austere

it was always about leaving. and my pathological desire not to be held down. even though i made a habit of letting you down. but. i don't believe in goodbyes or bon voyages or happy sentiments. i don't think those things matter, and as i recall, you didn't believe in the word 'friendship' so your high horse is a shetland pony. we're on even ground here. i fucked up big time, but so did you. in this world of quick shots, you've gotta learn to count your bullets. after all, i did.

xx

my main gripe with sydney is that it's alot like paris hilton - technically pretty, but icy. and kind of weird - you know there's got to be some sort of hidden depth but fucked if you can work out how to access it. my opinion of london so far is that its a lot like kylie minouge - warm and welcoming and sparkling, but boy, you have to work hard to get some meaning out of it.

xx

i want to write on this blog the way i did on my old one, but the idea of doing that freaks me out a bit.