mr darcy fantasies are ruining my life

i couldn't ever say this to your face
but i'm finding this whole experience quite, well boring.
and please don't take offence
but i've seen all this before.

same old tangled limbs, same old tired story
it might be a slightly different face but your mouth still tastes the same
first kiss is always the niccy rush and the second one is staler
all i can concentrate on is keeping my hands glued to my sides

and somewhere in the back of my mind there are slight hazy, barely-there memories
of butterflies dancing on my tongue
of fingers pulling through my hair
of piggy backs and grassy fields and lazy arguments, we didn't care.
but not you. not tonight.

it's hard to recreate something that was never truly quite there
and i'm fidgeting because my mother once said that those we love
never really leave us, they are the brightest stars, they are always watching.
are they watching me now?

are they watching me now and do they know that i'm apologising
for not being the clever seven year old who could recite all henry the eighth's wives
and is god up there somewhere damning me down
for doing this when i'm not in love
and will my whole fate be decided
on the way that you whisper my name
and are angels singing for me now
as you grasp for my hand in the dark?

so this is the poem i had inspiration for, the last two lines have been floating around my head for a couple of weeks so it's good to put them into context. as you can see, it's about meaningless 'romantic' encounters and how pointless they are, and how i feel guilty about having them when i could and should be doing something better. and about how sometimes the memory of being in love is the only motivation for it all, even if the love wasn't real in the first place. something like that anyway, i don't know. it's a bit ironic i guess, seeing as i haven't had any kind of encounter for months, but oh well. i have nothing else to write about except the amount of work i'm getting, and being skint. it doesn't have a title right now- i saved it under 'this is no bridget jones', after a line in one of my favourite songs but i'm not keen on it as an actual title, so i'm keeping my thinking cap on. it's starting to annoy me how my poetry is all the same and really quite boring and shallow and pretentious. i might experiment next time with some actual poetic constructs, i'm thinking rhythm and imagery and perhaps actual RHYME. who knows man ;)

yesterday was lovely, me and gracie had a perfect day in york. sometimes i think i take york for granted a bit- it's amazing to spend time in a city which is so vibrant, so present- yet also so chained to its past. to walk down the streets which have been tread for centuries, to see buildings that have sprogged up over the years, to take in its absolute breathtaking beauty. now i'm a leeds girl and i always will be- its an urban paradise, the most diverse and exciting city in the world (in my opinion anyway ;)) but york is a total enigma, somewhere i could spend hours just exploring, always knowing i was going to find something new. i've got just over another year to make the most of it, which is exactly what i intend to do.

spending time with grace is the best thing ever too. for those who don't know, gracie is my childhood best friend- we have literally known eachother from being in nappies (our first meeting was me as a one year old being pushed in a pram by my grandma, scoffing up chocolate buttons. some things never change). her family used to live next door to my grandma's and i'd shout over the paddock fence every time i visited "graaaaaace! graaaaace!" and we'd spend ages running around the paddock, making up stories and tormenting her older sister. as we grew up, we became a twosome at primary school (even at that age, we knew we were intellectual oddities!) and i was left bereft when she moved to beverley when we were ten. however for the past six years we've kept a really, really strong friendship and i have a bond with her which is unlike one i have to anyone else. we have so many memories to fall back on, and i know she'd be there for me through anything. it's so strange how we've spent our adolescence apart yet our lives have so many parrallels, the way we dress, the music and books we read, our general mindsets. it's brilliant. i love her. thanks for everything gracamund :)

i bought this massive reebok jumper for £3 from expressions (currently wearing said jumper, teamed with my trusty leggings), and three books- the perks of being a wallflower (read. loved. although it wasn't as good as catcher in the rye. but then, nothing is.), kill your friends (started today, love it so far, completly piss your pants hilarious) and revolutionary road, which i want to read before seeing the film and going ballistic over the beautiful kate winslet. oh kate, i am you.

pride and prejudice binge today, i reread my favourite chapters, watched some clips on youtube (completly gratuitous, simply fufilling my burning need to see colin firth in a wet shirt smouldering. oh colin, oh colin. fuck i have to stop. the man is like fifty. fuck i don't care. oh colin...) and then reading my 'making of pride and prejudice' book that came out with the 1995 series. oh colin. sorry. but yes, that's how hardcore i am. i even got the pride and prejudice question right on university challenge. watching said challenge has also dissuaded me from applying to oxbridge, i shall NEVER be that clever.

and now i am off to bed. tomorrow i intend to work hard, on everything. because i have so much work to do, it actually slightly makes me want to cry. and then i intend to find some disney film or possibly mean girls to watch as my reward for working hard. i love organising my days. i think i'm turning into mary ann spier. oh well. as long as it's not mallory. DYKE.

nanight, sleep tight, don't let the bed bugs bite (unless you're into kinky biting. who knows? i'm not. unless it's from colin... oh god. i have problems, i really do)
victoria x