ash floating around everywhere and clinging to your body. I'm a bit haunted by the callous nature of my boyfriend's older brother bandying his fag around and burning our co-workers. Not much has changed since that night. Well he hasn't it seems, I don't think I have much either unfortunately.


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As much as I love the serene composition of this photograph; who the hell boots imitation motorcycle boots on a white bench top? Sorry guys I guess I am just envious that there is the whole minimalist approach going on here and my room is a caged-wrestling matching fraught with tigers for space. I have used approximately seven plastic storage containers already to put a lid on the epidemic of the junk in my room but when I'm not looking it must multiply or something. Nothing is mouldy. I swear. I tend to ramble when faced with Jeffrey Campbell Coltrane boots which I am sort of in love with. I'm trying to play hard to get somehow and I don't think inanimate objects respond well to reverse psychology. 


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My secret pleasure as of late other than eating savoury biscuits late at night is watching old episodes of The Simpsons and remembering I can mouth entire episodes. Often I feel tired though so usually as I pass my brother in the hall I begin some lines and then he finishes. Or the other way round. I shouldn't be surprised that they keep trying to write new episodes with relevant topics to today but they just don't hold the same magic for me. The animation and what they do is amazing with the show now but I miss the nostalgia. It's unfamiliar and new territory but that's not what upsets me and gets me. I guess I like being reminded of the time before I grew up and before realising the world kind of sucks at times and the darkness when everything lost all beauty. On the upside: I'm seeing Metallic in exactly two months.


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