I gave in.

I made a Tumblr.

I feel so guilty and hypocritical but it had to be done.

www.weexhaleandrolloureyesinunison.tumblr.com

I'm sorry.

they'll name a city after us and later say it's all our fault

It's half four in the afternoon. I'm sitting in my Deerhunter t-shirt and pink shorts with the word "Zzz" printed across them- i.e. my pyjamas- and reading yet another Kurt Vonnegut book (Hocus Pocus) with my new Broken Social Scene album playing for the first time. This is what I spend my time doing when I'm not with him.

I need to get a life. No wonder I bore him.

Went to Camden yesterday. Too little time, too little money and too much ignorance of the place to know where to go and what to buy/do. I put money towards some vinyl. I don't have vinyl player but he does although it's in need of a new needle. We bought Lotus Plaza by Lockett Pundt, the guitarist of Deerhunter, for a tenner. Hmm if I can be bothered later I might go searching for my dad's old collection of vinyl. I swear I could have spent hours in that record shop. I wish I'd taken more photos.

We did however, make a rather startling discovery that I did catch on camera:

There's a Jewish museum. In the middle of Camden. What?

I had a dream last night. The type where you wake up and think it's real, that this is just the day after those events happened. It took me a while to realise it was a dream. I can tell when things are dreams because I can't see people's faces in dreams, I just know instinctively who they are. My head gets their shape right, their hair, their angles, but when it comes to their faces it's just blank. It's just a recognition of a person not an actual person. It never is.

I dreamt he ended it and then treated me the same way as he does now anyway and I was confused and hurt and didn't understand why he stopped it when we were the same as we always are. I thought he was different from all the dicks who played my friends, those who treated them as if they cared and then refuse to acknowledge it.

I woke up and thought we were over.

Then in the fuzzy haze of regaining intelligent conciousness I vaguely grasped that that wasn't true.

Ten months.

Fuck.

pack up all the night's dreams, only to drag them out again

Underage was better last year but Los Campesinos! did a good set, although they were only given a half an hour slot. In comparison to the hour long slot by Jacwob who were utter shit this seems rather unfair. Fucking Jacwob.

Everything seems so forced at the moment. We need to think of something to do, we need to go somewhere, blah, blah, blah. Can't we just be spontaneous? Can't we be lazy and have lie-ins and watch bad movies and bake burnt cakes and take photos of the most mundane things? Can't we sit in parks and drink cider and talk about nothing? I had ideas of things to do but when I'm put on the spot all I want to do is curl up and be quiet. Sorry. I know it bores you. It makes me feel bad too. I've been in too many situations where I feel like I'm not enough for some people.

I think for my depression idea I might do photographs where the subject's face is always hidden, showing how they feel unseen, undervalued, faceless. Should be quite easy to do and there's a variety of things I can do with that. I got the idea from photos such as this:

I bloody love water shots but they're almost impossible to do. I can't take photos at swimming pools and I don't have a camera that can go underwater. I should get one.

I've been spending too much time on people's Tumblr's. It's starting to appeal to me.

Not cool.