Easy come and easy go

Why am I listening to Nick Lachey? It's so pathetically giving. It's defeatest and grotesque all at the same time. How pathetic. That's so not what I need right now. I need a song about strength. Paulina recommended Mariah's 'Through The Rain'. Uh. I don't think this household is ready for that yet. I'm still relatively new. I'll play it anyway. How tragic.

I'm really drunk on Oomoo red wine. The room is so transparent and still emotionless. I went for a walk around a few blocks of Parkville this evening. It was freezing and I was wearing my big black Genae hoody. I seriously looked like I was going to break into a house, or start a riot. That jumper is criminal.

Okay listening to Mariah now and it's not doing me any favours. It reminds me of Christmas. Did I mention I was on TV for the Carols by Candlelight when I was in the National Boys Choir? Oh my God, I can't believe I revealed that. It's like a fuckin' E-true Hollywood Story. Only, I'm not famous, or beautiful, or talented. Just drunk. Like Whitney. Oh, hang on, she's on crack. She didn't get the memo that crack is wack. This will go down as one of the more pointless blog entries ever, along with any of my entries documenting popular culture or my life in general. It's hard to tell what really matters anymore. Numbness and alcohol is what matters. I think my mothers condition is the cherry on what was a momentous cake of disruption in my life. An inability to sustain any sort of love, and sort of stability, any sort of routine. How could anyone love this? Let's have a drink to drinking the pain away.

Glass of Oomoo anyone?


PunkOnAir : Mariah Carey : Bringin' On The Heartbreak