tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7892558483154148712024-03-05T23:46:13.203+13:00photographs & delusionChristiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08814240941174425815noreply@blogger.comBlogger384125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-789255848315414871.post-79231321291260864372011-08-24T21:58:00.004+12:002011-08-24T22:05:11.976+12:00sik & sixteenBeing sick sucks. Sick on the day I was to be licensed to drive, aching on the day I wasn't missing yoga. Cotton handkerchief. Too hot, too cold. Hoping for that one-day kind of illness.<div>
<br /></div><div>I want school, I need school. So many things happening at once. Stuff to do. Pressure on. Get things done.</div><div>
<br /></div><div>I'll indulge in retail therapy. But for someone else. I get paid tomorrow, in the money again. Maybe some left to spend on myself, on my body that aches and groans like un-oiled doors and makes me ill but without the usual symptoms.</div><div>
<br /></div><div>Must sleep. Getting up early is hard in winter.</div><div>Spring is coming. Birthdays, anniversaries, parties, sun, energy. All headed towards me slowly with the end of the year, looming with it's expectations and pressures.</div>Christiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08814240941174425815noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-789255848315414871.post-2104072748825243612011-06-18T23:38:00.003+12:002011-06-18T23:57:19.940+12:00pheremeralno makeup and here i can type all the words i want to type ears hurt on the inside did i clean them too well? this time it's too strong maybe the numbness made it easy to do<div><br /></div><div>pants fall down not mine</div><div>cow print stool perched stamps on hands</div><div>tiny flora collapsing</div><div>fake nails click click click letters forming words</div><div><br /></div><div>clever</div><div>naughty stop this mindlessness</div><div>what is he doing this time? out of my control ignore it no business of mine</div><div>stood up hidden</div><div>nothing but a shirt and underwear in front of the whole damn crowd this time</div><div>stop whispering in that girl's ear she's mine not yours you're mine not hers</div><div><br /></div><div>it's time for fleetwood mac</div><div>i'm not stevie tonight no sleeves just jeans</div><div>ears itch like the alone edges of seventeen</div><div>why is he gone i ponder again i forget to think about important things sometimes</div><div>like a bell in the night no bells heard here it's click lick nails sometimes a shiver</div><div><br /></div><div>i think i have to find you now</div><div>i think i'll go even though it's this song</div><div>thump floor not enough need more</div><div>hands unfurling and this is the one where we think</div>Christiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08814240941174425815noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-789255848315414871.post-28132527645220494942011-05-17T23:23:00.002+12:002011-05-17T23:27:36.457+12:00now i've got you in the undertow<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >what's the matter?</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >you hurt yourself?</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >why you wanna blame me for your troubles?</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >you better learn your lesson yourself</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">tonight i'm not warm enough in bed and the wind howls and conversation exists in the room next to me but only through the power of science and technology and i don't like space i just want him to stop this</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">i can sleep if i want to, right?</div><div style="text-align: center;">except now you've gone and made it so i can't</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">too much space</div><div style="text-align: center;">unsaid words</div><div style="text-align: center;">come</div><div style="text-align: center;">back</div>Christiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08814240941174425815noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-789255848315414871.post-57070828855834070452011-05-05T21:32:00.002+12:002011-05-05T21:38:34.666+12:00what katy did next<a href="http://26.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lkprtyPmgo1qzzchwo1_500.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 683px;" src="http://26.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lkprtyPmgo1qzzchwo1_500.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Very gorgeous.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ></span>Tomorrow I get on an aeroplane and fly to Auckland and stay in a lovely little part of the massive city called Devonport, with my lovely aunt. The next night I have a ticket to Katy Perry, and the next day it's Mother's Day and I'm going out for breakfast with family.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Design work and lovely words. My fat black cat is lazing behind me and I'm sketching four of my teeth with long creepy roots. Today was nice and sunny but I'm always too tired.</div>Christiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08814240941174425815noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-789255848315414871.post-68773370939973201082011-05-03T17:04:00.002+12:002011-05-03T19:19:21.393+12:00kitty purry<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; ">I'm going to see Katy Perry on Saturday.</span></div><a href="http://30.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lh4pxkfZbi1qb2vqlo1_500.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 480px; height: 360px;" src="http://30.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lh4pxkfZbi1qb2vqlo1_500.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Today was another bleary day of nothings but I have smiles and tickles. Food is a really lovely thing right now, but so is playing fun games on Wii Fit.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >He's usually here, to hold my hand with his cool fingers. We chat and bicker about little meaningless things in the warm.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div>Christiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08814240941174425815noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-789255848315414871.post-56991283779527850892011-05-02T21:35:00.003+12:002011-05-02T22:09:17.147+12:00les feuilles mortes<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Today I got up and it wasn't very hard. I ate two slices of homemade bread with butter and I went to school in my lovely fluffy coat. I was cold there, and things had changed but I ate pumpkin soup and I was happy. Kicking leaves and holding hands between classes. Health class was good, questioning values and beliefs and grinning at thoughts of what is mine. Hometime was a pick-up and a top-up in the rain, and home was a warm bed and kisses, chicken pies and more homemade bread. I watched Nowhere Boy, disappointed by the lack of rock n' roll lifestyle but brought to tears by the sad ending.<div><br /></div><div>I have adjusted to this new city I live in. I'm getting my learner's license soon.</div><div><br /></div><div><img src="http://26.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lkkc1zL57j1qzzchwo1_500.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 500px;" border="0" alt="" /></div>Christiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08814240941174425815noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-789255848315414871.post-49568774298149342542011-04-22T11:20:00.003+12:002011-04-22T11:32:37.764+12:00friday the 22ndAll I need is to exist, and for others to exist alongside me, and for my shower not to shake when I'm in it.<div><br /></div><div>I'm going to a french party today. A little bell rings over my head, various niceties surround me but my bedroom's a mess and I can't stand it. Why does the roof creak? It's disillusioning. </div><div><br /></div><div>I need somebody to french plait my hair. Soon I will touch my toes easily.</div>Christiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08814240941174425815noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-789255848315414871.post-4329110730079433182011-04-10T22:41:00.001+12:002011-04-10T22:43:04.971+12:00ahh what the fuck<div><br /></div>Christiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08814240941174425815noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-789255848315414871.post-90846233406520459852011-04-09T18:10:00.002+12:002011-04-09T18:11:31.996+12:00emptylonely tonight, but not dead. where are the parties? i'm sixteen i have all of this to get out of my system<div><br /></div><div>i'll sew myself a pencil case</div>Christiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08814240941174425815noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-789255848315414871.post-45349927389140135792011-04-03T15:17:00.003+12:002011-04-03T15:24:21.770+12:00a little self-lovea little self-love<div>pampering, paint my toenails, indulge in lotions, bathe in softly-scented water</div><div><br /></div><div>repair myself, wash myself of negativity and bad happenings. i feel new, clean, soft, fresh, and healthy</div><div><br /></div><div>it's okay to eat at mcdonald's every once in a while. i'm 52kg, i stay the same. eat and be merry, i say. sleep and keep yourself clean. we all need a little self-love right now</div>Christiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08814240941174425815noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-789255848315414871.post-87064357303643081222010-12-21T00:44:00.000+13:002010-12-21T00:45:26.648+13:00arrive> <style type="text/css"> p.p1 {margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica} p.p2 {margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; min-height: 14.0px} </style> <p class="p1">keep your moonstone mind</p> <p class="p1">on the tides</p> <p class="p1">do we remain young in the eyes of the blind?</p> <p class="p1">don't speak out of turn</p> <p class="p1">for you might learn to die</p> <p class="p1">the fire is wild</p> <p class="p2"><br /></p> <p class="p1">brown eyes</p> <p class="p1">and they're better than mine</p> <p class="p1">i can sleep with the night</p> <p class="p1">she's alive in mind's eye</p> <p class="p2"><br /></p> <p class="p1">she's fucking up mine</p> <p class="p1">he's creeping in her</p> <p class="p1">sleep like a snake</p> <p class="p1">make it no care</p> <p class="p2"><br /></p> <p class="p1">she's taller and brighter and burns more than me</p> <p class="p1">lady of the shadow-past</p> <p class="p1">calls jealousy</p> <p class="p2"><br /></p> <p class="p1">cursed ring on his finger</p> <p class="p1">not mine, nor a witch</p> <p class="p1">keep sane, keep simple, keep clean</p>Christiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08814240941174425815noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-789255848315414871.post-27827667321106081142010-12-06T12:44:00.001+13:002010-12-06T12:44:44.379+13:00Help me out, I might need it when I'm dead.Christiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08814240941174425815noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-789255848315414871.post-51278912823073578942010-12-06T12:35:00.002+13:002010-12-06T12:42:10.894+13:00There's this new house that I sit in, alone, indoors when it's nice outside and I want to swim but I can't (what if I drown?) and it's way too hot today and none of my clothes look right, and I have commitments and appointments but isn't it easier to forget them all? I forget them all for a second and I eat and eat, and soon I'll walk to the crystal shop because I need some more magic but for now it's much easier to sit here in minimal garments and <b>waste time.</b><div><b><br /></b></div><div>It's much too easy to pretend to be bored. I have plenty of things to do, why won't I do them?</div><div><br /></div><div>Someone will be here soon. Then this faux loneliness will disperse like fire...when it's just...begun ...to rain.</div>Christiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08814240941174425815noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-789255848315414871.post-57369519527729847862010-10-25T23:17:00.001+13:002010-10-25T23:18:44.092+13:00loving life, living love. every now and then i scream but it's okay, he's here to fix it all and i've always got my singing voiceChristiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08814240941174425815noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-789255848315414871.post-16038586191391063762010-10-07T00:04:00.002+13:002010-10-07T00:06:07.852+13:00newI don't much care anymore for all that, all you people with your ideals. I want to be a crystal queen, gypsy woman with long hair. I don't need your perfection. I just need love and happiness and I have both.Christiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08814240941174425815noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-789255848315414871.post-75314821169086351172010-09-14T22:03:00.001+12:002010-09-14T22:04:51.131+12:00MY NEW FASHION~ BLOGWITH GEORGIA & CAMERAS<div><br /></div><div><a href="http://velvetbitchez.blogspot.com/">http://velvetbitchez.blogspot.com/</a></div><div><a href="http://velvetbitchez.blogspot.com/">http://velvetbitchez.blogspot.com/</a></div><div><a href="http://velvetbitchez.blogspot.com/">http://velvetbitchez.blogspot.com/</a></div><div><a href="http://velvetbitchez.blogspot.com/">http://velvetbitchez.blogspot.com/</a></div>Christiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08814240941174425815noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-789255848315414871.post-79140964193282320512010-08-29T22:04:00.003+12:002010-08-29T22:12:12.606+12:00LYRICS FROM A 7-10 YEAR OLD CHRISTIEI LOOK AT YOU, YOU FORCE A SMILE<br />AND I KNEW WE WERE IN LINE<br />FOR A TICKET TO OUR BREAKUP<br />I DIDN'T HAVE THE SENSE TO WHINE<br /><br />(chorus)<br />I WANNA BE ANYWHERE THAT'S NOT BLUE<br />I WANNA BE ANYWHERE WITH YOU<br />BUT NOW WE'RE BROKEN UP<br />THAT AIN'T GONNA HAPPEN<br />NO IT AIN'T GONNA HAPPEN NO MORE<br /><br />YOU SAT ME DOWN AT A TABLE<br />TOLD ME OUR RELATIONSHIP WAS BAD<br />I KNEW THAT THIS WAS COMING<br />AND I DIDN'T FEEL SO SAD<br />(AND I BLURTED OUT)<br /><br />(chorus)<br />I WANNA BE ANYWHERE THAT'S NOT BLUE<br />I WANNA BE ANYWHERE WITH YOU<br />BUT NOW WE'RE BROKEN UP<br />THAT AIN'T GONNA HAPPEN<br />NO IT AIN'T GONNA HAPPEN NO MORE<br /><br />(bridge)<br />THEN I RAN AWAY LOOKING AT MY SHOES<br />AND I KNEW I HAD A CASE OF THE BLUES<br />BUT THERE WAS ONE THING I KNEW<br /><br />(chorus)<br />I WANNA BE ANYWHERE THAT'S NOT BLUE<br />I WANNA BE ANYWHERE WITH YOU<br /> BUT NOW WE'RE BROKEN UP<br /> THAT AIN'T GONNA HAPPEN<br /> NO IT AIN'T GONNA HAPPEN NO MORE<br /><br />(Yes, I wrote this in my childhood when I was about 10?)Christiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08814240941174425815noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-789255848315414871.post-31946416575187338842010-08-16T21:28:00.002+12:002010-08-16T21:30:58.794+12:00quel dommagesometimes i forget myself amongst teenage dreams<br />occasionally i can't remember<br />my mere fifteen years<br /><br />i am often seventeen, eighteen, twenty-one<br />i am speaking words for age<br />spitting imagery, je regrette<br /><br />i live like worlds on fire<br />like trees in wind<br />like dreams in kisses<br />like born-again<br />til death's part<br /><br />often i speak in prayers, tears<br />quel dommage, begin again<br /><br />i am planting hope in hidden eyes<br />i am pushing smoke from my braids<br /><br />it is wishing, dreaming hoping<br />quel dommage, je regretteChristiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08814240941174425815noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-789255848315414871.post-6418723368425416932010-08-08T21:17:00.000+12:002010-08-08T21:18:26.987+12:00I CUT MY FRINGE SO TINY D: WHY IS BLOGSPOT DEAD?Christiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08814240941174425815noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-789255848315414871.post-83931851682143032642010-08-04T00:29:00.002+12:002010-08-04T00:31:23.032+12:00i'm little alice in a velveteen bow<br />i run around in clouds<br />where no boy can touch me<br /><br />blink of batted lashes<br />my pocket watching is ticking<br />love is almost gone<br /><br />but little alice doesn't mind<br />she dashes through the skies<br />no boy touches her heartChristiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08814240941174425815noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-789255848315414871.post-81629376184030801512010-08-03T18:28:00.001+12:002010-08-03T18:28:24.455+12:00draw a blankblank day blank mind blank heartChristiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08814240941174425815noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-789255848315414871.post-26970228014197572482010-08-01T17:53:00.003+12:002010-08-01T17:58:54.497+12:00thisIt's the empty, tired Sunday evening feeling.<br /><br />It's a little nostalgia, a little loneliness, but it's also a little contentedness. It's a little of the bruises on my legs, a little of the nonsensical texts on my phone, a little of not knowing what will come next. Not knowing where I stand. Where <span style="font-style: italic;">we</span> stand. It's fine, it's okay, it's alright.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">and it's contagi-uh-uh-uh-ous</span>Christiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08814240941174425815noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-789255848315414871.post-77830682445303301492010-08-01T01:04:00.002+12:002010-08-01T01:04:55.506+12:00blink blink each time a little heavier<br />beautiful blonde and perfect brunettttttttte<br />lovely<br />how lovelyChristiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08814240941174425815noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-789255848315414871.post-62294863975276664382010-07-29T22:15:00.003+12:002010-07-29T22:23:01.768+12:00WOW I AM CRAZYSome people do a wonderful job of fucking up their lives. Me, I do a pretty good job of making mine alright. I love my life and I love the control I have over it and even though most of the time it's not a wild crazy ball of a time, I don't mind, I have other things I could do.<br /><br />So how dare you come along like this and gain this control over my life and my love of life? IT'S NOT OKAY! You're not allowed this kind of reign over how things are because it's my life and not yours. Not yours...not yours...nachos. Someone lock me up, quick.Christiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08814240941174425815noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-789255848315414871.post-17846057636348561552010-07-24T14:39:00.003+12:002010-07-24T14:42:20.191+12:00This day is GREAT.I fucking love it when I go to have a shower and the water's cold. It's awesome when I go to take a spa instead and the cover is broken and crazy shit and it takes me 10 minutes in the freezing cold just to get it off. Even better when the rash on my neck stings like mad from the chlorine, and I'm not clean or even acceptable-looking.Christiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08814240941174425815noreply@blogger.com0