DEAR AMY,

now, amy is one of my biggest idols in life and currently i am trying to be like her. like her, she spiraled downwards, engulfed in the worlds of drugs and alcohol. today is the anniversary  of her death last year - a death that for me changed my perspective. because for me, amy is an angel. 


the following is a terrible letter if not tribute to the beautiful legend that is amy winehouse and i apologise for my drug infused rambling.

DEAR AMY,

Since I listened to Rehab, I realized you were different, that you were talented. You said we should be proud of not fitting in because it means that you got something, that you are different. I’ve learnt a lot from you and with you. And I mean A LOT. Your music, your style and personality.Your music gave me the escape I’ve always wanted to find. Your music is the music my soul plays and my brain listen and my heart feels. Your style makes me understand how to express my personality through my look and appearence. I always wear makeup. EVERYDAY. Because, the more insecure I feel, the thicker my makeup  has to be. And then, I saw that interview when you said the same thing, but about your hair. I understand that feeling completely, d’you know what I mean?And those self-harming feelings that you had… Well, I’m a bit autodistructive too, so, I think I understand you a lot. 

20th. July: Your last performance on stage.  I knew you were as alive as you’ve ever been. You were so happy those days. It was an especial day for me too. And it’s always going to be because it the first time I felt happy in my birthday, really happy. That day was the first time I was happy with myself. 

23th July: I believe in you. I always believe. And forever believe in you. I’ll never forget you.

My tears dry with your music, angel. When I listen to you I know I can escape.You give me strength and you give me escape. You helped me a lot.

So thank you,

love G x

so, last week i did something stupid. being young, wild and free (in the words of wiz khalifa) i exorcised this freedom by having sex with another mindless individual. however, it still somewhat hurts when he messages you - YES, HE USED FACEBOOK - saying 'it was a mistake'. Obviously it was but still, surely someone could have a little more heart?

so i entered a beauty pageant and was made a finalist. BRING IT ON.

on the subject of toby and dating websites

i have been stripped of ANY sleep recently as i've been out every night whether that be to a 53 year old x-factor rejectee's crib or to toby's crackden (see pictures). however, this week has proved to me the negatives and positives of 53 year old men, druggies and boys in general. out of sheer boredom, i made a plenty-of-fish account which for those of you who don't know, is a FREE dating site. along with the generic, homicidal rapists there are some genuinely lonely people. this caused me to think at length about my most recent (failed) relationship. the reason as to why we broke up was due to the two things that worry every teen mother most - drugs and sex. it's true, drugs really can fuck your life up although in this instance, the heavy usage of meow and weed saved me from a lifetime of chauvinism and constant worrying about whether i was too fat etc. because, when you're a psychotic sixteen year old like myself, it's so easy to fall into the trap of changing your entire self for that one person. which is why i thank my previous sexual encounters for making a) my boyfriend (ex) think i'm a massive slut b) and by my boyfriend not trusting me, once again questioning my INDEPENDENCE. 

so last night, i went round toby's with 3g of kaos and detailed my woes to him and listened to outkast and destiny's child. love toby for lyf (mini shoutout) and thank you to all those people that actually read/listen to my shit. 

i need to sleep more

when i got my first computer and email in primary school i found a website which was basically a “love-ometer”, y’know where you put your name and the name of your “crush” in and it calculates the amout that you “”love”” each other. well anyway, when you signed up for the website you could then send the link to friends by putting their email addresses in. BUT the catch was that everytime one of my ‘friends’ entered the details of their SECRET crush and awaited the percentage of their true love, the website would notify me and tell me what name they put in

i knew who everyone fancied always and no one knew how

i have been thinking about this for a couple of days and i can’t work out if it’s mean or down right genius 

i’m just sitting here. my room is a mess, so fucking on so fucking forth. my head hurts my eyes sting. dunno whats going on. I opened the fridge and the box of crisps fell on my head. pepsi. pepsi. the cat is snoring. watching more episodes of scooby doo but i’ve seen every. single. one. and it’s like a dreadful playback of my worst memories and i know if i stay up any longer if i do i’ll have bad dreams. i always have bad dreams. my notebook is nearly full, i am almost poor. now i’m packing and packing and will next week come quicker. no. no. no. stay the fuck away from me. i can juggle i can’t dance nor can i sing but i can shout and scream and make a fuss but i don’t i never do and i’m always tired and i never eat infront of people anymore. i can’t sleep. i don’t want to wake up alone anymore and most of this is lyrics from my favourite songs, when yr mind was filled with air and mine with dirt and our most brilliant friends are doubting themselves.

welcome. accueil. bienvenida. willkommen.

i'm currently dancing to beyonce and eating pot noodles. i only woke up an hour ago and today i did a total of noTHING. however, i got a letter from lewes college saying that at college, i'm doing classic civilization, english lit, philosophy and modern history and that you only need a c in maths and english to get in.

i think i might go for a skate later. or maybe i'll continue raving to my sassy playlist. lyf is confusing and to make it worse, there's a new alan partridge show on tonight and there are still another six pots of noodles to be eating.