a fairy came-a dancing upon a summer's day.

everyone in class danced to this song when i was six years old. we practised on and on after school, and i'd put up a show for everyone every single boring day when i went home (with noone except my dad clapping all the way till i was done) and then on performance day, when the white fairy dresses arrived, mine turned out too long at the hem, so they couldnt take me in.
doesn't matter love, you hold the paper stars instead. dont look so hurt now, there there, you can always say tinkle tinkle in the end.

a fairy came-a dancing upon a summer's day.

yesterday i taught my drunk friend to dance to it, ten in the night freezing our asses off on an empty, drizzling road, singing aloud like madmen, while we waited for the cruiser home.
this blog has changed places across the globe, if the ten people reading this don't already know. and sometimes i might feel stranded here, but then i am the happiest stranded human on earth.
sometimes i don't believe it is possible to miss a piece of geography so much, and the press of crowds swirling round and round busy victoria terminus.
sometimes, sadness is a rising wave and i am only a girl standing endlessly at her window watching endless steel chimneys spin in the wind waiting for someone to arrive with laughter and feeling. most times though i am the luckiest bum in the universe, who has for no reason at all, won the super bumper lotto three times in a row.

my mom's voice has become my alter ego.

i will fold my clothes; i wont drink anything cold. on my way to school each morning, a voice will say i need a warm cardigan, and scold me if i've forgotten to brush my hair again.
don't doze off in the tub don't speak to strangers on roads stop throwing childish tantrums say you're sorry at once nd it's raining for godssake stop wandering alone like a homeless soul

for the record mom, i have picked too many fights, all petty and ungrateful and haven't apologized once. i lack the grace to admit it but i'm sorry all the same and i miss my bathtub and the music we played past midnights most. i should've bought that cardigan instead i got a fancy useless coat; i am more absent minded now than i was back home. i speak to all the strangers i can and i still forget which hand to write and chop onions with and in which to hold a fork
and eight thousand miles away the rains still wait for me to step out the door

Currently Listening Passion and Warfare By Steve Vai for the love of god see related