Fire signs

things i'm grateful for.

lil frostie (i promise to clean you more). coincidentally, a clean car. getting lost on late night drives. tango ice blasts. fox valley at night. tan accelerator. menthols. one litre water bottles. posh girl dresses. flesh colour tights. morbid murder knowledge. snacks in her conservatory. smoking on her porch steps. holiday pay. getting what you need. recovery. eating disorder therapy. freckles. dolce & gabbana imperatrice 3 and £2 destiny perfume. bbqs with sweet hearts. googlemaps on your phone. little stories on your phone notes. cinnamon iced lattes with an extra shot. night drive playlists. new books. your favourite writer's instagram.

bears in the fox valley

on your birthday we smoked roll ups on your front steps. the late august crescent moon dipped below the terrace house horizon, the streetlights still orange. your dog slept in the grass while we breathed fire and smoke into the midnight like we were seventeen again, not twenty-three. the next night, outside the petrol station, your voice never broke as you broke up on the phone. the cars and trucks flew past us in the lay by, down the kinda lonely carriage ways and the neon signs lit up petrol prices like sickly un-natural night light. you searched through your bag for a lighter in the dark, searching for something you knew you could find, unlike the solution to your three years. take enough left turns and you wind up in the same place. time for us babes to take a right. 

hymn for the hymnless

lots of stuff has changed recently. and i've been asking for a change, been waiting for a change, but i was wanting the change on my own terms. and funnily enough, after a good month of extroversion and festivals and partying and drinking, i've found myself hibernating away with this sudden truth inside of me that i've spent my entire life apologising for things that didn't need apologising for and never asking people for apologies when they do things to me that really deserve them. and suddenly i just don't feel the need to apologise, i don't feel the need to diminish myself and it's like it's been waiting somewhere inside of me for somebody to treat me bad enough to realise it. i don't know where i'm going next, i'm giving myself some time to be sad and to enjoy sleeping in for once in my life and while i might consider cutting down drinking soon, i'm also not going to apologise for the ways that i'm dealing, and have always dealt, with that very deserving sadness. so i'm going to waste away for a couple of lazy opulent weeks on fake fur on these rainy summer days and listen to hymns for hymnless girls and learn cherry wine on the guitar and find a way of writing the last two weeks in my journal.

and i'm going to buy two california rolls and eat them by candle light.

Jameson

i promise you, i'll treat him right, don't wanna fight, 
you don't need him like i do. 

22

i was going to reflect on so much, this past year and this past life, but i've done so much reflecting in the last few months inside my paper journals that all i want to do is look outside.

"I have let go of my demons, 

they left me when i sang the truth, 

i'm finally even, i can break all my rules"

YOU CAN'T ALWAYS GET WHAT YOU WANT, 

BUT IF YOU TRY SOMETIMES, YOU MIGHT FIND, 

YOU GET WHAT YOU NEED.

Rainbow

What a woman does is open doors

The loss of faith has been testing me, but I won't let me down this time.

Seen so much you could get the blues, 

But that don't mean you should abuse it. 

I'm drunk as I write this but I'm not as fucked up as i could be.

Since the middle of November, more and more has hit me. To steal words, it's like I've been ejected from the passenger seat and straight out the windshield, with with all the glass in my curls to prove it. That's why I've been straightening it. 

I combed it out myself - a couple people helped me get a car and sat with me while I watched the first sunset I'd seen in months and let me commit radio silence, but I combed that glass out myself. I paid to get that glass repaired. All by myself.

I always had faith in things outside of myself - spirituality, coincidence, tarot, spirit, people. But never much in myself. And after the last few months,

that turned on its head. That loss of faith in everything outside of me has shifted and now I only really have ride or die faith in myself.

I'm glad - I'm glad I have a foundation on which to build my new life. But I'm a little bitter too, a little less magic, a little more grit. I wish someone had known me more when I was dreamy and soft and waiting for some eyes and hands and heart to wonder at my resilience to continue on - only beautifully altered.

Now I'm different m. The loss of faith is testing me but I won't let me down this time.