Oct 31 2003

Bad start to a bad day


Oct 29 2003

Goldfrapp (ii)


Oct 25 2003

First impressions

The view

(the colours are all natural, baby!)
At sunset I overlook the city, the sun shining through my window with the most awesome colours vividly clawing into the sky.

from the window.

from the window.

Well defended plant

well defended plant.

well defended plant.

Brighton Boy took me on a bikeride today — the first I’ve been on since my brother almost killed me taking me on a busy road to a video rental shop. The air was fresh, I spotted lavender coloured leaves - the most beautiful I’ve ever seen, and stopped to photograph the above plant. Coming to stay at his is a break, and I expect that when I return back to see my mother, it will be nothing short of a country break away from the city. I don’t get much opportunity to update right now, but I will soon. Just soon.

Cement works

cement works!


Oct 03 2003

Back soon

I had a dream and Paris Train was its soundtrack.

Beautiful fragments of glass swirled in the vanilla fragranced air, shimmers of iridescent light flickering on the backdrop of a fragile starlit sky. The mist curling itself around my body soon became the beautiful milky way, a constellation enveloping my body - I was cocooned. Stars racing to burn out. My body began to glow from the centre, a soft spark lit in my core, as it then began to spread warmth through my lifeless body. Every tear I ever cried was replaced by a circling star - orbiting me, each on its own route, careful not to cross another stellar element. Never cry more tears than you could hold in your hands. As the lights grew stronger surrounding my body I began to shrink, my skin molding into luminous honey, my bones dissolving into this mellifluous liquid. Soon I was nothing but pure white light, a constant exchange of elements, burning as bright as I could. I knew then, surrounded by these constellations and intergalactic explosions of light and colour, that everything would be okay.

Stars racing to burn out / the storm beginning to break / this was inevitable.


Oct 02 2003

Plenty of packing

Two days to go.

Nana