The dying fall of my sentences
The magic of lost consequences
The seduction of a fading power
In a hotel room in the middle of nowhere
I’m running out of fantasy…
I don’t expect your sympathy
I’m old, I’m strange, I’m confidential
Has my fantasy run out of delusion?
Has my fantasy reached its logical conclusion?
(I mean, I don’t think I’m edgy, though I do have edgelord moments…and genuinely edgy moments, too. But I personally don’t think I’m all that edgy. I’m pretty boring, at the end of the day.)
my name Isobel, married to myself
my love Isobel, living by herself
Comphet is gonna be the sodding death of me, more news at seven. Probably.
Okay, I admit it, I gave in. I’ve listened to Björk’s two singles released BEFORE “Fossora” is released. Usually I treat Björk albums like boxes of superfine chocolates that I save until release day and then just glut myself on wholly and completely — I mean, it’s Björk. How can you not? But it’s been a butt of fortnight, so I decided to treat myself.
If I can be half as creative and flexible as she is, one day, I’ll consider myself an artist. “Ovule” is a bloody gem, pun wholly intended, and “Atopos” is LIFE.
Folks, I dislike JK Rowling with every fibre of my being, but can we clear something up? Her pen name actually belonging to the shitwit that created conversion “therapy” (torture is torture is torture) is overwhelmingly likely to be a really creepy coincidence.
Firstly, ‘Robert’ is one of the most popular names in Scotland, and also tends to be a family-name handed down — my OzScots ass has a family tree littered with Roberts for the boys and Lilliases for the girls. ‘Robert’ also tends to be one of the most popular names in the whole English-speaking world; it’s not what you’d call rare.
Also, in Scotland, if not the whole UK? Galbraith is not a rare name. It’s not madly common, but it’s definitely a surname that everyone has heard before, at least once or twice.
How do I know? Uh, because I am a Galbraith; or of the Galbraith line, if you want to get super technical about it. And I can tell you that right now, in the UK, there are probably about fifteen to twenty-five Robert Galbraiths in existence, if not more — that’s a conservative estimate.
So, no, it’s not like choosing “Adolf Hitler” for a pen name whatsoever. I’d probably wager that Rowling didn’t even know who created conversion therapy — few people did before this.
Guys, I get it. JK is a stain on humanity, but we really, really don’t have to reach for reasons as to why she is one. Especially not in an onomastic sense.
The doctor gave me pills to take
To stop me feeling quite so awake
To take the edge off of this big black cloud
But now it is quarter to ten
I’ll sit with a paper and a pen
Just writing shit until I fall asleep
I’ve got a heart
I think it’s bigger than yours
Because it lets people in
Who constantly disappoint me
And I’ve got a soul
And it’s as sad as they come
Because it used to feel everything
And now it’s just numb, numb, numb