96.

When you read this I’ll be in LA 

I don’t know where, exactly – in the last final, dwindling days of vacation I’m sure I’ll try to make the most of the sun. I’m sure I’ll be on a beach, or in Little Tokyo, or getting upset about things that don’t matter at all. I’ll be catching the sun from the window of a car and thinking, already, about all the things that I’ll lose come winter. I won’t have LA to look to, that’s for sure, and I won’t have the freckles or energy that I have in July. Not that I have much then, either – you know my ice-cold hands.

I don’t know if I’ll be sick of my friends or shedding tears over the flight back home. What I do know – what I hope I know – is that I’ll be over it, not obsessively wondering whether you care where I am. Not thinking again about every interaction, every breath, every glance. Not reduced again to a wreck, a person that I never thought I was; how can you see me shiver like that and still respect my strength?

LA is so far from here, and distance is strength

But what of me when I am home? When the blood-stained river, when the Angeles mountains, when the powerlines that I love to obstruct my view are long behind me. Who will I become? I’ll be cold, I’ll be tired – but will I think of you then? Trying to angle my days to make our paths collide. I do not like who I am when I am obsessive, that much is true. If I think of you still when I’ve a thousand palm trees to contend with, I do not know myself as well as I thought I did.

When you read this I’ll be in LA – if you care to read it at all. 

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Prague

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September 20, 2016 · 10:35 pm

95.

It’s so hard to be poetic
when my only obsession is so shameful
when, urgently, I long to burn it down
my own home, and yours, too

When your kindness, simple hands
can be misinterpreted
by an obsessive heart

When I know you – not at all
but I’ve known a sweetness like yours
and over, and over
taken it too far again

Given more than I’m getting, again

Is it exhaustion? It’s never love
for I have mine, and you’ve yours
so leave me to wonder
and soon enough, dear, burn out

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NDSM Wharf, Amsterdam

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September 12, 2016 · 6:30 pm

ca

I’ve been busy since last year, I’ve been cold
my blue fingers smash and scream
through our home, my fickle heart
is not enough, and I need restarting
I need my stomach to stop aching

5,000 miles, eleven hours
but near enough that I can feel
my shoulders start to freckle
my chest start to thaw
my feet grounded in the sand

I can only hope that the West Coast
breaks a spell I’ve put on myself

But what of us when I am home?
What of me – poor, out of love, alone
trying not to shatter glass

I just need California to live in my chest
to set me up for a year without her

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94.

People may grow, but they rarely change
and sure, I’ve seen more
I am more complete than in 2007
but still – I obsessively record and
I panic and I plan
and I snap/worst case scenario
and still I find the most solace
stealing glasses, licking red wine lips
laughing on a cobbled street
and okay, I am safer
but I am the same
come winter, you’ll find me
and I will be dead again

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What have you been up to?

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The picture isn’t relevant, it’s just cute, so forgive me.

So, aside from a lengthy European update and some mysterious poems, you probably have no idea what tf I’ve been up to over the last few months. Or you’ve not, because you just want me to spin my dumb words and not be a person, which is fine too. But regardless.

For a while I was working for a media company and writing freelance a lot alongside it. I was busy. I wrote 75,000 words of a book that I don’t hate and started writing for Dazed and Hello Giggles, among other magazines. I then lost that job. I was pretty devastated, briefly, but despite some ugliness it’s been working out pretty well. The day I lost the job I was offered two commissions for Dazed. Two days later I was asked to write about Wild Life Festival in Brighton for Crack Magazine. I did just that over that weekend; enjoying the press perks, loving Ice Cube, and getting silly drunk in Shoreham.

On the Monday (a week after getting fired, aye) my partner saw a job listing for a Brighton-based digital agency he wanted to work for – only this listing was for content, so I hastily applied. We had a meeting the next day for a four-day freelance job, they didn’t interview anyone else, and I got on with it.

Six weeks later I was still there, doing a content job for Nickelodeon and falling in love with everyone I worked with. No, really, they’re gems. For all of that time I was still writing for other websites, and at the end of my Nick contract Tilt asked me to write content for them and hunt out cool stuff for them to attend. I, obviously, said yes please.

(Brexit also happened, my racist fam fell out with me, my money is worth nothing.)

My friend Brianna came to England at the end of July, and as you well know we headed off to Europe to have the best time ever – but I was still working hard. I went to the VR cinema in Amsterdam on behalf of Tilt, got offered work experience with The Debrief at Bauer, and did some more work for Dazed. It was essentially not really a holiday, but it was cool. I live to work.

Essentially the second Bri left England I got my head back down to work on stuff for Tilt and Dazed. I worked over the weekend and started at The Debrief on the Monday, hanging out in the Bauer offices and writing news/content for the site with a bunch of really lovely girls. It was exhausting getting to London every day, but journalism is my big dream and obviously has been for a while. I learned a lot, wrote a lot, and had a couple of exciting run-ins. I also saw Motion City Soundtrack’s last UK show during this time, which was sad because I am of course Queen Emo. It was awesome, I got a guitar pick, I felt fourteen. I then went to Sticky Mike’s Frog Bar to drink and scream Brand New and swing off ceilings with my best pals.

I spent the Bank Holiday weekend in my hometown of Leicester, aka my least fave. But, my Grandad on my Dad’s side was having the worst time, so I had to go and hang out with him. Which I enjoyed a lot, because he is the best and does everything for me. I saw some friends, went to a super cool DJ BBQ or something for my best friend, drove around, went to a skatepark. Again, I’m fourteen. We’re the nostalgia generation, sorry.

The second I got back I was back in at Tilt, seeing some pals I haven’t in weeks and cracking on with important work. I attended Björk Digital with them and we got a bit merry and enjoyed the Icelandic goodness. It was also my nine-year anniversary. I’m now trying to plan my life and finish some work ahead of my trip to Vegas and LA in less than a week, where I may also be working. I will try to line up some posts for then, but I am so beyond excited – if I can only get everything together for five days from now.

Essentially, getting fired was the best thing that could possibly have happened to me. My life is incredibly financially unstable, but cool things have been happening nonstop since June and I’m happier than I have ever been – which might not be saying much, but whatever. Journalism – namely film journalism – and writing in general have always been all I wanted to do, and I am so grateful that I get to do it. Sorry if that means I’m around less, but know that I am really fucking stoked.

To keep up with my adventures when I’m not around, follow me on Twitter and Instagram x

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