Vänligen. Gör inte detta. Du menar världen för mig och jag kan inte förlora dig. Jag känner mig så dum och jag är så arg på mig själv. Värst av allt, jag tror jag faller för dig. Bra jobbat, Anoosha. Din jävla idiot.

Hurt Me.

Oh my love is that a vulture?
Tell me it's a vulture
Standing beside you
Oh, Do you see your own face in his eyes
Do you see him like I do?

It used to be that when you said you believed it
I would believe it too
It used to be that when you said you believed it
I'd wanna follow you

But never where the dogs bark, never where the dogs bark

And I remember, praying at the dinner table
For you to come around
Maybe pat me on the back when your able

I've a dream of you with half a face
And you take me to rooftop
And skin me, come on Abel
Are you going to skin me?

And use it as a mask to keep you in the dark
'Cause the shadow of the moon won't do.

Cause I knew, the moon is but a pearl
Stolen from your mothers bedside
The day, you came into the world

Still now I can hear the dogs bark
I can hear the dogs bark
I remember, praying at the dinner table
For you to come around
Maybe pat me on the back when your able
Whole cities light up
But nothing can compare to you baby
So I stay waiting, laying on the dinner table

Waiting for you to Hurt Me, come on Abel
Hurt Me, Hurt Me, Hurt Me
Come down to the world
Cut Me, come on Abel
Cut Me, Cut Me
Serve Me round the table

And now, it's late
I'm on the table
Waiting for you, on the table
To carve it up and watch the splay go across the river bed

And sweet, aromas fill the halls
From all the bodies that came before
And thats the body
I swear thats the body

I remember
I was laying on the dinner table
And when you came around
You said you'll be doing fine, when you're able

Oh, Whole cities light up
But nothing can compare to you baby
So I stay waiting
Laying on the dinner table
Woohh, Hurt Me, Hurt Me, Hurt Me
Woohh, Cut Me, Cut Me, Serve me
Woohhh, Wohhhh
Wooooh, Wooooh

- The Jezabels

You Were Young Once.

For Mary. I know nothing of you, save for your name and that you touched my heart.

You were young once,

Your white hair, sparse and thin, twisted behind your head in a haphazard knot.

Your eyes once glistened with radiance and youth,

You were young once.

In Sunday bests, you sat in the chapel, eagerly awaiting the Sunday fair,

In dresses your mother stitched with such love, you danced at the ball,

Pearls glistening, curls bouncing-

You were young once.

You were a good student in those days. Studious and eager to go as far as the world would allow. And you did.

Your lips once kissed a handsome young man,

Your arms once held a beautiful child-

A perfect mother, caring and mild.

You were young once.

Those eyes that stare with both an emptiness and a longing,

The bittersweet nostalgia that washes over you each day.

What have they seen, those eyes, lady?

What wonders, what history, what change?

What happiness, what troubles, what mysteries that we'll never know.

You were young once.

Your hands tell a story of your past,

Each wrinkle and line a testimony of your life.

These are hands that have seen, felt, held, touched, experienced and lived-

Oh, the history of you.

But you were young once.

And now you have grown old. In the race of your life, you raced only against your years. They have caught up to you.

The eyes that have seen so much- they fail you now.

The ears that heard the carnival sounds, the school bells, the sweet nothings of a lover, the babies cries- they fail you now.

The hands with which you sculpted a life- they are frail, wrinkled, aged.

Nurses lead you to a room in which your life has been confined into the four moss green walls.

They bring you tea and a meal that you know you had once perfected.

The photographs on the wall exist as your only link to the past.

A small piece of the life that you had.

What do you feel, lady? What do you think?

Where is your mind now? Your memories?

You have grown old.

But you were young once.

Lana Del Rey - Paris

Happy Birthday, Mum.

Cough Syrups & Pills Are Making Up About 45% Of My Body Weight Right Now.

And I'm only slightly joking. I am so sick it's ridiculous. What's more ridiculous is how this illness came about. I believe it began with a tickle in my throat on Thursday night. Well, it developed over the weekend and now, lo and behold, I've been in bed for a good three quarters of this day, I've drugged myself up with every relevant medicine in the medicine box, and I've got a whole new set of abs from coughing so much.

A lovely start to the winter holidays, I dare say.

I really hate being sick. Everything aches and throbs and even making a cup of tea to soothe yourself takes effort. But enough of my whining. I intend on being better by tomorrow morning, and so I will not spend another second loathing my sick, sad existence.

Besides, I have things to do and plans to make.

Though it's absolutely of no concern to you, here's a list of the stuff I'm planning on doing:

• Seeing those friends I never get to see: Karen, Kim, Brigitte and hopefully meeting my lovely new friend Meleonie. (Hello, if you're reading this Mel!)
• Going to the Napoleon exhibition and Jewish Holocaust Museum with mum.
• Having a movie night with all my best friends.
• Sanding and painting my new dresser.
• Adding more patches to my patchwork blanket.
• Buying tickets to Gotye and Of Monsters & Men.
• Going to the drive-in's. I dont know who I intend on taking with me. We'll see.
• Op-shopping.
• Using my Dymocks book voucher.
• Putting more money towards my Mexico ticket.
• And finally spending my birthday money on something for me. Something other than food.

If all goes to plan, I'll have accomplished every one of those dot points by the end of my two week break. If not, you'll know I remained sick the entire time..