Skye

Gentle reader, after a fortnight in Italy, a little respite on the west coast of Scotland with X was in order... regular service will resume soon.

In the meantime, I suggest that you enjoy adventures on the seven seas with Captain Dyke

La Dolce Vita

How are you, gentle readers? How desperately have you all missed me?

Well, you will have to go on missing me... for one writes a hurried message en route to Paris Orly; by the time most of you awake, one will be enjoying La Dolce Vita in Rome... before moving on to Bologna, Firenze, Venezia, Milano... if you happen to be in the neighbourhood, do please say hello.

It was my noble intention to prepare a series of fabulously revealing posts to entertain in my absence... alas, one has been having too much fun.

But do check back in an hour or so... or a day or so... or a week or so...

Arrivederci!

Previously listening to

Sufjan Stevens

Invites you to Come on feel the Illinoise

For one last 'woo hoo' before we go

She's Lost Control

1. Introduction – A few words from the bride
2. You could have it so much better by Franz Ferdinand
3. Just a girl by No doubt
4. Love me like you by The Magic Numbers
5. Firecracker by Ryan Adams
6. Joe’s head by Kings of Leon
7. Six Days (Remix Ft Mos Def) by DJ Shadow
8. Every day I love you less and less by The Kaiser Chiefs
9. Reptilia by The Strokes
10. PDA by Interpol
11. Excuse me Mister by No Doubt
12. Paranoid by Garbage
13. Moving by Supergrass
14. No choice in the matter by Aimee Mann
15. Hotel by Broken Social Scene
16. Holy Matrimony (Married to the firm) by Foxy Brown
17. Rebellion (Lies) by Arcade Fire
18. Yellow by Coldplay
19. That’s just what you are by Aimee Mann
20. She’s lost control by Joy Division

Take this pink ribbon off my eyes. I’m exposed and it’s no big surprise. Don’t you think I know exactly where I stand? I’m just a girl living in captivity. I’ve been moving so long the days all feel the same: got a low, low feeling around me, and a stone cold feeling inside. Moving, just keep moving, when I don’t know why. I just can’t stop messing my mind up. I’m wasting my time. Nothing to say ! Nothing to do! What I’ve succumbed to is making me numb. I’m sick and tired of staying in control. I think I’m paranoid and complicated. Tomorrow never comes until its too late. At the starting of the week I’ve got to get this off my chest: I’m about to crack. You could be sitting making lunch, and it hits you like a punch: its only Tuesday. You leave me no choice in the matter, the message light just blinks away and while I’m here you won’t push play, and now every time that I look at myself in the mirror, the room is on fire and she’s fixing her hair. This world is forcing me because I’m just a girl, all pretty and petite; yes, take a good look at me, just your typical prototype. You’re always telling me it’s my turn to move, when I wonder what could make the needle jump the groove. Bend me, break me, prop me up with another pillow; I won’t fall for the oldest trick in the book, so don’t sit there and think you’re off the hook by saying there’s no use changing because that’s just what you are. What the matter with the truth? Did I offend your ears by suggesting that a change might be a thing to try? It’s not like you will lose some critical piece if somehow you moved from point A to point B. Don’t care what you say, so just say it anyway. You cannot safely say that while I am away you will not consider sadly. So cute when you’re frustrated dear? Well, you can look, but you can’t touch, because I don’t think I like you much. You’re turning into something I detest and everyone says you’re a mess; I can’t believe once you and me did sex. Oh yes, I’m stressed, I’m sorry I digress, but please don’t slow me down if I’m going too fast. We could talk and talk until I’m blue in the face, but we’ll arrive at the very same place; with you running around and me out of the race. In our endeavour, we are never seeing eye to eye. It’s almost as if I’m tied to the tracks and I’m waiting for him to rescue me: funny thing is, he’s not going to come. What should I do? It’s only Thursday. The last message you sent said I looked really down and that I ought to come over and talk about it. Well, I wasn’t down; I just wasn’t smiling at you. For most love comes for free: they don’t pay the high cost of mental custody. Ignorance without the bliss. Now there’s some grinning goon on my TV screen telling us all that it’s alright because she wears this and he said that, and if you get some of these it’ll all be alright, but oh no it won’t be alright, unless you get up, come on and get up. Sleeping is giving in, no matter what the time is, so lift those heavy eyelids. Are you alive or are you dead? Your rule of thumb makes me worry some. But we have two hundred couches where you can sleep tight! People say that your dreams are the only things that save you: come on, baby, in our dreams we can live our misbehaviour. People try and hide the night underneath the covers. My apologies, what I’ve become is so burdensome. You’re no longer laughing. Tell us a story. You know I’m not boring. Look at the stars, look how they shine for you, skin and bones turned into something beautiful. You know I love you so.