fucking hell, my flat needs a cleanin.

Whoa, Burnt Sienna Trio, and Possessed by Paul James at Dan's tonight.

Some good. and a very much needed distraction. i'm tense this past week, it seems. stupid and nervous.

Moon's almost full, too.

i wrote a letter today, to the future.
to the future cos She'll be here friday, and go back on sunday, but the letter i mailed today will get there while she's here.


threw this out on a bar flyer, jumbled from the words in the air there:

this room is on fire and
we're about to explode
but oh, nobody bring us any water
i'd go, i'd go, i'd go, i'd go
full out into the sky
fireworks don't apologise
and i won't let them take that away from you
won't let them take that away from me

prob be a song by next week, if it's not too theify.

yeah, bourbon & tonic & moonlight & missing
cannae think about it
cannae think about it
cannae think about it


and there's plants on the porch there, all in bigass clay pots and a scraggly mess of diff types
and one had this tiny lil plant tucked in the lemongrass there, standing out all green in the light browns & yellows
bartender saw me lookin
"that's a strawberry plant tryin t'grow there"

melted me.




and tonight i said six(!) words i've not said in recent memory:
" i cannae, i have a girlfriend."

and it felt fucking good.