Don't worry

dismiss the last post I was a little angry - I didn't mean it all, if anyone reading this took it literally then don't

And so it goes...

RIGHT NOW (Korn)

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Play this video when you read this post, it says it the way it is.
I am hurt and confined, bubbling rage and insane contempt. The story is of everday, but as tensions in my life twist around themselves, wringing my loathing and pain into a scorching destructive, and menacingly dangerous weapon.
Just one more comment from a self-righteous shithole that laughingly goes by the name of James. I cannot speak what I feel for him, we will pass from time to time and perhaps a smile will pass over my lips, perhaps I will forgive but I will never forget. His pointless, flat existence shames his weak petulant body, the soft souless vehicule from which spout his outtcries of abuse and malignation. Fuck him, his family and every soul that may have ever(my mind boggles!)found comfort in his company.
I wish him all the fucking pain and hurt and grief and shame and terrible loss this world can possibly offer.
Fuck him, and fuck you if you so as much as like this fucking shithead-I wish murder was legal more than ever.
Cunt cunt cunt cunt!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
And fuck those that laugh with him. You're all dumb arseholes. get the fuck out of my face unless you want my fucking knife cutting raw hunks of meat out of your shit-filled faces.
I am hate.

Linkin Park - Reporting from Inside my head

MY DECEMBER (Linkin Park)

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I love this song-I hadn't heard it much until I got hit by it in the car on my ipod shuffle.
I feel terrible. I can't remember much-gin and juice doing its stuff as per usual.
I have just crunched through 90mg's of Morphine and 20mg's of valium. A last ditch effort at feeling good. Listen to this song-it speaks louder than words. This is my December.

Tired of sleep.

Sixteen hours, so little has changed and good riddance to another wasted day. Sixteen hours wrapped in the arms of sleep and I'm hurting and afraid, angry and sad. I have no control and this is it for me, the drudgery of shit, shave shower and hunt for food, clambering through the detritus of age old happiness and finding nothing but blank looks and a fuck you for being late.
A draw full of short-term solutions and good times sits there so damn powerful. So much to do and so much time, but it must be done - not today, today is sitting wondering what should have been if I were more, if I were not fucking pinned to lethargy and introversion and sad hours alone fighting my urges and sick repercussions for my sins.
Tired once more. Tired of running. Tired of answers. Shivering to the cold bone inside me. fed up. Just fed up.

Living in pieces. One day at a time.

I'm just tired, that's it, tired. Also suffering from my excesses last weekend. Blah, just tired. Another 2 hours left of my class this evening. This is the break. Back to work.
I will write tomorrow. find some nice tunes to put on.
Just tired.Tired. Tired.
Peace.

Life's a bitch then you die?!

Life can be a turd at times and I was gonna put on a video by Nas - You know "life's a bitch and then you die" - but I found this song instead. Put a smile on my face. Click on the link.

BRIDGING THE GAP (Nas)

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My game

What a day for a daydream, the window is pretty and the feeling in my head is tasty. It's such a good day to think about the inside- the silly niggles and nodules of interest that are pushed aside. I'm happy to sit and I feel it is all accomplished- all round and shiny and empty. No emotion just empty smile and eyes filled with retreat. Hours are days and who am i to care when there is nothing to care about. Lie down and submerge, gulp crunch drink, just enough to continue inside, tunneling to your soft touches and to forget.
It's all so easy in my dreams, like playing games. Games where I play myself, I can always win when it's good. Lose when it's bad, and it's always bad in the end. But when it's good it's very good.
Crunch, gulp, swallow. Chew on a grim future. But what's a future when there's no time, no today, no now. All my game, my war-game, my battle.
With my gun over my shoulder I flail in the mist, trying to find myself when I'm too happy to care if I do or not. It's a war and I don't care.
I'm warm and beautiful and all I see is pity.

Codeine itch. I'm all itchy-nice itch, itchy-witch,yaha!

I'm free again. wooee!! Done my exams so am suffering from alcohol poisoning again. well actually I drunk a load of codeine aswell so spent the day in bed. HMM, all is still clutching to the edge of good, and cheer is not far away, weekend on it's way and holiday sun fun too.

Anyway, here's a link to a song that I love, by HIM a Danish band that kicks ass. a bit cheesy but hey, if you're feeling solitary this song is a great pick me up. Goth rock rocks! Something to listen to when you're checking out my site. Who knows.

It's also obvious that I've just learnt how to put music on this blog, the choice is limited but I'm doing my best-ho hum.

As for me, am starting to feel a bit warm and fluffy, scratch scratch. Into tomorrow; Tomorrow, hand in hand with my little phosphate friend, skip skipping- discovering new worlds, new people, new shit.

This is the new shit. Bring it on...

SOLITARY MAN (H.I.M.)

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I'M NOT A SLAVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

THE FIGHT SONG (Marilyn Manson)

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Bubbly, honey goodness...

Glowing feelings of grinning pride and sunshine smiles, life is sat in my hand gurgling and soft, lighting the road with toothy grins and back-slapping cheeriness. Flowers blossom in my guts and joy of spring sprouts shoot through my tendons sweeping, dust and broom-like through my toxic body spreading trails of warmth.
Bright and early and torching my way through the final day of exams, open hearted and clean - fresh like watermelon and gift-wrapped in carefree.
Bring it on, my day is already made.
May it be like this forever.
Happy 'rainbow rythms' to all of you out there,
Two fingers to you all in the nicest sense of those words!
Merlin
One step closer to the fire...

Six weeks to live

I just woke and the smell of living made the world stand on end, my walk to the shop had me thnking of feet and the drab smell of existence. Everything so strong and dominating forcing its way into my experience without thought for my feelings. I never wanted this, I never knew till it was too late, never new failure till I had crossed the finishing line. Children spin and fall and stand up tall and I'm just too tall to remember who I used to be. I'm just travelling too fast, and with too many memories and regrets for this day to ever be more than just a scratch in the fabric of my fall into nothing.
Play you lucky fuckers, I'll just watch this time, because today there's no hurry, no rush to meet my deadline, because six weeks to live is just enough to let you know that there's no gain in worry.
Rotting feet and grey cold mornings. Ploughed fields and scarecrow sqwarkings. Clocks ticking and bread for the dawning of a new day. I just want more of this,this elegant parade of purpose, this march to the music of time, this play that will contnue after I am gone.
Six weeks of what?
I'll never know.