The house is a bit empty this weekend, everybody is off busy with their own lives, doing things. constructive things. you know what im talking about...
buying milk and bread and eggs
lunching with family
buying a dress for tonights night out
doing the laundry
i dont even know what im doing these days. sleeping late and floating about watching ten minutes of an episode of skins or 90210 and then making a bowl of special k and only having three bites and then finding my champagne burst inside my wardrobe and then crawling inside my wardrobe and hiding and singing bon iver and sometimes mike posner if he's in my head and then crawling out and looking in the mirror and not even thinking anything and then going to crawl inside aoifes bed because it makes me feel better and then accidentaly falling asleep and realising that i should really be washing my sheets or reading up on roman architecture which i dont think i really care about.
i dont have time for frivolous things like reality, or traffic lights.
Reality: something that has real existence and must be dealt with in real life
Traffic Lights: look cool when you're on drugs and they change colour
people are such strange creatures. they confuse me so much. i think that if i weren't me and i was someone else i would HATE me and would never want to be friends with me. i wouldn't find me funny or find any of the things i say interesting and i would think that i was the biggest bitch in the entire world. but i still find the concept of humans interesting,
the way that underneath it all, everyone is very self-centred
the way that we all hate ourselves a little bit
the way that we all love ourselves a little bit
the way we love that we hate ourselves
the way that we all dont know what the fuck is going on
the way that some of us pretend that we know
the way some people try very hard to look like their not trying even though they are
the way we're all very similar underneath
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