Sunday, 18 April 2010

Sundays are full of lame

In Finland we like to call Sundays "sacred days," but I'd much rather call them dead days.
Today has slithered by with such pace that a crippled snail would feel like a cheetah, and it's still only 3pm. The sun is bright and scorching, it's burning my skin and considering whether it should give me a melanoma today or tomorrow, or whether I'm even worth one. The patio, or the roof as I call it because it is a roof, not a patio, smells like piss and buttercups due to a rather large number of dogs, cats, and little children. They don't live with us, the roof is joined. Almost open to everyone.
There are thin little glass barriers between the houses.
Once my neighbour walked out while I was up there with my bathrobe, computer and a cup of coffee. He walked right out without saying a word, and I wonder if he's scared of coming on the roof now.

Across the river there is a little clothes shop where a model by the name of Ilanka borrows her modelling clothes. I always see her posing in her super long legs legs attached to super high heels and super short skirts, always in the same spot, same pose. She's 19. I wonder where she lives.

I have to do CAS for my school. I think I'll go to the park and pick up some dog shit, old cans and cigarette butts for a few hours. The little granny on the bench can sign as supervisor. I'm asbolutely serious.
Okay, maybe not.

I wish I had a sewing machine. If I had a sewing machine I could sew my clothes, and change and manipulate and destroy and create. Plus I never have money, so it would be cheaper. I already sew lots of my clothes, but ancient style with a simple needle and thread, and I'd be lying to you if I said it looks good at all.
If I had a sewing machine I would buy a cheap vintage dress from a second hand shop like Episode or Etsy or even fucking Ebay, or two, then merge them together to create something that I love, and that I can wear. To the gala, for example.
Because I have nothing nice to wear to the gala.
And I have no money.
So I hope I get lucky.
But I always get lucky.
In the end.

I think the sun is telling me to leave now.

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