There were today cut flowers in a bin. Placed stem first into a bin outside the local chippy.Pink daisy, yellow carthamus and purple iris wrapped in plastic wrap head to the sun. Price tag removed.

One: The buyer – only hours ago browsing sainsburys for the perfect bunch. Roses are too obvious, potted too messy, one that looks amazing but £15! on something that’s going to die. No. The resolve of this mission was dying, wondering around the flower islet there it was: A pink daisy that was as pretty and perfect as she was.

Knock, knock, knock.  Adjust tie, wine label forward. Smile. Click, open.


Click, close.


“Miriam, you’re not even going to talk to me!”


Click, open. 

On the outside a sigh of hopefulness – slightly blustered – trying to remember the lines practised in the car.

On the inside a sigh of hopelessness – slightly pitying – trying to remember if she was ever really happy.


After an indeterminate number of seconds, minutes, hours, he walked, stumbled, ran, to the corner crouched, two, three, four blinks no tears. Sitting in the car tears unabashedly mixed with vinegar soaked chips an open bottle between his legs cigarette ash everywhere.

Two: 20-something girl – who has never know love or heartbreak picks flowers from said bin with surprised delight at her colourful luck, tucks them under her arm while eating her vinegar soaked chips. They now sit on her kitchen table.


Passion needs no match.

What do you say to someone whose heart is on fire?
Do you tell them that they are just a liar
not worth the time, not worth the burning tears
Can you really remove all their worthless fears;
Of being left again, of burning forever.

The fire in her heart, in her loins spreading,
spreading through her entirety. The fire is breathing,
breathing without oxygen. How her flames grow
with ev’ry second passing with ev’ry second woe
of being left again, shall I burn forever.

Love doth make my faint heart bleed

Does a heart bleed?
Does it not constantly leak?
A whole muscle dedicated to pushing blood out of itself
How ever much forces through the gates, ousts as quickly
And when my bleeding heart ceases will you come with me?
My certainty tells me that my heart bleeds for you,
So does it not seem fitting?
My heart does not pump blood
Rather it rejects it, it hates it, and it is never relieaved
But some would say it was worth it
Some romantic poet, Keats perhaps?
He would most definitely say it was worth it
Worth the pain of my heart in that my soul could meet you
And whence our bleeding hearts end, can it not be for vanity
That I knew you


Rammi. For those internet trolls and lurkers out there you may have heard of her, she is on about every networking site imaginable. Known as the ‘self-proclaimed taser girl’ on Plurk, with them giving her her own emoticon . Ms. Ramon loves her tasering, metaphorically of course, my Christmas card was even decorated with miniature taser baubles. She usually uses it as explanation of rage “I will taser you!”

All this tweeting and posting and general intweweb exploring have given her numerable contacts, with which she somehow manages to persuade to do the most odd things. Her blog domain was brought for her and she even persuaded a musician from L.A to write and record her a song, and then to rewrite it. Her connection with the music business does not stop there, getting herself invited to ‘extra’ in many a music video, and has made herself quite known in real life as well, being invited and attending things such as protests, political conferences and maybe her most formidable annual ‘no pant’s day’. Formidable because she was pictured in the metro baring all save a tee and red and white spripy knickers, which circulated all the secondary schools  and lead to a very awkward conversation with her Bob Dylan obsessed English teacher.

What I love most about her is her love of everything shiny and sparkly things, in fact it surpasses all importance. One time when her and I were in a store, she literally squeed and ran to this sequined thing causing extreme embarrassment to everyone involved, except her good self  who was just blissful in her sparkly haven. She is also sort of stuck in the 90’s and the 21st century at the same time. The 90’s because of her aforementioned love of all that’s silver, the music (esp. Spice Girls) and Leg Warmers. The 21st century so that she can contact half the world and update them on every second of her life, like her computers 0 rpm. She also has money, and uses it, one to feed her iTard love, with a mac book an iPod and considering an iPad, because it is shiny, but decided to omit the idea for lack of hand space. And I’m sure that is just scratching the surface of that what is Ramon, but in her own words: “I just can’t be arsed to finish.”


After reading lemonade grenade parade’s most recent post, I started to look into the concept of marriage and love and whether or not, she had the right idea. I’ve always been one to believe that marriage on a whole is a good thing. There’s the stable relationship and commitment sure, but I’m sure the real reason is boredom, and out of this comes an excuse for a party. Most  little girls (and a few boys) dream about their wedding day when they grow up, mainly because society will have them believe it’s the best day of their lives, the planing and thought that goes into every little detail screams out to us because we’re all designers at heart (and if not  there’s always wedding in a box).  And to be honest I’m looking forward to the planing more than the wedding itself, and I’m not alone, so really is there much difference then living together as two people who are in love, and the label that is Man and Wife, apart from all the new silverware? In some cases marriage is somewhat a joke, for something that take a lot of work to get out of, people get married without a lot of consideration. upon browsing such sites as I mean what would make you marry a man who would tell you that he doesn’t love you over a CoD microphone during multiplayer three years into your so-called marriage? And I’m sure everyone would say no. But how do you know that’s where life would lead you as you’re standing in that white dress.

Ah, love, it can blind you that is for sure, but I still hold that you should be sure of who your future spouse is, taking CoD bride as an example, were there not inkling of his personality that would not be good for long-term. but what is love anyhows? A question that many have tried to answer, the most well-known for wedding ceremony is in the bible; in Paul’s letter to the Corinthians. Which begs the question, if love means never insisting on your own way, why do so many relationships end? Are we humans so innately selfish that we can’t even put aside our differences for the sake of love. Love – apparently, the most beautiful emotion. Who knew?

I apologise to Shinzo perhaps it isn’t cynical, since a working relationship one that’s only lasted till death is death itself, or a hopelessness; that this is as good as it’s gettin’, so may as well live with it. I’ve always had problems with war and injustice, wondering why it was so easy to hate, than talk through your problems and just be happy. But it seems that people will always choose the easier option. But at least with marriage, ‘denying the truth’, there are good intentions, the same good intentions one may have when going into war, maybe one will fight and hate, out of love. A common theme among my friends is, that if someone hurts them, instead of us being the better person and encouraging  said hurt party to move on, we’ll go ape-shit on culprit. Not sure what I have proved here, but hopefully we can all get along and maybe there is some truth, to “better to have loved and lost, than to have never have loved at all.”

Although you could always get a Japanese pillow lover, that shit’ll never leave you.