(this is ...I wouldnt normally do this but the writing is ,..it touched me as did the sentiment..)
xx
m
From: FizzIsThePretty1@aol.com
I have made two pages for the Libertines Fanbook and I fear Peter will neve get to see them and for me he will always be a Libertine.
Please help if it's not to much trouble.
Thank you.
Shelley x
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"""Sat in the lonely hours of a lonely Sunday morning, un-rested and unrelieved of the night before, she wrote a little passage in that battered bright red book.
Something to do with lost love, or found love, or something which I cannot remember.
She often did this now a days, she did a lot of things now, how she’d changed. She had.
Everyone saw it, everyone knew why, but not everyone liked it, but then very few people are great fans of change.
She didn’t like the change, nor did she like the thing that she had changed from, but at least now she disliked herself, not the person she was trying to be.
Taking a sip of warmth from the tea-filled cup which sat beside her she sighed a breath of fresh used air and looked down at her words. They made no sense, but ofcourse they wouldn’t, and anyway, the words would be forgotten in just a few days time, unread from then on, so she thought.
Once, coffee-fuelled and money-driven, she would have never dare to put so much of her mind upon something so minor, time was never spent on unnecessary thought. Now money and coffee and chatter and rumour were not so important, and family and friends were no longer the thing that controlled her doings and her person. The system had lost one of it’s vital links and control was not so inevitable.
She slowly closed the book, and supped the final dregs of her now cold tea and slowly glanced around the hallow little room.
The moon tonight was unnaturally bright, casting huge dark shadows across the dead shell of the place. It was a strange light which flowed in through the misted windows, a crystal white, blue and icy.
She smiled. Asleep in their beds with a head full of gin they all missed the thing she saw.
It was true, her head too was full with toxic mists, but at least it was not bound with the ties of routine.
It wasn’t just liberty and freedom which she had gained, no. And it wasn’t just herself that she had found, she had found something more dear and priceless than any other thing.
Long ago, or not long ago at all, she had lost something she had never really had but always truly knew.
She hadn’t heard the sound in such a long time, she hadn’t felt the rumble of the drum.
She played along and jigged her jig but soon enough it stopped.
Stopped.
She’d lost her faith and love and soon she lost herself, and before she gained her liberty she need something else.
It wasn’t till she got it back that she realised it had gone, but with the return of her greatest love she gained all that she’d wanted.
She heard the music.
A smile crept fast across her face as she thought of all she’d gained, a twinkle shone out from her eyes, it wasn’t just freedom, she her life back and all she could give in return was a few stolen words and a message of thanks.
To you.
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I've long been a fan of the feller's
But not of the ordinary kind.
The thing that we see in these feller's
Is not something easy to find.
It was first I discovered these chaos
Back in 2002,
When a friend handed me a cassette
Which she shared with only a few.
I listened along with my niave ears
and tried to search for a catch,
But all I could see was blind honesty
And ground-shaking music to match.
So now 2 years on I sit once again,
Listening to those same four lads,
Although things have changed, not all for the best,
I'm proud of the chance that I've had.
http://www.intimaria.org