#43 we didn't make it west

a disection of the aforeshown (not a word) pictures.
i. the squalor of the tent.
ii. east wittering beach in the evening and the pretty shapes of the ripples in the sand.
iii. dry and yellow sea foam.
iv. puddles part one.
v. puddles part two.
vi. some fields (not very interesting).
vii. me and matt walking to the beach where we jumped in the water.
viii. the sea (choppy)
ix. chop.
x. camping chairs.
xi. brave new world.
xii. people's feet were disgustingly dirty.
xiii. risotto (nice) cooked in water which tasted like plastic.
xiv. the daddy long legs in our sleeping area. maybe somebody killed it.

42 another dragging through the days sort of time

nothing exciting has been happening recently to take pictures of except i am using a really childish purse because i have no other purses with enough room for all my stuff and my mum nearly killed this cactus so i am trying to save it.

my pit beards are really undramatic because they are blonde. i feel sad about finishing my first year at college tomorrow. i think i might be one of those wet drips who cry when it actually comes to leaving despite having a vow of loathing for the town i live in.

i want to invest in more plants.

41 tree houses and second hand books

what i have been doing and reading recently (except i haven't read them yet, just bought them) i need to stop buying books and start reading them.

i feel cold today even though it is july and i wish everyone and everything would leave me alone.

40 what i talk about when i need more sleep

i am currently caught in the middle of one of the few moments when time is passing slowly because it's bearing its weight on my heavy eyelids. the sun is streaming through my curtains and onto my face but i am unable to feel anything of the warmth except the humidity of dread. i want to write something but i have nothing to write about even though there are billions of things in the world, maybe the answer is to stop thinking in numbers. i want to smash a window and watch the panes of glass turn blue and become part of the sky which looks unusually clear today so why is my mind usually clouded and hazy? because i am not really a part of the sky or anything else at all but my own being and soul, if i have a soul. the houses in my head are all blind with net curtains and ugly mismatched furniture. responsibility has done nothing except cripple me and now my eyelids are heavy with the sun and time bearing their weight upon them. my eyes are going to burst and nobody will really notice. i suppose that's the average punishment for somebody who asks these questions and tries to break things until their fists are bloody or for the person who craves sleep. i need to drift off now for a number of days weeks months years until the world wakes me up and there are flowers instead of pavements again and unslaughtered cattle trotting down dirt roads instead of people and their cars.

39 addicted to cute knickers

i firmly believe that short nails are able to be pretty as well.

my hayfever is incredibly bad.