adoration

i like how ugly it is.

failed mission.

fuck the Grammy artists, fuck the Nobel prize winners.
fuck the high standing politicians. fuck the practised philosophers.
fuck the tv presenters. fuck the producers and their directors.
fuck the models. fuck the designers who use them.
fuck the girl on facebook with 166 picture likes.
fuck the guy who's fucking her.

bitter my dear?.. the feeling of inadequacy is a bitch

idyllic/idiotic

fuck it im going to barcelona...
well, if i had the money. of course i dont, so i'll just procrastinate a bit more about the life i wish i could have, whilst slowly destorying my chance of getting it.
oh the fucking irony.

maybe

i just need to return to civilisation and accept the facts.

STOP

ultimate competition

i may be suffering paranoia.

but walking out in public you involve yourself in a stranger cometition. this may sound stupid, or you might know exactly what i mean. which of you is the most successful stranger? it is completely vein, almost entirly based on looks/clothing/possesions/figure, but then that extra something im still struggling to work out, it lies somewhere between confidence and uncaring, if the stranger holds this, they win, instantly.

listlessness

if my thoughts could be projected onto a screen it would be continuous lists; lists of what homework i need to do, lists of things i need to pay for, lists of jobs i could apply for, lists of jobs that turned me down, lists of things i want to tell people, lists of people i cant trust, lists of the food i've eaten, lists of music that needs to go onto my ipod. i could go on, but there's no point, this post is just becoming another list. and i think i have enough of them going right now for someone slightly obsession compulsive, my head is a fucking mess... i can't find my devil's spoke