Girl Half Empty

//What an odd thing a diary is: the things you omit are more important than those you put in//
- Simone de Beauvoir
/June winner of the diary competition/

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35. //how the rain did reveal your heart//

13th October

I wonder when school became so counter-intuitive that it told me I didn’t have time to learn to play with my words. Like I was a fork and language was soup. Like my vocabulary was a deck of cards and I was just a paper pyramid. I haven’t the time to learn to deal and reel and steal, only the time to construct things that get blown down when I breathe. And the more school commands me to write, the less time I have to learn how to do so. So I’m just a fountain of vomiting phrases and the more they harry me the more I force myself to puke until I can’t even make sense of all the chewed-up dribble I’m putting down on paper. I’ve lost touch with words. I’ve lost touch with my diary and my characters and myself – just keep my stomach empty and my essays full.

Today I sat in history and quantified how old I was becoming in terms of how many half term holidays I had left before they cease to become a thing.

Today I’m so intoxicated by Ben Howard’s music that it frightens me because love this deep can’t last me forever, even if it is depth over distance. Because what will I become when I stop feeling like a guitar flat sideways can pick me up off the concrete or when a pitch-bent guitar no longer feels beautiful or when his words fail to answer my conversations?

Today our neighbours cremated summer; held a funeral for the cut grass and the hedge trimmings and all the burnt up bits of garden inundated a sky that was already full of grey-leaked cloud. I ran home from school bus so that I didn’t get caught in the rain but, although I still felt like I’d been whirled in a washing machine, the heavens didn’t prise their gates open wide enough for condensation to slip through.

I like the smell of bonfires but I don’t like what they stand for; once upon a time I would have known how to put them into words.

 

 

Words I don't want to break up with:

//Oh you
 Screamed Hallelujah darling,
 startled all the sleeping Starlins on the wire.
 As we walked up the footpath through the fields,
 how the rain did reveal your heart.
 And the rope swing from the balance held the weight,
 shadows fall and a cold wind blows.
 And you said oh maybe we're just lost souls here,
 maybe oh everybody goes.

 Oh we were
 Young oh ho we were young. Oh we were
 Young oh ho we were young.

 Still don't, don't you forget.
 That rope you tied around your neck.

 Don't free you darling, oh oh ho oh ho oh
 Don't free you darling, oh oh ho oh ho oh

 And it took them three days to find you,
 tired torch lights and dog scents.
 Oh they led you down from the highest branches,
 cold eyes and frozen arms.
 And my my my your beauty was so dumbfounded,
 lace white dress and your hair as long as Follaton Woods.
 And the whole town just stood there crying looking at the darkness,
 for something wholesome and good.

 Oh good, oh ho oh oh.
 Oh good, oh ho oh oh.

 Still don't, don't you forget.
 That rope you tied around your neck.

 Don't free you darling, oh oh ho oh ho oh
 Don't free you darling, oh oh ho oh ho oh

  Morning white mist came across the plane,
 blue skies and rain.
 Oh and it was the strangest day,
 people taking cover people holding shame.

 Oh you'd left your
 Heart oh ho oh ho oh. Oh you'd left your
 Heart oh ho oh ho oh. Oh you'd left your
 Heart oh ho oh ho oh. Oh you'd left your
 Heart oh ho oh ho oh. Oh you'd left your
 Heart oh.
 You woulda laughed your heart ah ah ah out//

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