It's been too long (and now I'm gone).

I discovered Daria, courtesy of Ellie:)

JUST A PICTURE TO REMIND YOU OF SUMMER IN THESE WINTER MONTHS.
Off to Edinburgh where it's minus 11 degrees. D:
xoxo

Billy Bragg

Yes. I met Billy Bragg today along with a couple of friends at a debate in the Royal Opera House (THB an elected House of Lords would be bad for Democracy) .
He talked to us about Enoch Powel and "Fighting the fucking BNP" (his words not mine;D)
He told us we had his full support if we were going to any of the protests against lifting the cap from student fees, and that if we got arrested we should tell the police he sent us.
"You've got to fight against the tories. Fight against what's wrong."

Genuinely, a legend.
xoxo

I'M WAITING FOR AN EPIPHANY.

A brow. A bed. A post. A lantern. Sitting in a cold church, I can feel my bones on the pew. Striking, darling. David Bowie in the rain. Glamour, latte to go. My paramour(a lover, the illicit partner of a married person). "And she's hooked to the silver screen". Merry go- ROUND. Isn't this a beautiful song?- We shout over the din. Wonder if you'll ever know- Life On Mars. Things that can move through the sky, I'm waiting. Waiting for that epiphany waitingforthethingsthatflythroughthesky. I think, maybe, I'll try to read that book again. (Because hands on the page count for more than the rain). I'm looking, looking for a train. A train with steam, a train with headlights, a train, a train for me and you. I slept on a train. I woke up in Scotland. I found candles behind your eyes/I found darkness in the sky. Isn't this wonderful, wonderful cliche? We'll Fake ourselves another two more verses, it's so so easy and so so enjoyable. Darning gloves and paper with squares. This is what we call waiting, on the edge of waiting, on the bench edge, bed edge, window ledge. Predetermined course of events, it's going to happen. My last name's Destiny. It should be Dignity. My last name's Paris, my last name's Gold. All cobbled streets and broken wine, launch yourself from the pavement. Birds, like mistakes, line themselves on the telegraph pole. I think I'll get it drawn on my skin. (I think I'll ask for a favour). Here is your letter, here is the time, hereisapictureofawindmill on the back of the envelope. I hope you like it.

Theme: Black and White. Daphen's Photography