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29th Dec, 2020

sops for the win

friends only ! :)

friends only !
comment to be added :)

13th Feb, 2011


(no subject)

stop and stare, I think I'm moving but I go nowhere.

I would rather live forever regretting what I did do, than what I didn't.
'are you okay?'
the uncomfortable sound of dissonance, the eternal jangling of fragmented metal in my heart, as though it were a cage full of the broken pieces, a metallic birdsong. and I don't just hear it, but feel it, the sense that there's something I'm forgetting, the idea of wires crossing, and I taste it in the back of my mouth; the iron in my blood, and I smell it on my skin, on all of my clothes; the childhood scent of rusty metal and sweat on my hands. the words bend themselves on the air of my breath, and choke themselves out, coiled around my oesophagus, as though they were dirty words. I know that I must feel it somewhere, if not in my heart, then in my fingertips, in the lightest brush on the inside of my elbows, in the ache in my wrists, in the heaviest of eyelids. I try to locate the source of pain, to drown it out; the coffee, the cigarettes, the alcohol, the drugs, the sleeping pills, sleep through it all, sleep deprivation, the empty lovers, seek thrills, threats, promises, run through traffic. but you stop me dead in my tracks, wrap your words around me, some hypnotic force, and become my deity.
you repeat my name, and ask again if I'm okay and I've never wanted to tell you more than now. the words fight their way up, thriving in my stomach, bubbling in my throat, ripping through the back of my mouth; 'I love you, always'

'I'm fine.'

31st Dec, 2010

sops for the win

(no subject)

my whole life has been the great escape.

4th Dec, 2008

sops for the win

my seth cohen

i wish we could open our eyes, to see in all directions at the same time. oh what a beautiful view, if you were never aware of what was around you

i love to wake up with the hazy light of morning coming through your curtains, and see our clothes strewn about your floor, in no paticular order, reminding me of last night. and feel you breathing gently in my ear. and turn over, still in your arms and feel your hands on the small of my back. and press my lips against your neck. and breathe in the warm whispers of your body. and lose all of my defences. you make me fall in love with you at the very last moment in time. skin to skin. i am yours and you are mine.

sorrow drips into your heart through a pinhole
just like a faucet that leaks and there is comfort in the sound
but while you debate half empty or half full
it slowly rises, your love is gonna drown

25th Nov, 2008

sops for the win

face down in the dark, she says "this doesn't hurt"

i will never let you fall. ill stand up with you forever. ill be there for you through it all, even if saving you sends me to heaven.

when i see your smile, tears roll down my face.

use me as you will, pull my strings just for a thrill, and i know ill be okay, though my skies are turning grey.

why does inconvinient love swallow me whole and spit me out ? love not even blind, but vain. so consumed within itself, it couldnt possibly see for flaws. how can love, so cruel as to cut me open and bleed me dry, also grant me the tiniest flicker of hope, as if it were a forest fire ; love, an ever destructive force, tearing down all beautiful nature in its path. the question on my lips is how something so inately good can cause us so much distress. when you leave yourself open to love, you leave yourself open to pain.

i know a boy whose heart beats within my own chest. and i dont trust myself with love in my hands. with my head on your chest i can hear my own heart beating. when i look into your eyes i can see my own thoughts and feelings. and its too late now to take it all back. im hopelessly in love with every fibre of your being. with all reluctancy, my heart is yours. do whatever you feel nessecary with it. just keep me safe. because with your hands in mine, im holding the whole world.

staring at a clock on the wall. every second is slipping through my fingers and im realising im starting to lose control of things. sometimes i wish i could just freeze time. hands ticking in perfect rhythm, circular motion. round and round, time has no beginning and no end. eternal seconds, minutes, hours. always moving forwards. yet im stuck here, with a broken pocketwatch, spinning the hands around and around. just to pretend i have control of things. nothing in this world can stand the test of time. but nothing and everything changes. time stops for no man. tick. tock.

20th Nov, 2008

sops for the win

the worst part, every hour of every day

you may tire of me as our december sun is setting. cause i'm not who i used to be. no longer easy on the eyes, these wrinkles masterfully disguise the youthful boy below, who turned your way & saw something he was not looking for : both a beginning & an end. but now he lives inside someone he does not recognise when he catches his reflection on accident.

id marry the madness that left me alone in the dark.

on the back of a motorbike with your arms outstretched, trying to take flight. leaving everything behind.

but even at our swiftest speed, we couldn't break from the concrete in the city where we still reside.

and i have learned that even landlocked lovers yearn for the sea like navy men.

cause now we say goodnight from our own seperate sides. like brothers on a hotel bed.

like brothers on a hotel bed.

2nd Nov, 2008

sops for the win

the first cut is always the deepest

these wounds are self inflicted, one more thing i'm addicted to

remember when i dove into the crowd and i got a bloody knee under my skin. a mark from wiping out. it brings back the memories. every bone has been broken, but my heart's still wide open. i can't stop, don't care if i lose, baby, you are the weapon i choose. these wounds are self inflicted. i'm going down in flames for you. oh, you are the weapon i choose. these wounds are self inflicted. one more thing i'm addicted to. with every scar there's a map that tells a story, what a souvenir of young love's like jumping out of an aeroplane, riding a tidal wave on an ocean of emotion. my heart rips me wide open. i can't stop, don't care if i lose. baby, you are the weapon i choose. these wounds are self inflicted. i'm going down in flames for you, baby, you are the weapon i choose. these wounds are self inflicted, one more thing i'm addicted to. and i cover up these scars. we'll make it. we'll make it but we'll break it. and i can't stop seeing stars. lets hope not die whenever your around. i can't stop, don't care if i lose. baby, you are the weapon i choose. these wounds are self inflicted, one more thing i'm addicted to. no i can't stop.

in a world of vast possibility, unfamiliar vague faces, fluorescent cityscapes, endless skies and abundant uncertainty, i am mislaid in my own mind all too easily. i fall for the slightest breeze of hope as if it were a storm. reality is difficult to bear and fantasy lies tempting like the sharp point of an easy escape, but what happens when our minds are no longer ours? do i dare say? i fear my answer may confound logic and sense with dissipated strands of the nonsensical reality that has led me so far astray. take my hand as I fall down the spiral staircase inside me.

i am a masquerade of charades you concede and the veracity you silently disregard. i am a contradiction and a concord. i am an entity of fragmented identities. i am everything and anything you choose to perceive me to be. i am the veiled reflection of a condemning society. i am erasable and faceless to strangers who wisp by whispering in hushed tones that strangle my fragile throat like the reaper’s bones. there is madness in me that words cannot wrap themselves around.

we planned to shake the world together, you and i.
being young, and very wise;
now in the light of the green shaded lamp
almost i see your eyes
light with the old gay laughter; you and i
dreamed greatly of an empire in those days,
setting our feet upon laborious ways,
and all you asked of fame
was crossed swords in the army list;
my dear, against your name.
we planned a great Empire together, you and i,
bound only by the sea;
now in the quiet of a chill winter's night
your voice comes hushed to me
full of forgotten memories: you and i
dreamed great dreams of our future in those days,
setting our feet on undiscovered ways,
and all i asked of fame
a scarlet cross on my breast, my dear,
for the swords by your name.

come pick me up. take me out. fuck me up. steal all my records. screw all my friends. their all full of shit. with a smile on your face. and then do it again.
i wish you would.

i leave my purse and any idea of who i am tucked under his hand. cause the truth is really i'm scared. not scared of the truth, just scared of the length we go to fight it. i take off my veils, muslin and lace, and leave them for you to find at your feet. "oh nvrmnd", said the shotgun to the head.

i'm giving you my fake ID's, my old report cards, because your more like me than i can ever remember being.

i have this pocket watch, and i spin the hands around and around just to pretend i have control of things. a month away. we can play normal for a few days.

if love is a word that you say, then say it. i will listen.

when i am weakCollapse )

24th Oct, 2008

sops for the win

(no subject)

it's a good thing tears never show in the pouring rain

as if a good thing ever could make up for all the pain

18th Aug, 2008

sops for the win

(no subject)

hes wondering what love is. & why it has to end. & he cant understand how everyone goes on breathing when true love ends. his mother whispers quietly 'heaven's not a place that you go when you die, it's that moment in life when you actually feel alive. so live for the moment. & take this advice, live by every word. love is just a hoax so forget anything that you have heard'

i now exist as just a silhouette behind a cigarette. ripped apart, i smile through all the pain.

witness a spectacle rarely seen or desired by the human eye. an oddity & an outcast. i present to you : the girl who cried author. my head is reeling. it feels like it's spinning so fast it may fly right off my shoulders. no matter where it lands, your haunting every thought in there. a welcomed ghost, an appreciated poltergeist. my nightmare that keeps me up and sweating at night that i can only hope is reoccuring. i feel like i'm losing my touch, can i borrow yours ? any excuse. 'm citing "baby, my hands are so cold". i'm restless & useless & pacing hotel rooms i wouldnt dare to walk bare foot in. my nails are gnawed to the bone like a corpse & i've paced a hole in the floor. six more feet to go. we shun and fear the things we dont understand & i've gone out of my way to avoid myself. the sentiment 'i'm here for you' is nothing i'd shake a stick at. its something i'd fucking gun down in cold blood. when the going gets tough, you get going. suddenly my insecurities, once driving us apart, are the things closest to me. they never leave me abandoned. unlike you. i'm so dead behind these eyes. theres no sparkle. nothing to see here. i'm finally the bag of bones i had so longed to be. they say you lose weight when your ill. i guess you never knew how fucking sick i could be. the shakes and tremors are just a side effect of the medicine. that shudder down your spine is a side effect of my taste for revenge. or just my icy fingertips running across your scars. your forgetting that i know every inch of your body like it was mine. with love & a gun to my head. it takes a lot less than silver bullets to kill me, as long as your the murderor. i'm just dying to hear those three small words. & not the ones you'd think. okay. you. win. my body's a temple alright. full of idol/idle worship. i'm sorry but due to lack of devoted parishers, we are discontinuing services. the most sincere and deserved recognition i'll ever recieve will be at my funeral. by the groundskeeper, as they pour the dirt over me. & my tombstone will be just as i am now ; stone cold & lifeless. here she lies. mediocre human being. disappointing daughter. nothing special.
tell me something i dont know.

so live for the moment, & take this advice : love's completely real. so forget anything that you have heard.

22nd Sep, 2007

sops for the win

(no subject)

five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes. how do you measure, measure a year ?

ive been sleeping with ghosts. accepting my own answers to the fundamental questions they dont teach me about in my philosophy class. im finally old enough to comprehend my own past and move on. im letting my old demons tuck me in at night. ive been watching stars crawling out of the sky. the constant high-fives and hugs are a firm reminder of everything ive been achieving of late. ive got tunnel vision but im doing fine. my achey legs wrap me in reassurance, and the hoarseness of my voice lets me know im getting there. falling asleep at ten-thirty halfway through watching spinal tap on a friday night is my life. and ive been hopeing im close to the spaceman movies i call my life. im going places ive only ever dreamed about. my life is taking shape, and its perfect form. i can feel the changes happening in my veins, sitting cross legged on a piano stool singing my heart out. ive never feel so at home, alive or happy. everything makes sense. the little girl with the big voice is all grown up. and ive got you to compel me that i still mean so much. and maybe the world can look like this forever.

insane few weeks gone, insane few weeks ahead. i have my czech coming to stay with me for a week on monday. excited ! im not even kidding, im actually excited haha. shes called petra, and shes going to be coming to all my classes with me for the week, much to mr wise's delight apparently ("the more the merrier"). you have no idea how much the pressure has been on the past few weeks. we only just finished ESL on thursday night. the last three songs were a struggle, when everyone is so sick of the entire score, and we all wanna go home, and fall asleep. the lovely miss gardener pushed us through though, bless her haha. i DO love you claire, even when i try to hide from you in the DISCO CUPBOARD ! haha. i love being in soprano sectionals, especially our "warm ups" *whoaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee*, and mary's "pitch exercises", and how i experiment with the many uses of a music stand, and emma's "want a cheesy quaver salt and vinegar disco's beefy hula hoops ?". so on my insane thursday, i turn up to rehursal at 3, straight after biology, have our promo photo shoot for a newspaper, we do sectionals until ten past five, we leave, i get the train home, get to my house, nobody's in, and im stressing because i have to be back in school for six. and yes, i managed it haha ! well, ten minutes late. i was so pleased with myself haha, despite having to encourage my mother to speed to achieve it. i have the most crazyass week ahead of me. beshamonie arrive at 3PM on monday, i have a performance wednesday night, performance thursday night, performance friday night, petra leaves saturday morning, recital on sunday, performance on monday night. i will have NO voice come 10PM on monday. im so fucking excited though. class.

so i got into BYC. im so stoked. i even got a duet solo with another sop girl, called emy-lou. its part of an arrangement of I Wish I Knew How It Feels To Be Free. im unbelievably proud of my A5's, i can promise you. everyone seems pretty nice, and we get to sing the original spiritual of Wade In The Water, which is incrediable *sometimes i feel like a motherless child ..* its funny how i must have gotten so used to being racked with nerves everytime i step foot into bexley academy of music because of exams, that it appears to be a second nature to me now.

private music tutoring is finally underway. mother of mary, i was actually triiping over myself to get into P2 for my first voice lesson back. i feel bit bit empty without the weekly vocal and piano lessons. im in the Troth Book Of Divas haha ! "oh Miss Leigh-Hannah, your going to have to have the top spot in my book of divas. typical soprano. 'my voice, my voice! oh i have to be alone. my voice!'". true to the title, i suppose im probably not the easiest person to work with in terms of my demands haha, e.g. my music stand has to be a specific stand, at a very specific height, and if the height is wrong, i throw a fit and have someone come in and adjust it for me. and if a piece goes wrong i stop and take it right from the top. nothing by halves. trust me. so we're working on my Vaccai practical method. which thus far has been fun, and im so glad i bought the book. i spent goodness knows how long talking about PoTo E6, the Queen Of The Night aria (F6), and breath control tunnel vision. i so wanna do Think Of Me as one of my grade pieces next year. voice lessons are always hilarious. "its AHH. AHHHHH. say it for me. AHHHH. AHH like AHHHRSSSEEE. ARSE!" and "LEIGH CAN YOU PLEEEEEEEASEEE PLEASE PLEASEEEEEEEE hold the same vowel throughout that turn. im begging you" i love being a singer.

music GCSE is the best thing ever. for 2 hours a week i get to be in a class of fucking amazing people. best lesson so far has to be the infamous improv. lesson where the replacement guy asked us to harmonise over the Seasons Of Love melody. jennifer : please GTFO. i am not singing. *hides under table*" and me starting way too high and the guy's face being like "WOAH THERE GIRLIE!" haha. i also love how dinali, zoe and i "rehursed" our composition at lunch, which consisted of us sitting in P2 switching who was playing piano and who was playing drums, before actually returning to the original pattern, haha. and dinali making me laugh while i was playing piano in our final performance and me almost losing my note. zoe shouting "OMG DISSONANCE!" over me and dinali while we were playing. and sam putting us all to shame with a Brahms ballad. dinali's pedalling scenario, mary's chord scenario *sigh of relief from the right-hand side of the room*. it's by far my favorite class, even though im rediculously nervous about my solo performance next week, and the amount of compositions and theory/counterpoint work i have to do is insane. 8 bars = imperfect cadence, 16 bars = perfect cadence. someone help me remember that. and where to put my major thirds in a chord progression.

as if my parents werent already paying enough to support my aspirations (£275 per term for all my private music tutoring, academy of music membership, etc ...) im thinking of joining trinity. it would be so great for experience and when i come to apply for Trinity Guildhall University in 3 years time, it will be so many brownie points there. sounds like a plan. i feel for my parents haha. their bank account goes something like this : (per term) luke's theory lessons - £90, luke's guitar lessons - £350, leigh's voice lessons - £110, leigh's piano lessons - £110, leigh's academy of music membership admission - £30. im so glad my parents both have ridic. good jobs haha, cause they get to have badass musician kids. so trinity should be good, if i can get my parents to agree to it ahah.

school is brilliant, as promised. philosophy lessons own. english *swoons*. lord of the flies is amazing, mr wiseee .. haha. art is so much fun. no more latin or geography ever again ! haha. biology is hilarious "WHEELER WHEELER WHEELER!" hahahah. apparently my german accent is really good. hectic choir schedual. trampolining every friday = achey limbs. im hanging out with some amazing people in my year, who like me actually say stuff like "lets listen to the sonata's, no wait, michael buble!", and i managed to tell jimmy that i loved him. and i had the best "score war" with luke in year 13 on tuesday. seeing my lovely emma every week. me and mary having a disco in P2 in rehursal, and tramp woman immitations. class. civ lessons being a complete joke, "cronos LUL". basically, i love being a senior.

ive finally stopped throwing up everything i eat. im no longer living on root ginger and hot water. WOW SOLID FOOD !

im going to see Rent in a few weeks, ill update after. it should be good, seeing how im obsessed with the soundtrack. motion city soundtrack soon too. id rather not be going but it was a gift so i guess im obliged.

finished my craig armstong set, and ive started putting it onto my flickr. i had billy tang round a few weeks ago to go over some art stuff, which was hilarious "see you later. or maybe i wont. maybe i wont ever see you again"

finally, i need to stop worrying about you. its driving me insane. everytime i hear yiruma or piano instrumentals, i get racked with worry. i dont know if im worried for you or worry for me because your not there. i hope everything's going well for you at uni. i cant wait until these 3 years are up, and we can go for more of our night time picnics, or make candles. i miss you already, because im lame. and i like it when you ask me if im okay, or if i know who turina is. and when you swear under your breath, or laugh at me and matt dancing in the hallways. thomas, i love you and your "greatly distinctive and fashionable style". matt says "DYKE!"

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