Savage torpor
Savage torpor
Unprompted, he compares me to Sean. You’re just the kind of girl that people want to conquer – strong intellect, weak heart. It fills men with a certain sense of pride. It’s just – you’re so sexual – how can men be friends with you? I never wanted this, but the inevitable answer comes. You have to live with this. In other words, deal with it. Comparing art at 3am, electrifying conversation with someone I cannot, must not lose.
He calls me, with heavy sarcasm, the original ingenue. The mystified childlike act comes naturally to me.
He took her to Port Meadow. He took her to Port Meadow and burnt Persuasion in a field. All over. Yet a week later, nothing had changed. Why her? Why is it always her?
Love. Six times quicker, and I can’t get it out of my head. One nail pink, another blue, and a stomach ache that never goes away.
Disturbing the dust on a bowl of rose leaves
The way I feel today - 10 July 2004
Just seventeen - 17 March 2004
Roads to freedom - 25 February 2004
Confessions of a failed self-harmer - 25 February 2004
Manchester, united - 25 February 2004