Dessert and orange soda are my support, i'm fucking braindead from unrequited feelings, unreciprocated emotion, rumours and exam prep. Its realisation that makes me throw up in my mouth a little bit and the understanding that although i'm a clever girl i won't make the smart decisions and i'd rather bask like a fat cat in the sun and eat cake then approach bizzare post, law citation, and general social existance.
Revision has been accustomed to my current life style. However in studying cases with the sun on my back and the perspicacious nature of witnessing the sun slowly set behind the hedgerows the law citation merges into one and R v Miller is no longer the case of a tramp and a matress but a baby being thrown into a pram or a stabbed Jehovas Witness refusing a blood transfusion. My mum had the tact to tell me 'not to take my foot off the pedal now' but i'm regurgitating thoughts and facts in group-succession; things i've witnessed on tv or read in magazines or simply made up, all with speed and mixed direction. I have little time to engage, elaborate or elope with anything other than my own mind-processes, bright packaging containing products of high-sugar content so that taste isn't so sour and i don't throw up that little bit.
No, i crave to indulge in more material things than my own verbal spewings; 'The Last Horror Movie, my dog burning her nose on the barbeque, food fights, instant messenger and praying i make enough room for just one slice of banoffee pie.
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