Seems So Long Ago, Nancy

We're two parties, two parties ending

we are doing the same dance






we are tired

burn me after reading

Only snow

I just looked out of the window behind me and it's started to hail.

I hope it is snowing on the Yorkshire Moors right now.

Only snow

I just looked out of the window behind me and it's started to hail.

I hope it is snowing on the Yorkshire Moors right now.

As empty as a hard drive.

My mother and I were sitting on the floor by the front door where my dog always pisses when someone exciting visits. We were listening to the messages on the answering machine.

Message one was Leonie going 'Rachel this is an emergency. I need R****** M*****'s number. Oh my god. I don't know what to do. Oh my god. Can you facebook Nina and ask for it.' Message two was my great aunt Anne going 'Please leave your message after the tone.' She's a bit confused but she's still my hero. Message three was from Comet saying our item was ready for collection.

So we got our matching Macgregor tartan scarves and we got in the car and put on the old tape of Stelios Kazantzidis, as we do every day. And we drove down into town and it was all October 2003 car doors and mittens or October 2006 stalking 5pm hairdresser lights and we drove to the edge of the abyss with the lonely crane tower drivers and the ghost buildings and the comet car park was still there on the edge of this ground zero known as Southgate. We almost got taken out by a metal dinosaur. We parked the car.

I have a good eye for CCTV cameras these days. We walked up the metal stairs at the back and all of a sudden it was suddenly there beneath us like the Mariana Trench... The new Southgate spread out before us like a twister mat ripped out from under our feet. Except it was living and breathing like cold grey clockwork. Like the bullring after it exploded. Or the eiffel tower after they demolished it. And it was like looking at a dead animals when it shocks you at first so you look closer and there are maggots crawling all over it in hard hats and day-glo.

We stood there for half an hour. We said nothing and afterwards we said it was like a race of superhumans had created this. It was too big for us to fathom. We ourselves wash dishes and drink coffee. How do we stand a chance against this?

SO then we got the computer and drove home and unpacked the box that had come home all the way from Germany and switched it on. And and and. There was nothing on it. The entire hard disk had been wiped.

I didn't really realise that the hard disk of this laptop was that important. Not like Luke or Matt who have computers like one of their internal organs. But maybe to me it was something like a kidney that you wouldn't appreciate until it had gone. Like who ever appreciates their kidneys? You never think about your kidneys until you're hooked up to a dialysis machine. I always relied on paper. It's safer and you can make planes from it. But there was so much on that computer which I shall never see again.

17000 yearbook photos.
Plus all my photos from 2006 till now.
Plus all my photos from my interrail trip with Claire.
All the text messages I ever received. Including really important ones.
All my music.
9 hours of Leonard Cohen I just downloaded.
A long list of everything I ever talked about with Pat.
All my school files since 2001.
Everything I wrote since 2001.
Including the originals of all the issues of NEM ever made. (Ha.)
AND THE FUCKING NOVEL I WAS WRITING.

If you think about it this is all quite a lot to lose. So much of my life has no substance. It was all written in binary and I can't read binary. Not any more.

I would have liked to cry, despite the relative insignificance of this. But I haven't cried since June. I don't really feel very much these days. Just the same sadness like a neon arrow in Las Vegas, stripes flashing intermittently in a mexican wave, going down somewhere deeper, a hard kernel like an avocado stone inside me.

That is where I store things these days. It's safer than a hard drive.

I'm so vain,

I think this song is about me. And your facebook status update. But I'm probably wrong.

A verse that I didn't want to learn

You can store these in an airtight container for about 100 years.

I was sitting in the wicker chair like I do every day not getting paid for market banter. I sat there in my free dress and it was itchy like those mosquito bites that leave indellible marks, and I realised that I had never done anything nice for anyone in my whole life.

I want to know the words to that Emmy the Great song and sing it so people think that I wrote the words. I would have written them if Emmy the Great hadn't written them before me but everyone knows that I am Emmy the Great anyway. I remember you like a verse that I didn't want to learn, I just looked into your eyes and I knew ya. A broken hallelujah. Hallelujah. Hallelujah. And the sky was so much bluer. Hallelujah. Hallelujah. And the world was so much newer.

The original Leonard Cohen version.

I love spite.

I love spite and I hate the way things happen and the way things have to happen. There's a difference.

I saw Heath Ledger last night and his mafia smile. I wish I had a mafia smile, a busted tooth and a plath. Take away the Lindars Hammond and grant my wish 100-year-old fish. I nearly threw 5 grotsky into the pond in the Slovenian caves. Postojna James. Postcard I never sent and never put in a bin. Aaaargh.

La la la I will have you yet, I will carry you there if I have to.

Her left hand shook almost unnoticeably

Christine Chubbuck flicked her long dark hair back away from her face, swallowed, twitched her lips only slightly and reached with her left hand to turn the next page of her script. Looking down on the anchor desk she began to read: “In keeping with Channel 40’s policy of bringing you the latest in”—she looked up from the script, directly into the camera and smiled a tentative smile. Her voice took on a sarcastic tone as she emphasized “blood and guts… and in living color.” She looked back down at her script, her left hand shook almost unnoticeably.

Her right arm stiffened. “We bring you another first.” Her voice was steady. She looked up again into the camera. Her eyes were dark, direct and challenging. “An attempted suicide.” Her right hand came up from under the anchor desk. In it was a .38 caliber revolver. She pointed it at the lower back of her head and pulled the trigger. A loud crack was heard. A puff of smoke blew out from the gun and her hair flew up around her face as though a sudden gust of wind had caught it. Her face took on a fierce, contorted look, her mouth wrenched downward, her head shook. Then her body fell forward with a resounding thud against the anchor desk and slowly slipped out of sight.

Mira que si te quise, fué por el pelo, Ahora que estás pelona, ya no te quiero

Something to hold on to

I have learned to smoke because I need something to hold on to. I dare not be without a cigarette in my hand. If I should be looking the other way when the hour of doom is struck, how can I avoid being turned into stone unless I can remember something to do which will lead me back to the simplicity and safety of daily living?

good weather for girls names

hello smoke numbers. today is a rachel day because it is the first day of writing.

rachel is me. . i like songs and other good things. here is a song for rachels

http://www.blogger.com/
">Marissa Nadler - Rachel

my friend is called Leonie but i don't really like goodbooks but i do like crystal castles A LOT.

Goodbooks - Leni (Crystal Castles remix)

one of my favourite songs . she wrote it for her sister. if you are called emily

http://www.blogger.com/">Joanna Newsom - Emily

there will be more songs. for now. HAPPY NEW YEAR

Rachel

C'est moi