http://www.sonyericsson.com/cws/products/mobilephones/overview/w980?cc=gb&lc=en

So I've been trying out the new Sony Walkman phone for the past week - yes gone is the old Nokia with missing buttons and broken joystick lol

Here's some pics I took of my new flat using the cool 3mp camera

http://www.new.facebook.com/photos.php?id=864050275#/album.php?aid=145483&id=864050275

And some videos of my trying out the weighted feature of the phone - lean the phone left or right to steer the car or shake it to shuffle/change songs!





Theres also 8gb of space for songs meaning the Ipod can be left at home and I can travel around a very happy girl =) (makes National Express trips back to Southampton bliss haha)



Me at twickers station flaunting it about, the phone I mean...*ahem* - and yes Claire that is your scarf =P

Welcome to never never land, the world of abstract streams of abusive obsenities that are thrown our way just to see if we sink or swim, either way we are gods play things....we ARE reality tv, for the untelling eyes of our creator.

If i told you im ok il be lying, if i told you i was feeling hurt id be kinding my self. The truth is im in that unsocialable sofacating hole that we call numbness. Im crying yet no tears flow from my face, however i know my hearts bleeding. Each beat it feably thumps reminds me excactly how pathetic i am.

I feel like im dying within, i AM alone, its not denial... Its not self pity. Its not love sick. Its not loneliness. Its that horrible whole, a scar that runs deeper than i know or understand myself. it scores through my tough skin, the mask i use to distract any extra attention to my decaying body. I hide behind my mask like a shadow cowers behind its master, worshiping the ground it treads on and sending fluttering kisses which lie untellingly. Who needs the truth anyway?

I do.

For too lone i have wollowed in my pool of depression, my issues that blind me from things I should be picking up. My eyes are lying to me and whispering sweet nothings as they know thats what i want to hear. They know i want to feel this pain, i thrive on it. Its the trickle of blood the runs down my soft cream exterior, the deadly red contrasting to the sickly white. Razors tease the skin before taring it unforgivingly, they know that I want it...they know im praying for the next droplet of blood to be my last, to end this torture I put my self under.

My issues lay under that soft grime of denial that builds of from lies and deceit over the years. No one cared then, why should any one care now, im waiting.... waiting for the final push. The grime blinds the outside world ot my true feelings, they wouldnt understand any way even if they could see below; the emotions float unorganised even after the hours of relently picking at my old and new scabs causing them to ooze more and seep out the feelings that bite beneath my skin. Each time the scar gets bigger, each time i avoid the situation more distracted by the far more interesting feeling of pain.

Yes, pain. You know when you see that delightful bloody substance that your going to feel something, feel anything. I dont care. Just take me away from this numb vortex, i pray to the razor. It blinks confused as if id just asked to be healed of cancer - perhaps my chances are higher to be healed with the later disease.

Ive fallen apart, i know it. I dont know if i can stop it, i dont knwo if i want to. All i do know is that blur that frosts over my body is spreading and becoming more rapid each time in infects my mood. Some one save me please, but no one can.

As i said, no matter how many friends or loveones that can surround you, i tore my self with this blade. I infected my self with this illness.

I am alone.

I appoligise....