2013-08-29 / 11:31 a.m.

Withdrawal symptoms. The most haunted house in Europe. Tequila. Electric brain shocks. Panic. Dread. Wanting to be alone. Gaining weight. Missing Suzanne. Stomach problems. Bad skin. Empty bank account. Sleep. Sleep. Walking the dogs. Coincidence. Fire alarms. Bad movies. Orange is the new black. Dead skin. Hair removal. Stress. Headaches. Breaking down. Hiding. Memories. Books. Wagging tails. Regret. The inability to stop thinking about him. Self help workbook. Bowler hat. Neediness. Talking too much. Not having an answer. Only having interest in irrelevant things. Six in the morning, wearing a fairy dress and begging him to take me to the park. Sitting at the bus stop. Sitting in the train station. Sitting in the dressing room. The button came off my jeans before I wore them. Leggings. Zombies ate my friends. Instagram. Bashfulness. Coca Cola. Fly spray. "Silly old wasp". Flat tyre. Venetian blinds. Luke moved to Australia. New glasses. Antoinette. Not wanting to go camping. Not wanting to try archery. His ex. Ex-heroin addicts. Smack dealers. Cheap Playstation games. Sonic. Daiquiris. Sleep. The Notebook. Susan Sontag. Diesel engine. 131/132. Changing guitar strings. Sweaty blankets. Crack in my laptop. Thesis. No ideas. Inspiration. Lack of conviction. Stretch marks. Never visiting Statia. Cancer. "The big C got her. She was hit by a Car". Leopard print. Chris O' Dowd. Tobacco. Randy. Googly eyes. Charles Bukowski - "�I will remember your small room, the feel of you, the light in the window, your records, your books, our morning coffee, our noons, our nights, our bodies spilled together, sleeping, the tiny flowing currents, immediate and forever. Your leg, my leg, your arm, my arm, your smile and the warmth of you who made me laugh again.� His anger at my sadness. My sadness at his anger. Kidney stones. Mascara. Belfast. The Titanic. Banana ice-cream. Tattoo. The Little Prince. Alice in Wonderland. He who doesn't know how to make me laugh. Me who knows not to cry.