i love beverly hills

i left my heart in california

so pick me. choose me. love me

ode to a sailor

fredrik, i never wanted flowers. i wanted a best friend with whom i could do the silliest things. run in the street going nowhere, tell secrets, imagine scenarios and take photographs, go to the zoo to see the penguins. i don't want to be in that love everybody talks about, in that love you talked about. i want this.
it was very difficult to let the idea of you go (i really really thought i was going to wait for you at the station and that you were going to take me ice skating), but it’s happening now. i can breathe!
i'm sorry for saying goodbye the way we did, you know, the last image i have of us in my head is of you being all cosy with a girl who isn't me and me sitting on the opposite sofa with your best friend whispering in my ear that he wanted to fuck me.

at central st martins by me

toto, i have a feeling we're not in kansas anymore. we must be over the rainbow!

it's not funny to do things that i used to with you on my own. i can't believe so many things and so many years have passed since i first saw you at my door in the IFSC. i miss our house in dublin and everything that happened when we lived there. it was good being in london too but very different and not the same as ireland. sometimes when i'm on the tube i think about dublin and i smile a lot. i hate that place but i love to think about it. i miss michael and margaret and our rabbits and my kitchen all dirty with carrot juice everywhere including the walls, popcorn and the hills, samsara and the boys with cute noses. i miss being embarrassed because i kissed someone i shouldn’t the night before.