One post a month

I truly have lived up to the fact I'm a lazy half-arsed blogger. However, in the most self-righteous way, I don't think I owe anyone an explanation. After all, I have hardly 2 people who's nosy about my life anymore.

My life, eh? Sometimes I wonder why I'm so dramatic, at some other point, I think I'm very much boring. Either way, Melvin is still the bomb!

I don't know if I'm going to be in London anymore. I might go back home for a year or so. I might go elsewhere, where a flight that cost £200 can take me. I might just be suicidal and cut myself. 

Unfortunately, I'm too content with life to cut myself. 

This past year has been a long break. A stagnant year. In a way, I'm happy. But in another, I'm not.  Whatever the hell it was, it's gonna be a year now. 

But I don't want to go back home.

Melvin

Happy Birthday!

Sorry this came in late.

xoxo

Sophie, I still heart you!

And so, I finally went to watch the pop Godmother of Fairyland (don't mind the pun!), Sophie Ellis Bextor at the biggest fairy playground in London, GAY.

My feet may have suffered aftermath of 4" kill but who am I kidding? 

I fucking loved it! For years, I've adored her secretly, maybe mentioned in the closet with my fags. Infact, in disappointment of her third album, I lashed out right here! Well, I can never hate this woman, gawd I WANT TO BE HER!

You can take me home or I'll murder you on the dancefloor. *faints*

And I met a Patrick Wolf look-a-like, he said, "Well those shoes must be killing you. You are DEFINITELY a fag hag. So hot!"

I'm so on my way to become the next Godmother of the Fairyland. meh

Windows in Amsterdam

I fell in love.

Indie Disco Rock N Roll, baby!

You know those kids who wear skinny jeans, plaid shirts, pointy shoes and have wonky hips? Those Shoreditch twats. Ok, maybe not the Shoreditch twats but you get what I mean.

Friendly Fires is now my new ice cream on Sunday. They got tunes so addictive that will make your hips go wonky. My friend Tim thinks that music for the 'camp' crew. ha!

Sorry, I haven't been blogging much lately. I think I owe everyone an explanation if I've yet again become an alcoholic or a lazy half-arsed bitch, or err... a pervert. Fear not, I've not become any of those. Recently, I had a chat with a friend who made me realise how much I've missed out on myself ever since I came to London. (Don't mind me thinking out loud about myself)

Has it changed me? I don't quite think so. Or am I still the same? I don't quite think so. 

Perhaps, it's my 9 to 5 job is to blame. Perhaps, it's my lack of motivation to blame. Perhaps, my flatmate's to blame. 

I don't feel as if I wasted a year. And then, again I feel as if time as just flown by without me doing anything properly.  

But I know I needed this break. London has let me be the person I've always been. I don't have to hide anything (yes especially with getting high part. tee hee hee!).

As fast as this city comes and goes, I realised that the beauty of it, London is very forgiving. It might be the sombre cousin of New York. But it still has got some life to it. It's dark, grey and gloomy, occasionally it gets happy with a little sunshine. I love it. Makes me appreciate the sun a little more. 

And it seems, some bloggers I've known for years have stopped blogging. Well, I don't blame them. Somehow this whole blogging shits been a bit pretentious. Not for cool kids like us. 

Maybe for those Shoreditch twats I suppose. haha.

I promise, this summer will be good. 

Come back soon ok? 

Hello, I miss you?

I really do. 

It's not the same, I know. 

I don't write to you anymore and you don't seem to care.

It's been a while that we laughed about someone's looks.

Or my huge nose.

Maybe I've been drifting.

In a land of uncertainty, of stagnant-ness, and laziness.

And you don't miss me anymore.

I need to do something new.

But he's not gonna come along.

All it is, has nothing to do with anyone.

All it is, a man for himself and nothing more.

Quote of the week.

Debauchery is an understatement.