Bungee jumping

There was this formerly fat, now slimmed down girl doing a bungee jump on TV- she was hesitating, but she decided she was going to do it.

I love what she said as she leapt off: "To making good memories and not necessarily good decisions"

Bungee jumping would be so scary. I do not have a head for heights.

Most days, i wish i was beautiful enough that it would be all that i needed to be.

I wish i wasn't always scared, anxious, cowardly and ugly. I wish i was pretty when i cry and sexy when im angry. I don't like it when the red haze takes over and all i want to do is hit something and all the chanting in the world is not gonna make the anger boiling behind my temples go away. I hate it that i blame everything on myself and i cant fix it.

I don't like saying 'i hate myself and i want to die' but sometimes it seems easier that way.

Good things can come from a keen ear in changing rooms.

And in one little moment
It all implodes

This isn't everything you are

Breathe deeply in the silence
No sudden moves

This isn't everything you are

this was gonna be a funny post till i got on the elevator and realized i lost one side of my new lily earrings and the guys at McDonalds forgot to pop my choice of sauce with my chicken strips. Grrrr

What are the odds

On my way home from work, on the last leg of the journey i have follow an underpass that runs below the railway tracks.
The crossbeams are home to pigeons hence the underpass stinks of bird poo and the road littered with squashed dead pigeons. Yuck. I usually hold my breath as i go under.
As i glide along, anticipating warmth, sleep and breaded chicken i see something plop on my right knee. The plop was audible and i (internally) jump. The bike swerves ever so slightly. Im lucky i dont get killed by saturday night speed freaks.
A large dollop of bird shit has landed on my knee. I laugh, cos this is the second time a pigeon has shat on me. What are the fucking odds? Some people consider it lucky anyway.

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That was gonna be the post.  But then i looked in the mirror in the elevator. Fucking shit, those earrings were new! First time worn. And my chickens strips didn't have any dip! I blame McDonalds for losing my earrings- i had to take my headphones off to order. Ugh. And i have bird shit on my nice black skinnies.

A pearl

There was a very odd American man I met in Athens who said I had a lovely endearing smile. After several late night chats he showed me a massive tattoo on his abdomen. Not particularly a beautiful tattoo, it was a Persian poem, written in Arabic script. He proceeded to recite the poem- I can't remember it exactly, but something about a man travelling the world searching for a pearl only to realise at the end of his journey the pearl he was looking for was within himself.

I've been searching for the poem since.

It's ok, it's just you

Sometimes i slip and i wonder what could've happened if i didn't play the anti-friendcest card with you.

But i remind myself that this is good. More than good, it's great. I like how we are, the inappropriate conversations and honest truths (sometimes). The fact that i can be silly, frivolous and a mess; it's ok, it's just you. We won't rely on each other, won't put any stock in this. It's based on common interests and a mutual need to be not so alone.

Music courtesy of Lana Del Rey, trout pout extraordinaire, one the most stunning and gorgeous songs i've heard in a while.