the best thing for you would to be queen, so be queen

i am alive. i worked a lot, created bonds, had an affair, wrecked a home, got fucked around and left alone, bought some arts and crafts in a disused mill, got a tattoo of a raptor on my wrist, became ill.

there was a time when every day was marked on the calendar which hung on the wall above my desk. blackly inked X's told me what to do and my energetic, organic flatmates herded me into a pattern of how to be. i drank strong coffee and spread rumours inside my head to pass the time.

i am an angry young woman, i think.