Tears hurt. Alot.
They sting.
I often try to push them back in with the palms of my hands,
But they trickle down my wrists.




I've felt a lot of hurt the last few days.
However, there's also been a lot of love too.

Italian meals; bruschetta, pasta, pesto, olives, nyumm. Walks in the night in the snow. Drinking amaretto & guiness & munching cupcakes, with a kitty to keep us company. A new teapot. Chocolates. Flower fairies. Cutting & sticking tissue paper & photobooth photos. Cuddles & kisses. Developing Diana F+ photos; the unexpectedness, the nerves, the excitement. Father dearest's 50th birthday. Balloons. Presents. Football scoreboard birthday wishes. Crab with apple salad. Divine chocolate mousse. So good, so good.

Staring out into the ocean I can see where I want to be.

Anywhere but here.

(taken with a Lubitel 2)

Plans.

Today is just a day, where I will go to a 60s America lecture & sit still for 3 hours.

Tomorrow, I will buy some penny sweets & take some more photos with my diana f+. Then fly away home.

On Thursday, I am seeing Jeremy Warmsley with my friend from home.

On Friday, I will make wake up with him which is just simply the bestest feeling ever.

On Saturday, I go to the football with my little cousins & giant little brother.

On Sunday, I will eat, drink & be merry with my family before returning to Kent.

Me & faux-big brother are talking of going to Brighton.

Then he might come see me here, before I go home again in two weeks for our Valentine's Day & my Daddy Dearest's 50th.

I'm quite excited. :)

My mind is quite elsewhere.

It's two and a half years in the future whizzing through Russia on a train. Or admiring old cathedrals and art in Europe. Purchasing cute things in Tokyo. Sleeping in a campervan by the beach in Australia & New Zealand. Dancing in the bright colours of Rio. The wind whipping through my hair on Route 66. Kissing my lover in various faraway locations.

However, my mind should be in Anglo Saxon England. Or American in the sixties.

Sometimes my mind just takes a holiday a few weeks in the future to Valentine's Day. Hershey's kisses, pink champagne truffles, "Love, Please" poetry, jewelery, hearts confetti, black & white kisses, cutting & sticking, dressed up dresses, hands in hands, skin on skin, sleepy eyes, sleeping beauty, his dreamy face.

I think I want to make a scrapbook. Of things that are dear to me. & things that are constantly flying through my head. I'd need the perfect blank book. To destroy & prettify.

Shine.

In the morning I read something yesterday about a man who lost his first love to cancer.
I wept softly as it was so beautiful & so heartwrenchingly sad.

In the evening I watched Steel Magnolias.
I wept so hard for it was so terrible, but then I shook with laughter.

Laughter through tears is indescribably nice.
Your body's confused as to what to do so you shake & sniff & smile.
It's wonderful.

Today, I listened to a song I had never heard before by an artist I've adored for too long.
The song made me glow & beam & shine.
Gorgeous gorgeous engulfing feelings.

The sun shone through my windows today.
I think it's trying to tell me it will all be okay.

Secret Fairy Wishes.

I made them. I did, I did.

I wished for nice glittery sweet things.

Flying by train is always a good way to fly.

On the foggiest of foggy days.

To Constable Country. The Dedham Vale.

It was not quite as beautiful as Mister J. Constable's paintings.

His visions were shrouded with a grey veil.

I wore my old wellington boots.

& I managed not to fall over in the mud.

I took my jar full of sequins & glitter
& my little paper wishes
& threw them into the river.

An inspirational project: http://secretfairywishes.blogspot.com/

The rest of my photos: http://www.flickr.com/photos/wall-flower/sets/72157612442761644/

With a bag full of amaretti wrappers & a pocket full of dreams & eyes full of glitter.
We took the train to lands not-so-new, to wander.
My ma & my pa told me to wrap up warm, so I don't float away.
I told my love that he was the one who might float away.
He said it was me. Like a balloon.
We have to hold on tight.

Spaghetti bolognaise & Tiramisuuuuu.
Watson & Crick.
His cold hands & my gloves.