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I’ve had a productive day and the laxative I took yesterday hasn’t worked. Apparently you’re supposed to take another but if you have this condition in the long term it’s a bad idea. Your body starts to rely on the laxatives. If you take a laxative just before you manage to go and your stomach is empty – then you get serious cramps. Actually if you’ve ever wanted to know what period cramps feel like, it’s like that.

The level of friendship between my audienceship (I was delighted to learn that a viewer read my blog yesterday) and myself has sort of evolved into an exchange about my bowel movements.

We’re in the over-familiar stage of relationship territory. We’re basically related now. Nono, yes.

I say this laughingly but actually toilet jokes and that humour in general grosses me out. I have momentum about speaking about this while it’s bothering me, while I try to sort it out again and I know that there are other people who suffer this that don’t have the guts that I do, to discuss it. Some people are triggered by toilet talk and it isn’t because they demand a super-human-feminine-performance from other human beings. It’s cos it’s a very real form of suffering.

You could be having the time of your life but this is the most like, silent (stop) form of bio-torture you can imagine.

I will stop writing about it because I want to manifest health but my intention really is that other people acknowledge that it’s technically a disability if you shit less frequently than a day or two apart.

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This is a thing I did today, to be productive, for my future self. If you want something to do, find a site that lets you do a thing you like to do and be your most unboring self on it. my most unboring self warns you that it is a mess and it doesn’t meet her standards of graphic design at all but my heart is warmed by my own note to myself so I’m inclined to share. I mean um. Do your future self a favour today. It could be organising a stocking/hosiery drawer. Not that millennials have those. (No, I don’t have one of those. I would like to.)

Bigcartel is one of those customisable sites that let people sell things. I wanted to make a depop account but apparently the entire universe wouldn’t let me do that, so I mosied on over to Bigcartel who are apparently doing a lowkey beta test thing, so you can sign up for a shop for FREE. I actually think that Bigcartel is quite a chic little site for selling things on. This is a designer I like who uses Bigcartel to sell clothes I have dreamt of buying for years and years and years of my life. If you are a weeb, you will like her clothes. 

She is famous because the oui/non tshirts were her thing. This is the director Sofia Coppola in one of those tshirts. Sofia C. directed a lot of films that a lot of trendy hipsters like and that a lot of under twenty-fives don’t know about. My favourite of her films are Marie Antoinette and the Virgin Suicides.

Sofia Coppola is in no small part responsible for Instagram Pastel Goths.

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In the Fashion World it is a big deal if you start or bring in a trend. Eeeven if the trend is leggings or wedges or ballet buns.

I was thinking of this L’ecole Des Femmes dress

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(which I bought after thinking about it for a million yearws) when I bought…

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Didyoureadthispostabout

The most beautiful bag in the World?

I am actually rarely taken by handbags. This handbag is my favourite ever.

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DREAMLAND

I had a busy and expensive evening.

I HIRED A PROGRAMMER FROM >>FIVERR.<<
I’m keeping no secrets about this, you know everything I do is exciting.

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Easter Eggs galore.

It is now 6 AM and SPEAKING OF IXTA EGGS: I made one of those horrendously self indulgent breakfasts. I had to take a break in between the salad and the eggs, to have a pre bacon and soggybread cigarette.

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THE WORDPRESS PUBLISH BUTTON HAS GONE FUCHSIA. TELL EVERYONE.

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screen shot 2019-01-10 at 06.46.36 < before this point of my entry I was at 77 words.

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So – I have spent the last year or so on and off tidying up my room and I’ve reached a breakthrough with my sofa. Have you been watching Marie Kondo on Netflix? YOU NEED TO. I MEAN YOU DON’T HAVE TO OR WHATEVER BUT YOU NEED TO. SHE TAUGHT ME A GARMENT FOLDING METHOD. SHE HAS SAVED ME. #rectanguru

Also ma was really kind about buying Miss Kittie this beautiful pink poodle.

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I’m so Cartman’s mom

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meets Mr Garrison.

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P I N K

In, I think, about forty minutes I will fall asleep. My sleeping pattern is so so so kdljfsdfkgjsdfg. It’s fine – by the end of this weekend a load of things I’ve commissioned will become available to me. So exciting. To me. So… I live a lot in Dream Land (asleep or awake) … I’ve kind of walked around taking snaps of stuff. I really like documenting transitional phases, is fun

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I have almond oil in my hair. I put it on my legs too because my skin gets dry – it takes awhile to work but it does work and it’s inexpensive. I love a good “beauty” hack. If you want flowey locks you should invest in some kind of natural oil. When I was living with Lisa she told me that I should buy toiletries – creams etc – from shops run by black people (she is black, she can call black people black) and I actually bought this oil from a shop run by a brown person. (Using colour to collectively describe a culture is probably beneath 2018-internet, but I watched a Wendy Williams video where she described “white” people as “pink” and I wasn’t offended. Also I only look “white” / “pink”.) Shut up – this is boring dialogue – this rant is so I-need-to-sleep-I’m-typing-for-the-sake-of-typing-when-I-wake-up-I-will-cringe-wince.

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I got a cute duvet cover & pillow case. I’m waiting for a new sheet… This one has residue from some spray-painting stuff I’ve been doing. I don’t really have the best/safest work practices and I wiped a lot of pink spray paint out of my nose. But actually it’s kind of made me think that there should be super-light-tie-dye-ombre-faded-washes of bed clothing. V cinematic. To me.

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My room divider is nice. Everyone should have a room divider.
blog9stuff.pngI got a wig of a haircut I had a long time ago. Ugh it reminds me of this girl I was at uni with who literally only ever looked good when she and I were friends. I told her I saw a girl in topshop with short hair and a cute messy-grungey fringe and a top knot bun. She got a bob and I called it “the edwardian monk bob” on twitter when we weren’t talking. She was gossiping about me with people I wouldn’t of given the time of day, one time legit ran crying to our pervert landlord next-door-neighbour about mess our other housemates had left, particularly in the kitchen (around this time I actually wasn’t really eating very much – because I was catatonic because I couldn’t trust anyone – people thought I was paranoid because I was smoking weed – first of all, weed acts as a magnifying glass that enhances your intuition) and second of all – if you grow up around people you can’t trust, you attract people into your life that you also cant trust. It’s a cyclical behaviour and a truth of “human” behaviour that any counsellor will confirm with you. One day I’ll be awarded a complimentary PhD for my services to both psychology & psychiatry. Really.)

When I was super ill – and by ill, I mean freaking out about stuff like my boyfriend cheating on me with most (if not all?) of my friends, being robbed of stuff (five grands worth of Saffron. Pity the guy who created that karma..), being discussed by people – confronting the people who discussed me and being called names, severe anorexia, being so broke that I had no heating, being ditched by everyone that I actually really cared about… Reliving unfortunate childhood memories I had tried to forget over and over. Casually ignoring I’d had about three miscarriages (one time, a hobbit girl stood in the doorway of my kitchen talking with great passion about her super-ultra-deep feelings for about five hundred different guys, while I quietly started heating up/shaking and out of nowhere just started bleeding onto that Ikea Ofelia blanket I had on our red “sofa” and said quietly “oh I’ve just had a miscarriage” – to which she responded “oh” and then continued talking about these boys, while I ran to my room and put a pad on – and then dabbed at the blood with the kitchen sponge . She didn’t ask if I was okay or anything because obviously this chat was incredibly important. Anyway – people call me self absorbed and I thank every fucking star on the Planet (I’m leaving ‘Planet’ there because I typed that automatically, but the intended words were ‘in’ and ‘the Universe‘) that I am because if I wasn’t, I would not have survived. Anyway all of this happened, then later I realised I’m a medium – I channeled Jung and Freud at the same time. Ha.

Not insane or even actually mentally ill – just absorbent of other people’s emotions about both themselves and me, absorbent of their insanity (of which insecurity..) and mental illnesses, like depression. A weird sponge.

That girl also had a lot of things to say about my depression, that is a discussion for a more honest time. I give it about eight months. Actually she’s in my graphic novel. I did a lovely little drawing of her. She may well be the only person I’ve illustrated myself and the likeness is uncanny.

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If you look through the divider this is what you see. Fascinating right?

I bought this from Etude. Is nice. Everyone should have one.

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The upstairs hallway is being done up. I probably said before.

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These doors were installed years ago by one of my dads Arab friends? Contacts? Someone my dad knew. This door. When it comes to interiors my mother is .. uh. She pretends that she had nothing to do with this mess – it’s really, really funny.

A friend of my mother’s called Jessica, who we knew in Dubai (She used to escort distraught foreign women who had come over to the U.A.E to marry ((often abusive, actually)) Arab men – through airports – leaving behind their children.) used to joke that my family were the Simpsons.

I guess it’s true

I digress for a funfact – did you know that the internet started using ‘warm’ colours because of Godsgirls.com? A photographer called Matthew Cooke brought that in. The influence of Aesthetics is so so subtle. He, Lithium Picnic, Kelly Lind and Cherry from SuicideGirls were my favourite photographers – aside from Araki, Arnulf Rainer and also that David Lynch shoe-fetish collection of Louboutins. Y’know Instagram filters? They happened because of people like Lara Jade and even Felice Fawn (Who at 14 had a – dressed – self portrait stolen and used for a pornography. If I were her I’d have loved it)

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I get the concept of a “self hating” Jew. If anyone ever wonders – I don’t hate that I’m Arabic. If I did – I assure you I could offer you a huge list of reasons as to why it would be justified – but I actually quite like it. Apart from the like, body hair and stuff. Ive been conditioned to hate that. Like you’ve been conditioned to neg me for it.

Some Persian guy once pointed out something pretty cool about body hair – when someone is around you, the hair on your arms responds to it. He was a piece of shit though. But so was pretty much every guy I hung out with at University, even the white ones with the fanciest british accents. But y’know, men from every culture find some way of abusing women. Perhaps one day some brave woman will write a book about the abuses indigenous to various cultures. I heard Somalians are quite into female genital mutilation and beating women. British boys are into date-rape drugs and also beating women. Vikings are also into date-rape drugs. Indian guys like to harass women from cultures outside of their own, because within their own culture theres always some auntie that knows their mum. I’m more of an other-hating Jew really, I hate everyone

I’d probably really fit in in Israel actually

So uh, amongst the many thoughts/dreams/premonitions/etc that go through my skull when I’m staring – this is how I experience the entrance to my mother’s bathroom. My dad paid someone to do that. My mother let someone leave her house in that state. (The incompletely-painted floor happened years ago – when my mother started painting it… and then her leg snapped in two the day I had a pretty serious surgery.)

B A B Y P I N K

Different people have different methods of getting things done, and I think the majority of successful people are the sort that focus their attention onto a single project at a time. At one point I felt an inability to be consistent with any single idea I had, so I would often start things that would never see completion. Or I’d just not-do-anything. I am the kind of person that simply cannot find any satisfaction in focusing my attention onto a single project at a time. I am too easily inspired, too happily occupied by a vast emotional spectrum that dominates how I spend my time and how I express myself. I need a project per mood, I also need enough self acceptance to do nothing-at-all. The One-Thing-At-A-Time method DOES NOT work for me. I like to have many little projects going at once, and I work on whatever invites the least resistance in me. Kind of like a bee hopping from flower to flower. It might take a lot longer to get a result – but if I limited myself to a single thing: I would never get anything done. Nothing about me is one-tracked. I have a lot going on internally.

I think I wrote this incase someone like-minded wanted some validation for their internal conflict. Like – maybe you’re inundated with ideas that are fighting over your headspace. Maybe you do yourself a great disservice by only picking one. ANYWAY

Firstly: >> I recently blogged about a zine I intend to self publish << and my >> call for submissions << is ending in 2ish days. I’m about twenty five or so pages into putting it together and I’m very happy. I don’t have the desired 77 pages… but there’s still time. If you would like to be published in a glossy indie zine maybe you should >> check it out. <<

Secondly: This is an early-stage mock-up of another project that I am quite excited about. I’ve been on/off doing this for years. I guess I just really wanted to finally share. I am in a sharing mood, which is kinda unusual for me – in school I was the kind of person to keep my work hidden from everyone else. At my BA degree show I exhibited my work under ‘Anonymous’.

I’ll show you but I’ll keep it relatively ambiguous. It looks nothing like the new version I’ve been gradually working on for the last few months.

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