one minute i'm safely ensconced in the denseness of Henry Kissinger and thinking that maybe taking more international relations subjects will quell my tendency to behave as if i'm in a really good james bond film, or a really bad episode of spooks. the next thing i know, i'm dancing crazy like to Mates of State and joining twitter. perhaps its a reaction to having to read over a hundred pages on how Pax Europa went down the drain, or perhaps it's just more attention seeking. whatever. it's there, i'll get bored of it in a week. so will you.
it's also sort of an experiement to see if i can save some money - i spend too much time clogging people's inbox with inane texts during the day. because god forbid i actually talk to anyone at unsw.
also, the dry cleaner thinks i'm a loony. i may have accidentally thrown Kissinger at him.
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sunday mornings in libraries. sunday afternoons in cafes. nights spent face down listening to white noise. swing dresses dried flowers and a pink sofa. ink stains and squids and messy hair. records on repeat. joan didion and middlemarch. words clutched so tightly they might as well be heartbeats. bad temperedness to boot. and a skirt worn like a flag
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