"bella bella bella bella. i hope she finds what she's looking for. i hope she blossoms into who she really wants to be. not who she has to be to survive. i hope she gets the love she deserves, and i hope we manage to stop this silly war we insist on fighting in."
lulu says it so much better than i do. i'm meant to be so good at writing, but when it comes down to expressing my feelings, i find myself inarticulate. like friday night for instance. i wanted to write about the way the bassline was thudding through my body, how we were all moving in time to the music, hot, sweaty bodies pressed against each other. that sounds gross, but it was okay, because there was this magical feeling of oneness. we were all there for a reason; we were hyponotised by the music. i love art, whether it's actual art, literature, music or drama.
now, nameless boy. i've been texting him. he's called sam and he seems pretty nice. again, watch this space.
Manage me, I'm a mess
turn a page, I'm a book half unread
I wanna be laughed at, laughed with, just because
I wanna feel weightless and that should be enough
but I'm stuck in this fucking rut
waiting on a second hand pick me up
and I'm over, getting older
if i could just find the time
then I would never let another day go by
I'm over, getting old!
and maybe it's not my weekend, but it's gonna be my year
and I'm so sick of watching while the minutes pass as I go nowhere
and this is my reaction to everything I fear
'cus i've been going crazy I dont wanna waste another minute here
i love all time low. i'm going to see them on saturday! it's gonna be brilliant.
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