The Planet's More Fucked Up Than I'll Ever Be

Yeah, so I've been going with my "fuck the world" kind of a mood and listening to nothing but the Jesus and Mary Chain and Secret Machines for several days now. There's something about the relentless Scots miserablism married to the dirtiest, sexiest music ever that really makes me... well, not happy. But contented, in that Nico sort of "I'm only ever truly happy when I'm unhappy" way.



Rehearsal was fucking brilliant, which helped. I took my barebones sketch of a JAMC ripoff song ("Just Friends") and started playing it around the living room table as we drank, and next thing I knew, we were *jamming*! No, really! As evidenced by this picture... tee hee. No, actually we were vocally freestyling - I'd sing and play the riff, and everyone else would riff off me, twining their voices round each other, like a musical conversation - which is the *good* kind of jamming, as opposed to the wanky kind.



The song is good and nasty and bitter - inspired by recent events, but more about every disappointment, every stupid line boys use that Kaliflwr and I used to collect in a book when we were younger. (Yeah, the same book that provided half of Imajinary Boyfriend.) But it's also joyous and stomping and grinding and sexy, yeah.

We've arranged Not Afraid and Pwned and are going to try to debut at least Pwned at HDIF. Especially since Marianna and Anna worked out the most BRILLIANT choreography for it. AMPy and I were jumping up and down on the sofa, just watching them, it was so cool. I'm excited to see how it looks onstage.

Mood is improving. I dug out the week's worth of medication that I saved and hid, just in case detoxing from it went horribly wrong, and I've started taking it again. The side effects are pretty grim - headaches, dizziness, that awful metalic taste in my mouth - though some of them are good - loss of appetite, inability to drink, occasional bursts of euphoic daze. It removes your ability make even the simplest of decisions - I stood in a doorway at the Vibe Bar for ten minutes, trying to decide whether to get in a queue or not, until Anna rescued me.

But the horrible up and downs have stopped. My bruised pride is recovering, and I'm starting to feel a lot more positive about myself. These pictures (thanks to Lady Vervaine) help. I never suffer from narcissism because I know I'm fugly, but these are the first photos in ages where I actually like the way I look. Where I think "Damn! If I were a boy, I'd fuck me!" Sorry if this seems vain, but I need it right now.





Also, Anna says I should dress like the Jesus and Mary Chain more often. Apparently it suits me. That's not what my mum used to say in 1985...