if she hadn't loved Johan so much; from a safer distance she could've protected him . . . couldn't she?


- Hour of the Wolf

have been doing some things lately,
need to detox,
tailspin approaching otherwise.

i just realised i have three undeveloped rolls of film in my fridge,
i don't remember what's on them, but i'm awfully excited at the prospect of rediscovering the past year..

i miss that anticipation with digital cameras; there's no big reveal.


in other news, i'm finally starting back at Uni next week, and it looks like i might be eligible for FUNDING on at least one of next years film projects (which means i'll actually have a BUDGET! wooh!)

later gators.

cannot buy anything decent in this town. fact.

i enjoy extremes so much that i cannot fathom how i ended up so firmly planted in this mediocrity,
i've either had a nervous breakdown or a religious experience,
i'm definitely out of alcohol so am making do with caffeine highs,
i'm relatively certain i'm on the right track again,
or can see the right track,
let's make a movie, purge,
baby, i don't care.

The rest of the week I hang around with the gang, we ride our bikes on the pavement, set light to our pubes, steal, lie, break things, smoke fags down to the butt, draw nobs on models in SKY Magazine, punch people and sometimes we cruise into the McDrive-in of McDonalds and order a McSpunk shake, then we call them McCunts and McPetrol bomb the McFucking joint.

Since this blog has outlasted all the others I figure I may as well actually link to it somewhere. Consider this the death sentence.


eat your generation.

If I don't write much, it's because my life has recently imploded.

Act accordingly.

..and it’s 2am and we’re drinking Mojitos on the balcony, the dome of St. Paul’s nestled below us, in an alien world of economics and responsibility.

And I’m thinking, at this time, about how often my life feels like a succession of barely linked vignettes. Self-contained one-shot comics in which I stumble through other peoples lives, imposing myself upon their ‘moments’.. for a moment.

It’s amazing how unsettled one can be within the boundaries of a single City.
Is Urban Nomad a recognised term yet? If not, can I coin it?

Laura bought some of those alphabet fridge magnet things.

( Continue )

Record April eh? Gosh, I love global warming.

I need a pretty Italian girlfriend for the summer. For art galleries, coffee and Vespa rides along country roads. Please apply within.. maybe I can get my grandmother to send one over from the village *ponders*

What are the P&P rates on posting people via Airmail?

It’s very likely that I shall have to return home for a month or so, between moving from here and moving in elsewhere. Whilst there I am considering gathering all my possessions together, buying a reasonably sized rucksack, and burning everything that can’t fit inside it.


..On an unrelated note. Everything in the following film is incredible:

T'was the first Stay Beautiful of 2009 last night (As well as their 8th birthday). Had an orgasmic trash-glitter fuelled time, that is all.





Note: Still loving the TV! shirt, obviously.

Went to Lightbox tonight for the screenings of Feature and El Topo, plus an hour set by Duke Garwood & The LadyWoodsman (A very beardy sort of experimental blues/folk/jazz outfit).

Irmante sneaked in bottles of wine.

I fucking love that girl.

I half-drunkenly phoned Johanna at a no doubt ungodly hour last night. I’m such a FRIGHTFUL FLIRT..

I also seem to recall an incident involving an ironing board and a car; all of which leads me to consider the possibility that I require CONSTANT SUPERVISION.

I finally bought a fisheye Lomo camera.

"Hey, that's great. You've wanted one for ages." You might say.. and yes it IS great. The problem is that last week I also bought a cardigan and WENT INSIDE the pit of utter hell known as Urban Outfitters.

Did I get bitten by a faux-vintage HIPSTER VAMPIRE and not realise it?


I sense a Nic Cage style breakdown approaching (prizes if you guess the reference)...

It's 2009; should I feed my life more ROMANCE, more POP-CULTURE, or just more ALCOHOL?

Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards.. yes, a few entries ago I had what alcoholics would refer to as a moment of clarity. I have developed a shiny new awareness of both myself and my MORAL AMBIGUITY, which has amounted to exactly nothing.

A year of fucking other people has done little but induce boredom. Distance has failed to alter actual feelings, and physical presence has become throw-away; a disposable detail.

I am utterly a slave to this feline infatuation..