I'm the patron saint of never was

It has been almost two years since the disease have progressed and shown unwanted symptoms and it has been almost a year since I started therapy and I think I'm doing fine. But then I caught this new disease and it took over my blood stream and it took control of my breathing and it took shelter in my bones. It is sucking the life out of me. And I'm feeding it, I'm feeding it. And I am infatuated with it. It is that good of a disease.

  

We don't need to be friends

Today I feel like India Stoker. Except I am my own India Stoker. (India Stoker doesn't wear short skirts.) I have an extreme obsession with her  at the moment, like she's my new Sylvia Plath. But of course, no one can replace Sylvia in my heart. (Plus P told me she reminds him of me. And god I love Mia Wasikowska.) Anyway, it annoys me that the movie is still hard to find. I badly want to make film stills.

Today I am wearing my mother's blouse, except I do not have my father's belt and it's so sad. My wayfarers are from P. The vintage brooch, I borrowed from my oldest aunt. The dark russet cardigan (which is sadly not shown) was my grandmother's. I thrifted my chartreuse green skirt for twenty five and my black faux suede shoes for a hundred and fifty. It's been a while since I wore shoes that are quite girly. Can you tell that I'm as expensive as your fancy coffee?

   

P.S. For better reference, a dollar is equal to forty, a pound is equal to sixty two, and a euro is equal to fifty three in our currency. My country is third world but I am not.

I love you, but my tits are small.

• It rained so hard yesterday and it has been around thirty degrees for days. And I had mixed feelings about it. Anyway, talking about the weather is not really a good conversation starter. 
• P and I got locked out of the car last night. He left the keys inside, and we spent quite a while trying to open the locks. We opened it eventually with a handy piece of clotheswire and a flashlight. I think we're gonna make good car thieves.
• Somebody told me that I should document what I wear and make a regular post on my blog, but it's tiresome, and for someone like me who's always running after set time, it's quite the bother. Plus my room is ugly. If I get a decent room and a tripod, maybe I could.
• I'm wearing the The Kills shirt I found at a random stall in the mall from two years ago, I think, and my mom's silk skirt from when she was a teen. I had to wear the wood necklace because it's my favorite at the moment. Plus my reliable Doc Martens and a raincoat for the wailing weather.

  

P.S. Hi. It's been a while since I showed my face. Still looks the same. But my hair is longer now.

Taupe

Friday was of vintage shops and old cinema houses. P and I went looking for hand painted movie signage and posters and for the excellent hands who made them. The plan was to buy if they agree to sell some. It is a dying art. Well technology is a good thing but somehow they push such wonderful things to obsolescence. And it's sad. Somehow, these things fall and their creators fall with them. And they are forgotten.

It was a hot afternoon and the heavy traffic wasn't nice either. And in the middle of it all, with the red light screaming we had this Mike and Frank argument that wasn't really an argument. It's more of no one wants to be Frank conversation. You see, we were kind of excited we feel like I'm Mike and He's Frank, and we are The Pickers. Yes, I won and I got to be Mike and he was Frank - him, shaving didn't help at all.

Anyway, the sad thing was we didn't get to buy any signage, but we had the artists' contact information and that was a good progress, I guess. 

We went antique/vintage/Japanese surplus shop hopping. It was so good - the dust, the smell, and also the feeling to want to buy and own everything. But of course it's tricky. It's best and worst of things all in one heap of "garbage" you really need to be good at looking for good stuff. 

We found this vintage leather luggage trunk (that looks like a cross between this and this), I wanted to buy it, but it wasn't in good condition. If only you know how much I was disappointed. And there was also this red leather suitcase, but nah, same thing as the trunk. We're The Pickers, we're not the Kings Of Restoration. (I'm really making so much History Channel reference here, aren't I?)

So we spent a bunch on vinyls. We had to go through four boxes in one store and two boxes in another. There was so much Christian music. Looking for a good vinyl in a box full of it is quite great. We found Peter, Paul and Mary, Cat Stevens, Dolly Parton, West Side Story OST, Ray Charles, A couple of Mozarts and quite a few more. And as we walked out, we were such a happy couple.

I look forward to next Tuesday. We're gonna meet the artist who still paints movie posters for that old cinema. I hope we'll really do. And yeah, I forgot. We went to a warehouse full of both vintage and not so vintage bikes. There were mountains of it. The sight it selfwas so amazing or probably just plain trash for some people. we went looking for a vintage bike that's why we wounded up there and we thought we were lucky and turns out we weren't because some richass man already bought everything. I bet he'll have the bikes restored and he's gonna sell it for a far more expensive price. God, sometimes I really hate rich people.

So we ended the day with having coffee, reading books, sitting on cozy lounge chairs in some unknown coffee shop. It was tiring. But great. 

Here is what I wore last Friday. I especially love my bright yellow green skirt. Everything is thrifted, the skirt, the sweater and the vintage oxfords. My cat-eye glasses is from a vintage shop. Book was lent to me by P. Bet your dinner out is more expensive than this. (Well except for the book and glasses.) 

 

Bad Daughter

I want to drop out of uni. I want to make art. I don't care if artists starve. But I am so horribly limited. And I know - I feel - I should not be.

  

Restless as the weather

• I'm not sure how many miles I have walked my legs were dead. I tried to treat myself for a good cheesecake, but turns out I was so tired I couldn't eat and I was so tired I couldn't read decently. But I managed to run through a couple of pages.
• My mum called me. I told her I wanted to get another tattoo and she never really directly stated her objection, which means I could get a new one, I think. 
• And my non-blood brother came and turned out, he was mimicking me, wearing (almost) the same outfit and shit. Why am I writing in bullet points?

  

I missed my Earl Grey.

It's another one of those days where I play pretend and walk crowded streets and night markets as if I am unfamiliar to the street signs, the lamp posts, and the lefts and rights the way I play pretend that I don't know any of the lines on your palms and the veins on your hands. But I know them all and I just love the idea that I could be lost and you'd come to find me.