vague vibes

Friday; rearranged my room some more. went to kickboxing, went to get spanakopita, had a drink at the wesley anne, went home, visited by first former boyfriend, got hammered on port, went on dumpster mission with dumpster mission kids. Re-joined friend for more port, ran out of port, refueled with cans of highlander, ran out of that. Extolled the virtues of Tom Waits to each other, smoked a billion cigarettes, cracked open an ancient bottle of father o'leary's and munged on dumpstered twisties. Passed out.
Saturday; friend lost his wallet, which to my knowledge, still hasn't turned up.Eventually gave up looking and went home.The timsons came over and dropped off a washing machine, sans lid. Me and emma had champagne and cigarrettes and sat in the sun. sarah came over and emma dressed us up like ladies. We went to open studio to meet some friends and looked at the moon through some guy's telescope.We left to go to a party in brunswick. which sucked so we ended up at bar open doing shots, some kind of hazy brain fog decended, then a taxi to ding dong. then ridiculously trashy dancing and drinking out of a broken bottle in a brown paper bag, everyone being inappropriately affectionate, I had a lot of contact with other people's necks...dingdong closed everyone went off to bed, me and sarah walked down to the hifi bar and visited our friends who were finishing up, we smoked a lot of cigarettes and explored the band room, scabbed cheap beer and free cruisers from the hifi kids. Then I munted outside. A police car pulls up and Yells "IS she ok?" I raise my thumb in the air and they cruise past. Me and sarah get a ride in a cab with a really annoying guy and I throw up several times on the way, I give all my money to the really annoying guy and then sarah washes all the vomit out of my hair and puts me to bed.
Sunday; wake up at twelve o'clock to a million phonecalls in a row from various people.Spend Four hours trying to sit up. Eat twistiesandwiches walk up street to high vibes festival, walk around in a daze, figuratively bump into several familar people, literally bump into unfamiliar people, avoid one irritating trombone player, successfully take martin martini down a peg or two with quick wit, try o find food, try to find friends; with varying degrees of success, buy overpriced udl cans drink in several gutters, get told off by polizia, run into good friends we weren't expecting to see, run into drunk housemates being annoying. Get wasted, invited to a warehouse party, consider the fact that I haven't showered since friday and have been wearing the same thing since saturday and am probably due for some rest. Walk home because there are no trams. Receive intoxicated phonecall from irritating trombone player, who talks at length about what a slut he is and his existential crises; wanker. Go home, brush teeth for the first time in too long, change into clean underwear. Go to bed. Sleep for a thousand years.

Lately I either feel like this



or this




or this


...

Which would make a better tattoo?

or

"It takes a long time to make love with someone who hates themselves"

I can't remember where I heard that, but it's true.
It took me six hours of trying to sleep outside on a garden bench getting that through my head though. I cut a can in half with my hand... almost. by the time I stopped there was a lot of blood on it. When you've been awake for forty-something hungover hours without proper drugs to aid you you start to get a bit silly to pass the time away. I really did start to wonder for a while there if I had gone over an edge I wouldn't be able to rescale but then I realised that it was probably just a combination of being drunk, being treated pretty meanly by someone who'd recently broken my heart and really really really fucking needing to go to sleep in a bed, preferably mine.
I have decided to view it as a good thing that the most recent of my conquests is an emotional retard for this reason; I got closer to him than anyone else ever has(world of good it did me, pfff), and now he let's people hug him, whereas before he flinched if people got within his seventy-odd centimeter perimeter. I don't deserve to feel crap because I made him feel good though, that's fucked. If I'm going to ever give any part of myself away to anybody again I'm going to take measures to try and make sure that they are at least slightly less fucked up than I am.

"in my life, why do I give valuable time to people who don't care if I live or die?"~moz

Shit is getting sorted out tho, soon I'll be an emotionally functional member of society who is keen to go out and make a fool of myself again and kiss cute boys.

I'm going to go now and drink my eighth cup of tea for today, smoke my bujillionth cigarette and draw pictures of horribly wounded boys in their underwear....

I go out on friday night...

"What's so good about cocaine?" E
"Do you remember being so confident you thought you could fuck the moon?" D
"That never happened." E
"That's cos you don't take cocaine." D
The nightcat was shit, but it was a really cool cat's birth-day party so we gave it a red hot go. The music was shit, I spent the entire time outside smoking cigarettes, inside drinking and talking shit, trying to dance and walking around hugging people. Every place we went to after that sucked as well, but the company was awesome and the free drugs fucking owned. I accidentally spent a hundred and fifty dollars on drinks for people and seventeen-fifty on a packet of cigarettes for my underaged friend. Several instances of me and my two favourite people in the world railing drugs off toilet seats in single cubicals; "You wanna do the dodgy-est thing with the coolest fuckin' drug?", "hundred-dollar note: ^ Coke: ^ toilet seat: v", "YEAH" *HIGH FIVES*
I'm not sure I have a soul anymore I didn't sleep for about forty hours. At about six in the morning at the illustrious Tankerville hotel me and my friend picked the only decent song on the juke-box (Devil gate drive) and fed in a dollar coin, as a fight broke out around us, some really rough dyke dove past me at another chick to punch her and hit me in the tits as my friend steered me away, we rejoined our crew on the other side of the room and my friend dug out a small bag "Hey, hand me that straw you keep in your wallet" "Um are you sure you don't wanna head around the corner?" "Nah, the security guards are all looking over there" motions to brawl around the pool tables, "here you go" Sniff, "cheers". We left, walked through the park in the cold morning light and chased ducks, dead on our feet, ran into my housemate who'd spotted my friend's orange 'fro and my very short green dress from the tram, she was on her way to work, so it was somewhat, slightly surreal. We left the birth-day boy and his new ladyfriend to go and hang out at the myer music bowl and caught the train to Dennis station. We put my friend to bed at her house and hung out in the mounting sunlight out the front...then a bunch of other stuff happened that causes me to doubt my character and the strength of my convictions, I'd like to put it down to the expensive drugs and the lack of sleep, but whatevs...