short one.
note: if you got here by typing my name into the computer, it’s perfectly normal to e-mail me. i will e-mail you back.
short one probably. very sleepy rabbits.
i woke up in Portsmouth today. been up since 230am thinking about something i saw at the music shop. a green one with orange speckles. two of them, in fact! two of a kind, only two ever made. and all wrapped up in the old Firefox logo or something i guess. but not all around the world. just loose and layered and glowing and lit from the inside.
remember when nothing used to happen? and now, a pelican in piety. or, not now. radiate like the sun, that’s now. the other thing’s a bucket pouring, watering can. that’s before. that can’t carry.
one of the hardest things in life is when you built something in yourself against your nature, and then built something in reverse on top of it to compensate. you must undo the upper layer that you might work through the lower. you’ve got a you emulator running in a not-you emulator running on the you machine. hope you can detangle that because you’re using so much energy to fight with your anxiety to build a lesser version of what’s naturally inside of you.
i spent many days crying mostly tears of joy, or something. i was very happy and laughing and crying and very broken hearted once but laughing about that too. it is so nice to be alive and so lucky. i danced and cried in train station and sang along. on Wednesday i was in a TERRIBLE MOOD but then my favourite thing happened and i was better from then on and still am. and the next day i went to the astro thing and saw some matts and it was nice. and then when i got home i had a very nice time and still am.
i bought a microphone but it was faulty. the music shop asked me to send them a video of it not working. i recorded one. it felt absurd. i emailed saying hey you’re an hour away on the train i’ll see you on Saturday. i can’t get into recording videos of microphones not working. this is not my life. i know my life that’s not it. my life is getting on the big train and it’s several other things too. two cups of water etc. i have a new microphone now, because i got on the big train. and then of course i went to portsea island and addressed the water. the hotel smelled like grandma’s house.
my eyes are closed and i’m not really been very sure what i am typing. very little sleep just an couple of hours here and there. every night awake at 3am thinking thinking about things i’ve seen and what they might look like again. sleepy rabbits. sleepy rabbits. i will sleep in this hotel room now at 7pm and in the morning i will drink an iced latte with a short of collagen and i will go home or buy an epiphone hummingbird and then go home.
did i miss anything? other than the obvious?
there are so many
negative numbers
in my bank account app
why
are they being
so fucking negativei went to bournemouth. it’s nice there. it’s a seaside town but doesn’t have english small town energy. is it because of the universities? really nice. let’s move there and get too many pets.
also, i don’t know if anyone has told them about the last couple of decades? they have high streets, with shops on them. and multiple malls. they have a mall with an HMV in it. there were kids in there wearing black and browsing for posters. i looked up at a billboard and it said “Playstation 5 Pro is better on WiFi 7”. it was my first time hearing about either of those things. “i’m out of touch with the relentless march of technology,” i thought. a few metres up the road i found a 2000s themed bar that may have been named after a klaxons song.
the moon was pretty, nearly full. i walked down by the beach and sang to the sea until i cried. snot on my face and sand in my eyes i returned to my hotel. in the morning as i was finishing breakfast a girl asked if she could sit with me. i’m just about to leave, i told her, i’d feel so rude you’d sit down and i’d stand up. note: i was sitting at a 2 person table. she said okay:)) and sat nearby at a 4 person table. a dude came in, she said “what’s our room number?” and he said 312 as he pulled a chair out beside her. she turned to me and said have a nice day, and i told her have a nice day too. and he looked at me like he’d like me to be dead and he’d like to be the one in charge of it. i popped back to my room, lay down a couple vocal takes (certified banger) and gathered myself for a walk to a nearby coffee shop that appeared from the photos on maps to have loveramics ceramics. on the stairwell we met again. she said i’m ann and i said ann? and she said anne-marie. i said hello anne-marie, i’m chee:)). she asked what’s your plan for today? i told her get a coffee and make music. she said it is supposed to be a lovely day. i said lucky us. she put her hand out, nervously, and said “it is nice to meet you.” i took her hand, she squeezed my hand, i squeezed back. i asked her “you good, anne-marie?” because our eyes were wet and she needed something. she said “i will be…” and let go, and turned up the stairs and said “i will be” to the stairs.
that was 8am.
i got a coffee. and another. back to the hotel. made some music. certified banger. out to the shops, the beach, back to the hotel, make a little music. i spent a couple days there like that. bought a replacement horseshoe for my lip because that one fell out when i was talking to erica hu and maybe i ate it? well. it was from a place i’ve ordered jewelery from before, i didn’t realize it was in bournemouth. but there it was.
there’s an incongruence between who i am, and the patterns i have. my whole personality has changed, the way I view the world, who I am inside. about half a year ago i woke up happier, more patient, kinder, less cynical. but conversationally i still find myself walking down old paths, and then i’m in the middle of a sentence where i feel super yucky like i don’t belong in the sentence. i haven’t figured out yet how to escape these sentences. hopefully the feeling of yucky regret will teach me not to get involved in them at all. and a few recent events indicate that I’m giving off the energy of someone safe and helpful, but I don’t yet understand how to respond when people are drawn to that. because it’s so unexpected for people to come to me for that. i’m so used to being off-putting.
i enjoyed riding waterloo & city.
oh wait was this also the week me & mr went to visit ac at ual? damn, oh i should write about that. but i’ve already got the satisfying feeling of having finished the entry. well that was just a lovely fucking day, and it’s so cool there, and they’re so fucking lovely, and i’m excited about the future.
okay. a little nap i think. and then on easter monday i will wake up and i will make several more certified bangers. or, at least one. polish up a few more. and file my tax return. and spend several hundred pounds on pizza. i wandered up to yard sale to meet them and have a little chitter-chatter because i think it’s nice to meet people in person if you do business with them. it was a great chch. they’re really nice in there.
okay. a little nap i think. and by nap i mean a full night’s sleep. the album is coming together, so i’ll take it apart.
hey
a cough that sounded like somebody shovelling gravel in a viaduct, and i started coming down with something.
lay still, ate yoghurt. ate grilled cheese. saw many, many people. the moment I cherished most was the end of something. wish i didn’t have to split. ate grilled cheese. ate yoghurt. lay still.
i’m quite comfortable with asymmetry. i think it’s easy to mistake symmetry for balance, but we’re made of different stuff. denser here, more space there. different stuff. it’s like, you know… splitting a bill evenly could mean each of us paying the same amount or each paying a fraction relative to what we have to spare. the bills were 30/70 because the income was 70/30. yeah, that’s another way to do it. and i have this much time, and this much energy, and this much to give. and you have that much and that much and that much. and that’s okay, that’s good.
i’m going to go on holiday tomorrow. anyone got any holidays going? maybe i’ll go to Dingle. that sounds cold, but you know that little spot where your feet are on the green green grass? and in front of you is the sea? and to the left of you is a sand dune? and a fella from Cork says “why you put a biscuit in my shoo?” and he says “i woke up in the sea and all you know, and i start falling over, but i’m in the sea so i start falling over real slow like?” and rona climbs into your tent and she puts the rimmel no.1 on you and kisses you and it changes your life? and you taste buckfast and you taste poitín and you smell like grass and mud and fire and salt water and tawny port? and she sang ninja turtles, and you first saw her all pixelated on a video on her best friend’s Nokia 5500 Sport? all pale fair skin and black hair and green eyes and sleeves pulled up so only the fingers and thumbs poke out and she sang ninja turtles and her best friend thinks that the two of you should fall in love and you do but she doesn’t? well, she does but it wears off quick? and in the car on the way home you glance out the window and there’s a road sign on the post and it’s an arrow pointing down and it says “NOW”? and that’s the first time you taste Buckfast. and that’s the first time you taste Poitín. and there was plenty of port and plenty of gin. but never warmed up on the cooling stones before. and never in the sea before.
anyway no that sounds cold. cold and wet and grey. could go the other way. eurostar. coach to portugal. could go to scotland. bournemouth. plymouth. redruth. liverpool. swansea. walton-on-the-naze. whitstable. but everywhere has all these significances, need a place with no significance. off to heaven, close the curtain. my skin smells different, can only mean one thing. if those ripples getting closer are echoes after all.
I’m still a little sick. and I look it. and I feel it. but my main pervasive feeling is this hope and this certainty that this thing that I love and I believe is something meaningful. and I’ll pack kate by kate moss in the peach totepack with the citrus neo and — damn, I yet again promised a sort of victorian christmas spectre of my dead grandfather that I’d get some before-midnight-sleep and have blown right through the deadline again. I hate breaking promises. especially to uninvited phantasms who come in through the gaps to haunt my kitchen cupboards, because if I can get them on my side maybe I can get them to show me how to slip between to the never taking place. anyway. glad to meet you, can’t wait to see the rest.
omg renata flores is playing in london next month
who is coming me?
https://dice.fm/partner/tickets/event/bbxb7k-renata-flores-24th-apr-the-jazz-cafe-london-tickets
please text