You’ll always fail sometimes when you begin.

And I know you wanna get out of here.

i know you think this town is the problem but maybe it’s not, maybe it’s you
i know you think there are walls around you, but did you ever look
it’s so easy to blame other people, it’s so easy to hate where you’re from
but the truth is we’re the product of nothing
just a collection of the things that we’ve done

what if the songs you say define you were just the ones that you heard first?
what if your first love could be your last love if you hadn’t used it as a way to rehearse?
it’s so easy to think of an ending, it’s so easy to start all over again
but the truth is you have to stick with it;
you’ll always fail sometimes when you begin.

– summer camp

“Silence” at the Connaught.

There’s this “pool” in front of the hotel which is actually an art installation called “Silence” (by Tadao Ando). Two trees sit in a raised granite-edged pool while atomisers hidden at the base of the trees create clouds of water vapour for fifteen seconds every fifteen minutes. The glass lenses below the surface of the water contain fibre optics that illuminate the basin by night.

The feature was jointly commissioned by Grosvenor and the Connaught hotel. The street improvements are based on the understanding that the space between buildings is as important as the buildings themselves. Ever-increasing traffic volume, and a mass of unnecessary signage and other ‘clutter’, have diminished the quality of London’s streets. The works aim to enhance the experience for all those who live, work and visit, particularly pedestrians.

God bless our perfect, perfect grey day.

Não consigo lembrar do nome do restaurante, mas lembro que não tinham banheiro para clientes. Queria que isso fosse ilegal, e não estou bem certa de que não seja, mas estou bastante certa de que não volto mais ali. Por favor, restaurantes, pessoas precisam fazer xixi. Especialmente mulheres. Mulheres precisam fazer xixi toda hora, mais ainda quando estão bebendo cerveja. Banheiro é tão prioridade quanto a cozinha. Tomem vergonha.

Back to black.

he left no time to regret
kept his dick wet with his same old safe bet
me and my head high
and my tears dry, get on without my guy
you went back to what you know
so far removed from all that we went through
and I tread a troubled track
my odds are stacked, I’ll go back to black
We only said goodbye with words
I died a hundred times
You go back to her and I go back to
I go back to black

Lockdown Town.

Mês passado fiz minha primeira incursão na zona 1 desde março; quatro meses só saindo para caçar papel higiênico e álcool 70%. Lojas não essenciais receberam o sinal verde para abrir, mas a maioria das pessoas ainda está trabalhando em casa. As ruas vazias o suficiente para dar uma vibe desolada e pós-apocalíptica a uma das megalópoles mais populosas do planeta. Tomei meu primeiro café fora de casa e foi bom. A torta foi um erro; estou sempre caindo na armadilha mais chamativa. Devia ter pedido um croissant.

Foi bom poder saltitar pelas calçadas sem esbarrar nas pessoas ou ter que desviar de carrinhos, tirar fotos sem as malditas vans brancas passando na frente e não me sentir sufocada e empurrada pela multidão. Mas a cidade precisa de trabalhadores, compradores e turistas para prosperar; sem gente respirando vida em suas artérias lotadas, ela murcha e morre.