My day has been thoroughly unproductive to say the least. I slept for most of it, uploaded some photos to Facebook, eventually went to Sainsburys with my dad and bought Vogue. It's a happy indulgence for photographers I suppose, those who like fashion at least. It's a good source of editorial photographers and models. And style, of course. It makes me ache for new clothes annoyingly enough. I think I'm going shopping soon so it's fine, it's fine.
The girl on the cover is called Freja Beha Erichson. She's Danish. I quite like her. Josh Olins who was the photographer took some lovely shots of her. This one (aside for being really out of focus- apologies) is one of my favourites.
Actually, I take back that apology for the focus, I think it adds to it in fact. I had to program my camera to have no flash so as to get the colours I like and that's why it's so blurred. But yeah, I like it anyway.
It smells awfully nice in my study at the moment. My sister bought some cherry body butter from the Body Shop and left it in here.
It was her birthday yesterday.
I forgot to get her anything. Oh well.
He got very drunk last night. Dangerously so. He kept trying to lurch into the road when I was sitting on the curb with him, yelling "I want to just fucking die" and then collapsing on my shoulder sobbing. I was the only person there. We came outside to get signal. No one could find us for a while and he wouldn't stand up. He wouldn't move from the side of the road. It scared me a little.
By the time I left everything was starting to seem slightly surreal.
I was sat outside pointing out the Big Dipper in the night sky and dancing to Mos Def whilst he got violent with random people and begged to borrow someone's phone. He must like her a lot. A lot, a lot.
Small things trigger the most nostalgic thoughts.
In a year I can give up school all together if I wanted. It's been four years at my school. Four.
I still remember meeting her for the first time at the bus stop on our first day of senior school, my mum and sister in tow. My sister was on crutches. She broke her leg jumping off a stage at summer camp.
I'm not nearly grown up enough to stop school.
I can't look after myself at all, I can't even cook pasta because ever since I burnt soup I've been too wary of my cooking attempts to even bother going near the oven. If there's no one around to feed me I just don't eat.
And yet, all I've wanted to do for the past four years is leave this house. I want my own place. I want independence.
The only way to go about it would be to have a roommate. I know who I would love it to be.
Oh yeah, another wave of nostalgia. Him being away is reminding me of when I used to be single. I don't know how I coped without anyone to talk to. That's how the nights used to go. Sat in front of the computer doing fuck all (or homework). It's weird. I feel a bit lost.
