What is it that pretty girls do?

I asked aoife that today. 
Aoife: ermmm what do you mean...
Raya: when they look in the mirror, do you think they're all like "ohhhh look at me im so pretty wowwww''
Aoife: and then what do they do?
Raya: pretty girl things. like.....put on lip gloss or something


we're playing magnetic poetry now and it's looking a bit like this:
murmur about one another
as if love were like winter


the best soundtrack to frosty sundays with magnetic poetry is the smiths. we've been spreading the love for the smiths around our school a bit so hopefully we can take over the world with that; maybe.
i also decided to never cut my hair. hmm
we'll be heading back to boarding house this evening for some hot tea and a chat


love always, raya and aoife

this is the first time i've seen snow. ever. for real. wow. i'm just amazed. i've been eating it off aoife's windowsill all day and it really does make a lovely post-breakfast snack. apart from being snowed in; i have a mountain of essays to write for teachers who really should fuck off and eat some cock cheese or something. 
   all rants aside i am fully aware that we've been shitty bloggers this past week and a half and although the pictures are lovely, they don't exactly compensate for real writing now do they? i have four major esssays to work on today consisting of:
research on the life of Sophocles for classical studies
an essay on the use of the irish harp in gealic ireland for music
how stalin came to power for history
and a major look at about 10000 Sylvia Plath's poems. 
i've sort of made a dent in the Sophocles essay but i've decided to indulge in a break consiting of mindless facebook stalking; blogging natuellment; and listening to bon iver.
the only thing that just takes the biscuit are ALL THE FUCKING PEOPLE WHO POST STATUS' LIKE 
''omg snow!!! xxxxx" 
yes.
we know.
we have windows too, darling.
we can see the 'effing snow.

I feel infinite

You are neither here nor there

our weekend was long; sugar rush and a bong

Fuck this adolescence

I like boys with nice hands and good grammar.
 I like to climb inside the duvet cover and pretend that nowhere else exists, I like jumpers with holes in the sleeves for my thumbs.
 I like to feel loved and not lonely, i like long car journeys and staring out windows.
 I like cold weather and city lights, drinking tea and feeling OK. 
I like the smell of the people i love and i like to dance, dance, dance.
I'd like to leave school and run away to California, and i'd like if oneday the world made sense.


Aoife ♥

bonjour,

so we're off for a night out tonight and im not going to lie... im buying into the leather and lace trend: leather leggings and a lace top. hope it's not too cliche. should be a good night though im going to be broke after this! im also planning on dancing till my feet fall off. always a good remedy after a bit of a shite week.i hope you lads have a fabulous weekend. party hard and shit. and if your going to stay in have a cheese toastie with barbecue sauce and a strong cup of tea. it goes perfectly well with a night of internet stalking and x-factor (GO WAGNER)  

i'll leave you with some little pretties:

fairy lights, animal collective and duvet tents

we love making tents by crawling in the duvet covers and eating biscuits and listening to animal collective and david bowie. it makes you feel better when you feel like you want the earth to swallow you up

atelophobia

the fear of imperfection, of not being enough

FUCKYEAHCODINE

bonjour m'dears; so benny and i have just gotten back from IKEA and me having lived on a small island whos name no one can pronounce before coming to dublin, had never seen one before. all i can say, is wow. we literally saw the best kitchen and bedrooms and i pictured living in a tiny studio apartment tucked away in bright lights of paris with all my ikea teapots and curtains with moose on them.
i also am loving my new painkillers right now. codine is amazing. try them, or anything with codine. thats my advice for the day. oh and dont trust anyone who says they'll be there. because they wont. fucking liars.
im in desperate need of some boots. and a nice new coat. too bad im broke but i'll be scanning the classifed section of the paper this week so maybe i can start generting some $$$$$ so i can actually buy stuff.

im actually in complete love with these boots. i. need. them. in. my. life. (riverisland.com)

love always, raya

C'est la vie

evening m'darlings. hope lifes not taking too much of a toll of you. its been a stressy week in school and its safe to say i havn't been having to best of weeks. oh well it should look up rather soon due to some much-needed RETAIL THERAPY. i've been bumming it in my sherpa shirts and unbrushed hair. like a boss hobo.
winters started with a bang so we've been layering it up. oh how i long for summer days where theres tons of festivals nd we can wander barefoot, barelegged. ahhhhhhh. six months left.

current life situation: FUCKED




love always, raya

To-Do List

Get annorexic and do Cocaine

Dive off a cliff

Go to Wales

Live with Native Americans

Be snowed-in in a shed, play Monopoly, have no phone, tv or laptop and read 100 books 

Go on a road trip

Go to the west coast of Ireland

Sit at a pool with my best friend and drink for 3 days straight

Play 7 Minutes in Heaven

Party on a small island

Camp under the stars

Go back to Canada

Inter-railing with Aoife

Party On A Boat

Play Spin The Bottle

A thousand splendid suns

Her hands cupping his elbows. The upside-down, mandolin shaped birthmark beneath his collar bone, glowing red. His face hovering over hers. His black curls dangling, tickling her lips, her chin. The terror that they would be discovered. The disbelief at their own boldness, their courage. The strange and indescribable pleasure interlaced with pain. And the look, the myriad of looks, on Tariq: of apprehension, tenderness, apology, embarrassment, but mostly, mostly of hunger.

A thousand splendid suns, Khaled Hosseini.