it may not always be so, and i said

i am still thinking of how his lips purse for

a quaver of a breath

then they part and his voice

fluffy like watercolour paper

with edges only barely audible

i think about how his eyes dart before holding my

searching searching gaze

then it connects and breaks.

i dare not love him

he has his lover

and we are so unaffected, unaffected

how dare he be so

no longer affected

hello it has been a while

"how dare he be so unaffected. how dare he, how dare he."

i have been very unaffected ...

so unaffected that i haven't been drawing

from my anguish into drawings.

does this mean she is happy

that her dreams came true and it has all been solved resolved, that i've found the end point, where does this leave me?

i took a long bus ride today, the first in 6 months. i watched the streets of london pass by me and i realised that this place is my home the dust has settled this is where i will be for a very long time.

he told me I was stacking words

why am i here

why am i in love with you

why don't words mean anything any more

and pictures never told me any thing.

who knows what when where we will be when we wait

this is the map of london underground.

maps serve to create a spatial representation to aid a reader's visualisation of a real, 3-dimensional space. with reality comes another dimension: the dimension of time. when i look at this map i see the reality of london inching ever closer, and with that, the distance and time between myself and my future becomes a little smaller.

there is no shame in want

i am struggling to pick up water colour but i still paint like i do with oil paints ... i should probably find a book to read mean while

insomewaysofar i want to have a lover, regular sex, kisses, hugs

some one enveloping my back and sharing my bed

and no, I don't want a person i cannot picture a person with abundant opportunities for getting jaded and cynical

let her be a dream and let her fade upon waking i dont want to know depth let it always have a gentle touch of forgetfulness

no one was supposed to replace messalina

i went to the red light district 2 days ago and saw many street walkers. i am always fascinated by women who embody femininity ... inside me there is this desire to join them??? if only to fathom the depths of my womanhood

i met carina who is a trans vestite and she was very beautiful and lovely with the most delicate face structure and elongated limbs and full lips. i could not speak to her because i was in this skin this young virginal skin and how does one speak to young virgins? but i am not one inside but i am only as much as i look like. carina was beautiful but carina i am sorry i wanted to know if you loved your mother ...

recently ive been somewhat afraid

feel some what stuck and lost...i am kind of uncertain if london and media is the right way to go ... life is drawing me inexorably towards its injustices

i dont know / i know