Sunday, 27 December 2009

Friends.

are failing me.


Mother is home.
Happy because it means my dad can vent his shit to someone else.
Bad because they gang up against me.
I was so pissed off I went for a walk; big circle russell square to euston, came home and within 5 minutes my dad had already said to me.
"Listen, i'm not having these ridiculous conversations with you. If you're gonna talk shit fuck off and die."
Beauty of it was that I hadn't said anything in the first place.

Bought a Burberry coat yesterday in the sale (£300, not much of a sale) I payed my dad back in cash but he thinks i'm still eternally in debt to him.



I was meant to have a choice of 200 amazing photos to put on here. but... how life works...I think this is fitting though.

It's amazing who else has family problems.

Friday, 25 December 2009

Merry Christmas

Second year I've been alone (my father this year doesn't count)
oh that was harsh....
well it must be made clear that I DO NOT want to be doing mechanics on Christmas Day.

Regardless of the fact that we never celebrate Christmas, especailly not now.
Orthodox Christmas and that.
I've never had a cliche christmas . Ever. I don't even know what it looks like.
Wasn't rule 1 of Hydrogenism that every day is Christmas?

Productivity of today:
Revised Mussolini.
Decided on my Requiem; Save You - Mathew Perryman Jones & The Promise- Tracy Chapman
Cheerful right?

Tuesday, 22 December 2009

Sunday, 20 December 2009

Good Example:

I had the weirdest thing happen today.
Something weird happens to me everyday but it's usually a consequence of the social environment around me or my own stupidity in the moment of a situation produced my circumstance or as a product of other things happening around me.

However, this thing today was untriggered, unexpected and unexplainable.
I finally sat down to do some Economics revision after having woken up at 1pm (hadn't slept the night before) and procrastinated around the house. I realised after a bit of passively copying up notes that it was pretty dark and I should go switch the light on.
I got up and got this horrible head rush that I usually get if i get us too quickly after stairing at something for a while - I can't really explain it but everything just starts spinning and my eyes just close automatically to block it out. I pause for a second and it goes.
like always.
So, like always, I stopped next to my light switch and put my head against the wall and it just got worse and worse- the time period here is literally about a second.
Next thing I feel is a million things falling on me but I can't move I feel like ive woken up in an earthquake. It feels surreal, like i'm sleeping.
After a bit -I have no concept of time anymore- I realise im in a lot of pain and open my eyes.
I'm lying on my bedroom floor and the entire shelf that's about a metre high with about 10 open sections that were all stuffed with CDs and glasses and bottles and god knows what, has fallen on top of me.
WHAT THE FUCK?
my brother comes in asking what all the noise is about and just laughs and helps me pick the shelf up and put it back where it was and leaves the room when I laugh and tell him it just fell.
I'm shaking and still covered in loads of rubbish, broken glass and general 'stuff'. I have a silver bowl that sits on top of the shelf that had wacked me on the head when it fell down and my ribs hurt because, obviously, the fucking shelf fell on me.
That's the first time in my life that i've passed out.
That must be what happened.
When i closed my eyes I blanked out and fell sideways and hit the bottom of the shelf so that it was off balance and only realised what had happened when things started raining on me.
If the shelf hadn't have fallen I reckon I would have been lying there for a long time because even when I felt the pain of things hitting me I didn't, and coudn't, move.
It felt like it was part of my subconcious.
It was crazy and stupid and I sat there shaking having to put everything back into the neat order it had been in before.
CLASSIC:
My dad walked in after 5 fucking minutes, probably becuase he was just passing by, to see what had happened.
'Is this how you spend the time that you're ment to be revising? Messing about?... Have you even done any maths this weekend? There's so much to do and I just don't think you can handle it. I don't think you know half the stuff, I think you need to practice it. M1 or M2 which is more important right now? There's some hard stuff in there, stuff you don't know, and it's hard to grasp I understand that but that's why you should be working hard to understand, you know, like all the other kids, I bet they do loads of practice every day, that's why they're all better than you. But you don't care do you? You have no aspirations for yourseld. You don't want to do well do you? you just want to chat to your friends on the phone all day then go out late. But Tijana, those forces they're difficult you have to thing before you write anything down, see which direction everthing is happening and then exicute it, write it all out properly, dont rush like you always do and make a stupid mistake, I don't think you have the capability to do that, with a lot of practice maybe.................................'
I wasn't listening. He'll come back in 2 hours and say exactly the same thing to me again.
I was sitting in a pile of (some quite sharp) things that had just fallen on top of me when I had FAINTED in my own room after i had been REVISING. So up his I thought.
But I really wanted to tell him what had just happened. I wanted to tell anyone. I wanted to know that I hadn't gone mad. That it did really just happend. I did just pass out, from lack of light? probably from stress.
'Dad, listen, it was so weird! I was writting and it was quite dark so i got up to switch the light on and I got this head rush, you know what I mean right? Like this weird acute pain in your mind and everything started spinning and I get that all the time but it always goes away after a second or two I just have to rest my head so I rested it on the wall and ... and....'
My dad wasn't listening he was sort of standing there with a face of 'what ARE you talking about? more trivial nonsence, im not interested.' I could tell that he just wanted to walk away, he wasn't looking for a conversation, he only wanted to rant at me about his favourite thing in the world, mechanics.
'Dad i'm traumatised! but if you're not listening then leave. I'm not going to tell you what happend if you don't care.'
And that gave him the excuse to just walk away.

So I still hadn't told anyone. I thought i'd write it on here, for memory's sake.
And because no one understands me what i say my dad KNOWS how to make me want to kill myself and that he's horrible and insain and patronising ALL THE TIME.
Maybe they still won't get it. But I thought it was a good example.

Saturday, 19 December 2009

'Will my green hair be an issue?'

'God knows who my Secret Santa is, probably someone extremely awquard.'

'Suprisingly enough snakeskin doesn't feature so highly in my wardrobe.'

'Do you always have matching eyeshows and nail polish?'

'HATTI HAATTTIIII!!!!!!! YOUR EX JUST TEXTED SANDY SAYING 'HOWS THE PARTY?HAD A FEW TO DRINK??'

'You say 'no way' but then I tell you 'yes way' and you say 'yes way'...'

'So it's OK that I have green hair?

'She must be feeling a bit NIPPY!... she stepped right into that BOOBY trap!'

'...it's just a bit embarrassing, I mean, George Lamb isn't even a celebrity.'

'She's making the Free Masons sign... or is that the Jay-Z sign? I CAN SEE HER BUM!!!'

'So it seems I only have £1...is that alright?'

'We're invited to a Christmas Eve Eve party.'

'God, you're such a Nazi in the morning'

'I seem to have trapped myself between your front door and your gate.'

Tuesday, 15 December 2009

December 15th

'Based on your smile im betting all of this will be over soon.
But you're bound to win, cos if i'm betting against you i think i'd rather lose.
But this is all that i have
so please, take whats left of this heart
and use, please use, only what u really need
You know i only have so little
so please, mend your broken heart and leave.

I dont wanna be your regret i'd rather be your cocoon
but this is all that you have
well this is all i need
i guess its all you knew
and all i had
but now we have only confused hearts
i guess all we had is really all we need
so please lets take these broken hearts and lets use only what we really need
you know we only have so little so please take these broken hearts and leave. '

Saturday, 12 December 2009

Wednesday, 9 December 2009

Incoming call

from Thailand;
'Hey. How's life?'
'Not bad, hows Thailand?'
'I'm scared. I'm in my hotel room and I have 3 double beds.'
'are Thai lady-boys sleeping in them?'
'No. they're empty.'
'Is that just how you roll?'
'.. yer'
'Isnt it like 3 am there?'
'.... 3.40 I met up with a friend who DJs here and we went out to one of his nights.'
'so what's the plan, are you just gonna go where the wind takes you?-'
'When I come back will you kiss me?'
'what? no. obviously not.'
'...'
'are you drunk?'
'No.'
'You are.'
'Ok I am a little...'

Friday, 4 December 2009

Helping people...

...out of suicide is such a weird thing for me to be doing right now... alas...


Beginning to shit myself about resits.
Also feel quite lonely and unloved, and feeling like I should vent that right now.

Thinking of: Sleep and Poetry - Keats
Reading: 'The Fall of Yugoslavia' - Misha Glenny
Emotion: Nostalgic
Verb: floating
Physically: Hungry and tired
Views on this post: Probably the worst i've ever done. Going to stop venting before it gets out of hand

Saturday, 28 November 2009

'Dearest Kebab Kid,'

' I know that what im sayin may sound full on, but I like you a lot and writting the previous message was hard enough for me and i dont want to seem like a fucking bunny boiler (?!) it's just when you ask me to meet your family and stuff then it seems like it's more than just friends; and that's what I want. I understand it's hard cos of my age, but what we have is good and as much as I am laid back every girl, no matter how secure, needs reassurance. I don't want to put pressure on you but you obviously know how I feel and I know you feel the same, so simply and surely we are what we are and lets just admit it to each other.'

Written and directed by Mr Andrew Soar (Legend)

The night Steven Fry lost my glasses

So I get begged to go to some party my friend is doing, he offers me a lift in his Range so i'm like ' OK FINE!'
It's at 1 Portland Place, the isolated Church which is incredible for all kinds of functions.
This happened to be Damien Hurst's arty-farty-party.
All I knew was there was glow sticks and cocktails so I went wild.
After about 5o free cocktails, or there about, I spotted Steven Fry across the room and made my move.
Forgetting that I had been playing around with glow sticks and had essentially dressed myself in them, head to toe, I nonchalantly walked over and said hello to a mutual friend of ours who then introduced me to 'Steven'. I played along as if i didn't know who he was, asking for him to repeat his name because I 'didn't hear' (i'm a dick, I know).
During this short awquard conversation, we managed to exchange glasses, as he liked mine and I liked his.
Damien Hurst was incredibly late to his own party and I made some bad joke about him being
'busy at home encrusting his balls in diamonds'.
Unbeknown to me, him and Steven are BFFLs.
At this moment, as Steven is basically trying to edge away from me, Damien bursts in with a horde of paparazzi following him, and comes straight to Steven, his BFFL, and me.
He may have wanted to ignore my existence but the fact that I was dressed as a glowing beacon made this impossible.
So he did the opposite, spinning me round and admiring my efforts saying I was like 'one of his artworks'.
The doors are being forced shut to keep out the paparazzi but they scream for one more photo,
so Damien grabs me and Steven for one last shot.
This was in the metro the next day.
But I hope never to see that photo again.

ANYWAY, in all this ruckus I duck out and run to the dance floor for a full and crazy boogey with a friend. Eventually, as I begin thinking it's time to leave I realise that I can't actually see....
I run back to where I had met Steven in the reception area but he obviously wasn't there anymore, he could have easily been somewhere else in the building and I maybe could have found him. But try reasoning that to a drunk girl.
Instead, all hope was lost and I stumbled home blind.
My mother the next day demanded we call Steven Fry's PA but I didn't think this was such a good idea.



RIP Missoni ( or commonly misread as Mussolini (?!)) glasses

Friday, 20 November 2009

QASIMI night cap

Quasimi threw a party, via Robin and My Beautiful City, but...
o dear
















Do they know what they are doing? Probably not. 

Saturday, 14 November 2009

TEGAN & SARA

Two day shoot for Matches --> So damn tired

Thousands of lesbians at Shepards 'Bush' --> Awquard

Tegan & Sara's set --> FUCKING BRILLIANT!
Meeting Andrew in Soho --> so much for 'sweet baby' 'I can't believe you cheated on me with Kebab kid!'

Wednesday, 11 November 2009

Count down

I listened in
Yes, I'm guilty of this you should know this
I brokedown and wrote you back before you had a chance to
Forget, forgotten,
I am moving past this
giving notice
I have to go
Yes, I know the feeling know you're leaving.
Calm down, I'm calling you to say

I'm capsized staring on the edge of safe
Calm down, I'm calling back to say
I'm home now, I'm coming around
Coming around
but nobody likes to
But I really like to cry
Nobody likes me baby
If I cry
Spelled out your name and list the reasons faint of heart

Don't call me back
I imagine you and I was distant, non-existant
I'll follow suit and laid out on my back
Imagine that
A million hours left to think of you and think of that

Encircle me I need to be

Taken down

Build a wall of books between us in our bed
Repeat, repeat the words that I know we both said
Relax into the need We get so comfortable
Remember when I was so strange and likeable
I just want back in your head
I'm not unfaithful But I'll stray
When I get a little scared
When I get a little...
When I jerk away from holding hands with you
I know these habits hurt important parts of you
Remember when I was sweet and unexplainable
Nothing like this person, unlovable
I just want back in your head
I'm not unfaithful But I'll stray
When I get a little scared
When I get a little
Run, run, run
Run
Run, run, run
Run

I felt you in my legs before I ever met you
And when I laid beside you for the first time I told you
"I feel you in my heart and I don't even know you"
And now we're saying bye
I was nineteen, calling
I felt you in my life before I ever thought to
Feel the need to lay down beside you and tell you
"I feel you in my heart and I don't even know you"
And now we're saying bye
I was nineteen, call me
Flew home, back to where we met
Stayed inside I was so upset
Cooked up a plan so good except I was all alone, you were all I had
Love you, you were all mine
Love me, I was yours right?
I was yours right?

HARRY BROWN PREMIER


So me and a friend get picked up in an Addison Lee and taken to Leicester Square.
I have been, deliberately positioned next to George and Larry Lamb because the guy doing the seating arrangement knew I would be good at annoying them.
What a brilliant film.
Michael Caine is amazing.
Very dark, but so real.
Felt a little like it made out there was no 'good side' to a council estate, which is why I liked Bullet Boy, but still pure genius

The after party was in an embassy on Portland Place, an incredible space. After a few free cocktails and telling Sting's daughter Coco that she was most definitely a homeless person, I met the genius behind it all; the director Daniel Barber.
He said I should consider acting and that I was 'beautiful and smart'.
How very nice.
He must have been drunk too.

Wednesday, 4 November 2009

I do miss

I miss my dred and my bracelets and necklaces and 'i dont really care' style.
I miss bootcut jeans and bright trackies for trampolining
I miss good rock music and being friends with loads of shit bands
I miss guitar and playing it
I miss being 'gifted and talented'

MAN I WAS COOL.

HAIR

lots of it


Look what i found



I <3 UN
hahahahahahhaah .. ahh good times

Monday, 26 October 2009

Your recieved files






















23rd July 2006

Deleting my files on my old computer I found this jem:

'Nothing is completely ok.
Nothing ever lasts.
Nothing works out alright.
Nothing ends without tears.
Someone always lets me down.
Someone always leaves.
Someone always gets blamed.
Someone betrays me.
Someone lies.
Something bad happens.
Even on my birthday…

I’m sorry if you get caught up in my bad luck. '


who was an emo teen?
not meee

Friday, 23 October 2009

'A Song About Myself' - Keats

There was a naughty boy,
A naughty boy was he,
He would not stop at home,
He could not quiet be-
He tookIn his knapsack
A bookFull of vowels
And a shirtWith some towels,
A slight cap
For night cap,
Hair brush,
Comb ditto,
New stockings
Old old ones
Would split O!
This knapsack
Tight at’s back
He rivetted close
And followed his nose
To the north,
To the north,
And follow’d his nose
To the north.

There was a naughty boy
And a naughty boy was he,
For nothing would he do
But scribble poetry-
He took
An ink stand
In his hand
And a pen
Big as ten
In the other,
And away
In a pother
Where he ran
To the mountains
And fountains
And ghostes
And postes
And witches
And ditches
And wrote
In his coat
When the weather
Was cool,
Fear of gout,
And without
When the weather
Was warm-
Och the charm
When we choose
To follow one’s nose
To the north,
To the north,
To follow one’s nose
To the north!

There was a naughty boy,
And a naughty boy was he,
He ran away to Scotland
The people for to see-
There he found
That the ground
Was as hard,
That a yard
Was as long,
That a song
Was as merry,
That a cherry
Was as red,
That lead
Was as weighty,
That fourscore
Was as eighty,
That a door
Was as wooden
As in England-
So he stood in his shoes
And he wonder’d,
He wonder’d,
He stood in his
Shoes and he wonder’d.

Wednesday, 21 October 2009

FASHION SHOW

So Owen's has a tradition of doing a themed 'Fashion Show' every year.
Given how many good dancers, singers and actors we have here the production tends to be massive.
our theme was Musicals and we did everything from Grease to Thriller.
It had it's ups and down, it was fucking stressful and the night was a SHAMBLES,
but overall it was damn good fun.

Oh and Andrew got to sit in between my parents.
Sufficed to say, he left at the interval.

Monday, 12 October 2009

11/10/09

8
7
6
5
4
3
2
1
It all came crashing down

Sunday, 11 October 2009

'One night to be confused....

one night to speed up truth...'

The most bizarre 'date' experience. 

I was invited to dinner at his house. 
I befriended his flatmates, as is wise to do in these situations.
They loved me. 
We are howling with laughter and at one point they make fun of my date. 
He disappeared after mains. 
We are too bust laughing and enjoying ourselves to really notice. 
30 minutes pass.
He hasn't returned. 
They go looking for him. 
He's not in the house. 
I call him - no answer. 
I wait an hour. 
I wait another hour. 
It's now too late to catch the last tube home, I'm deep in South West London.
With only his 2 male roommates, who I just met. 
Where is he? What happened? 
A total mystery. 
They suggest I sleep in his bed as he simply has not returned and I can catch the train in the morning. 
They say he did this once before in Cornwall when his mother died. 
I feel bad. 
I take my contacts out, I wash my makeup off with a dishcloth (house of boys). 
I put his clothes on as pyjamas. 
I go to sleep, eventually. 
I wake up in the morning. No sign of him, 
I get myself ready and go to leave the house, when I notice in the corner of the living, him asleep on the sofa. 
We lock eyes as I open the door to leave. 
In the shock, I rush out the front door. 
Walking briskly in the cold air I start to feel bad. 
Should I have given him a chance to explain himself? 
What did I do wrong?
Did I upset him? 
Was he upset about something else? 
Is his family ok, did he get a call about something? 
I turn around. 
Rush back to the door. 
I knock. 
He answers. 
I ask what happened, in the most compassionate tone I can manage. 
He says: I went for a walk. 
To Piccadilly. 
I blink at him (half blind without my contact lenses). 
I wait for the truth. 
It doesn't come. 
I can sense that he felt like I preferred his friends to him. 
Like he felt left out or pushed out. 
But this is not valid. 
Can't be a valid reason for how he acted. 
I did exactly what anyone else would have done - I befriended his roommates. 
Bizarre. 

Saturday, 10 October 2009

Mimi's 19th




'Tell me where you want your giift guurll'


Whiskey Mist

Goodbye Sweet Baby James dress xxx

Katerina's 18th

30/09/09

Roisin's 18th

Dancing. Bonfire. Fireworks. Chinesse Lanterns &... bus from Welwyn






Nari&B's 23rd


LMFAO
Played a gig at YoYo's, Notting Hill,
I had no idea who they were.
All I can say it that they are insane.
There was a little Mexican 'dancer' man stood with them who took a t-shrit off after every song and the t-shirt underneath had the title of the next song, he also danced like a maniac.
And, poetically, for the song 'Shots' they took two tequilla bottles from the bar and decided to pour the contents out into the mouths of the girls in the front row.
Me included.

'I'M IN LONDON BITCHHH'


LFW Afterparty

MAHIKI

Parents Away

2 weeks of freedom.

This summerises the last week:

'It was rammed and we ended up having a little model chick bending backwards trying to be a gymnast - just a word of warning to anyone trying this tonight - gymnastics should be left to the Eastern europeans who are about 14 years old, no by people under the influence of vodka! It seems like last weeks Drink Responsibly did not get heeded by all!'
- Andrew Soar, invitation to the Movida club night.

About my english coursework...

Sunday, 20 September 2009

'Juxtaposition'

Open House Weekend
Photography Competition
I won

Thursday, 17 September 2009

FIRE WORKS

London through a kaleidoscope.
Colour, magic & beauty.

BBBD

Makes you re-think your life.

I'm such a fail.

Thursday, 10 September 2009

Consequence of Sounds

I absorb back in
The words right through my skin
They sit there festering inside my bowels
The consonants and vowels.

SERBIA

12th-27th August
Beerfest. Ada. Mina. Krusevac. Farm. Family. No sleep.
Photography. Broke SLR. 'Summer love'. Catch up with Marta.
Note to self: write book called 'Marko: Falling'

August?

much?
sozlol.
Went to France 28th july -3rd august. AMAZING












Came back in time for Example Roller Disco shindig and Arun's 18th











Sunday, 26 July 2009

Partaay

Jack's was jokes!
I felt loved again, the TITO converses are back in business.
ive managed to get Beni Black Lung even though i didnt go.... and i think i have a cold :\
not good seeing as im going to France in a day.

i havent had an old friend get back into contact with me for a whole two weeks.
sooo weird to hear from you last night.

Baught 10 books on Amazon. why am i excited? No chance of me being able to read all of them this summer even though i need to ><

Saturday, 25 July 2009

17

'Another year older, another year wiser and another year more AMAZING' -Corey!
so.... being 17 is useless
just an excuse for spending £320 on dinner, £200-ish on shopping and £200 on a week away in France.

Pau on tuesday for some reading, jazz and drunkeness! wooo

Did Marie Claire 20th/21st
out in November

Friday, 17 July 2009

Wednesday, 15 July 2009

The Fire King

Prooves to be a dick head once again.
and i thought it was impossible to be any worse than it previously was.
you've out done yourself sunny boy.

My life is a sit-com















This week is a primary example of the sit-com of a life I lead.

Go to the ASI Boat Party on the Thames with about 20 other Owen's economics keen-beans.
Lay down the law that the absolute bare minimum amount of classes of champagne drunk by each student must be 10 if we are to live through this boat trip.
We begin the night by downing 2 glasses each.
We depart from the boat, at 9pm so epically drunk that two people are immediately sick.
Some Etonians tell us it will be a really good idea to go to the Carlton Club.
Within an hour we're asked to leave because we're 'too drunk'.
From the top of the stairs I can see the aristocracy ascending; some fresh from the countryside in Barbours and boots.
I, thinking it will be a really good idea, decide to slide down the banisters and am successful for about three steps then elegantly fall off.
In my drunken state, in the middle of the Carlton Club's red carpeted staircase, try to compose myself, close my eyes and steady myself. I take a calm step forward, forgetting entirely that I am on stairs.
I subsequently roll down the remaining stairs and pick up so much momentum I roll myself out of the club and with a little help from Felix (furious at me by this point) I am bundled directly into a cab home.
I arrive home at 10:30, a despicable time to be so drunk.
I had never been sick from alcohol in my life (my 'eastern european' tolerance has stayed true), until this night.
I fall asleep in the bathtub and am woken up at 8am when my mother comes in to get ready for work, I jump up and convince her I am just on my way to school.
In full ball-gown I grab my bag and walk straight out the door with purpose.
Sick on the train and sick again in economics; a lesson entirely spent by us telling the teacher all our various anecdotes from the night before (I think he is rather proud), I decide to go home.

My booker calls to tell me that I have been booked to do a British Vogue shoot that very afternoon, just for a few hours.
I'm so pleased I forget I'm ill and run over to the location.
Wondering around in Piccadilly, I eventually find the right street and the right location.
To my horror,
It's the Carlton Club.
Can you believe it? 
The same staircase, the same rooms, just without all the people; no one that had worked there the night before was there, it was empty.
Still wobbly, perched on the top of a fireplace, they take a group picture of us.  
I leave the shoot to meet my best friend Milo, he consoles me and helps me pack.
I leave my suitcase at Felix's house.
I go to Wembley to meet Stefan to see Oasis live for their last show. 
We talk about how much we want to see Bruno, which comes up the next day but how we won't be around. This really puts a dampener on our Oasis experience.
Suddenly we realise that the premier for all new films is at midnight the day before, we immediately call up cinemas asking if they have tickets, we pay a shit load and dance the evening away more excited about the prospect of seeing Bruno than Oasis.
We run straight to the cinema only to watch 2 hours of, essentially, gay porn.
I walk at 2am to Felix's house where his mother, the MP of Islington, drives us to Gatwick and we fly on a school history trip to Berlin.
This being the first time I had a chance to sleep in 2 days I slept through take off and landing, leaning the whole time on a man I did not know.
When arriving I thought it would be 4 days of relaxing.
I was wrong.
We walked the length and breadth of Berlin and went to see concentration camps. It was exhausting; physically and emotionally.
When I came back I slept 15 hours.