cold memories and new problems

It's dark and it's cold and wet on the floor. My fingers have no feeling, the street lights are harsh and annoying. Warmth comes with his smile, but it's only pretend. It's only so he won't leave me here alone. With a phone and my wallet I could have called a taxi, but why did I leave them at home? I guess in all my wildest dreams I never thought him capable of this... Now all I see is his blonde hair, dark clothes and sinister grin. Now all I see is the park bench across the pavement path, illuminated by the street light above, the fog pumping from his mouth as he breathes hard. Darkness to my left, darkness to my right. I'm lost, and alone. I feel the disgust... It wasn't supposed to be this way.

I start to feel stupid, I start to feel that disgust creep up into my stomach as he kisses me, the silence of the morning being broken by his heavy breathing. His hands are freezing, as he touches my stomach... On my hands and knees, praying, waiting for it to be done with. Not how I imagined it would go, our first 'date'... How romantic it truly seemed?

And it's over, he's doing up his pants and I'm looking for my dignity... Shaking, I pull a cigarette from the packet and fumble with the lighter. Anything to get that taste of his tongue out of my mouth, anything to wash away the pain of the last 10 minutes...

That's all I really remember, but I remember so well... Next thing I know I'm back in the now, back in this room sitting with my legs folded, clutching onto this blog so I don't stray back into that memory...

They called him harry, because his last name was Potter. Should have named him something else, because there was no magic in anything he did. Broken, lost, he was angry inside. Why I don't loathe him, I don't know why. A perfect stockholme candidate I would be, but not now, not all these years later. So why, my friends, do I keep reliving his face? I relive the others too... Why is it that it all comes back to me now, when all my other memories haunt me?
Something to trap myself with, when I'm in the dark... I can hear his voice, feel his hands around my waist, and know that it's the now, that I'm safe in his room... I feel each kiss with precision, each breath that brings love... I try with all my might to feel something, to feel anything but for some reason all that greets me is numbness. Like I'm as stiff as a plank of wood, like every inch of my body is under attack. Four years into the future, and the past comes rushing at me to break my lover's heart.
When there is so much focus on sex, it's hard to break out of the fear. I feel such an immense pressure to perform, to do so even when I don't want too... Like it's a duty, some task that must be done. It seems to always be on his mind, though I know it's because he loves me, he's my boyfriend, he wants to make me happy... I want to want it again, I want to feel that rush of pleasure more than anything but for some reason it's left me. I lay so still beside him, I try to pretend to sleep so that it won't make him feel bad but he never gets the hint, he always keeps going until I'm at the point where I want to scream... It's so confusing and hurtful and I don't know why it's happening. I'm so lost.

I don't want to feel this way, I don't want to be a bad girl friend. I don't want to hurt him either, but in that darkness, the memories come back, the feeling comes back and I'm no longer with the one that I love but with a snake, writhing and wrapping it's body around my neck. I feel totally out of control, trapped into a corner. If the fear doesn't get me then the guilt certainly will. Am I damned? What is wrong with me?

Why can't I feel lustful? Why must these things plague me? Will I ever be free of this blight that eats away at me? Will I ever stop hurting those that only wish to love me? Am I truly nothing but evil, catching hearts and never returning them, ruining and breaking and hacking and burning? My soul fills with tears... That in my efforts to bring peace to myself, I have brought suffering onto the innocent. What if this fear never goes away? What if the past forever breaks my present? All I want is to stop focussing on that which makes me so frightened, to break to breathe for a moment... And when ever I turn him away, and see that look in his eyes, I want to claw out my own throat and crawl to a dark space to die, because knowing that I'm the soul reason behind his unhappiness is worse to me than death. What I would give to fix this, to put a stop to it... If I only knew how, if I only knew what I needed to do to see this through...

God forgive me for the sin I've done, for the hate I've felt, forgive me for letting another take what wasn't theirs to take; forgive me for creating these problems for myself. I talked to the devil about what I could feel and see, and sin has followed me since, regardless of my love for God, they have followed me, trapped me with fear... I need the council of the lord, deliver me into absolution, I'm so sorry for it all, sorry for everything. Is the forgiveness of God enough to cure a blackened soul? Can God even touch those that are damned for a life in hell? It was all my fault, all my choice...
I chose to conjure to conspire with them, I chose to give up my body than to be abandoned, I chose to smoke the pipe and to spend my inheritance and to let him touch me... It was all my choice, a life of sin. Why should I question what is happening to me? When all I have given the God that loves is sin, when I finally find love, the sin has come back to ruin it. They never stopped following me, soft, un nerving. I feel so close to slipping back into old ways, old habits...

If that which I hate takes that which I love, through my own doing, through whatever is happening to me- I will forsake my god, return to all that I could see, return to all that followed me, the shadows fading in and out, in and out, all the figures, all the people, everything that made me feel insane... If I lose this because of that past, I will lose my mind.

Like the Mother, and the Rock

The post that was once placed here, is now re-edited with this one simple improvement...



















                            What the fuck was I thinking?

forgetting what makes me cry

I have put myself somewhere, a place I've never been. Where are the ghosts that haunt my steps? Where is the shadow that follows me, day after day, filling my heart with misery and guilt?
I feel no sadness now, I feel no shame for the decisions I've made. I feel only a numbness, not empty and hollow but soothing and good for the soul. Perhaps I've come to a point in my life where I no longer fear the thought of breaking something or someone... That all that I once hated myself for, I have thus accepted.
I'm beginning to realise, that good things seem to happen when I'm not doubting myself. I trusted my decision to return to my home, and thus it seems that Life has rewarded me. I find happiness, always now, when I look into my eyes. I feel true, I feel almost blissful constantly.

Does it make me a bad person? That I sit here glowing with this incredible inner light, a discovered new power that I have over myself when I've broken so many hearts and caused so much pain? I don't want to simply be a person who doesn't feel bad because she doesn't care for others and their misfortune but something in me literally stops me from digging up that empathy for the people once close to me... I try to envoke it, I seek it out but to no avail.

It concerns me... I have prided myself on my ability to empathise and help others, and I should care whether my actions effect the lives of others but something in me just stops me from giving a shit anymore; like when I got on that plane and left Adelaide a great cord around me was cut and thus when I try to reconnect with any feeling I ever felt for David-- It's almost as if no feeling ever existed, my mind and my heart search and search to try and remember what it felt like but I fail every time... This was my last relationship! Shouldn't I be hurt by our breakup? Shouldn't I even care a little?
Maybe I came home so badly broken and hurt by our relationship that I simply killed any last shred of affection that I had, simply locked it up somewhere within myself and buried it too deep to find again. ...

oh apathy, apathy where are you now? Conflicted in the absense of pain- morally speaking I should be heartbroken; however not being heart broken is a nice change of pace... Maybe this is my break from it? Maybe I mourned the loss of our relationship whilst I was still there, I did have such a long time to come to terms with the fact that we would never work out. Am I becoming some kind of soulless monster? Or is this my way to a clean conscience through releasing myself from my self hatred and guilt?
A trap or freedom? A blessing or an omen? Gotta get used to feeling this way, it's been way too long since I felt okay with being me.

Maybe- I have let go of my rediculous quest to find true love! If it does exist, I don't think I care, cuz every time someone says they love me, it seems to mean they dont have to try anymore. I don't think I mind, whether it's love or not, so long as they are treating me the way I want to be treated. There are people in my life like that now- people that don't control or command, that don't make me feel like I should be anything other than what I am- and not only that, but they're INTERESTED in who I am, people who want to delve into what makes me this person, and they cherish how unique I am. I'm not too childish, or immature, or not proud of myself enough or too clingy and annoying... People that don't whince away from me when I hug them, that never ask for space and never physically leave me alone. THAT speaks to me more than a word that gets thrown around all the time. That speaks to me more than someone who says they love me, yet tells me to never speak to them of memories that are misfortunate or bad, yet never opens themself to me, yet calls me a child and chides me for not doing his dishes during the day. Who never touched me with love, who never gave me the simple joy of bearing it all together, rather than holding it all back when I'm standing with arms open feeling humiliated.

I'm not guilty, I'm not sad, I am simply who and what I am... And when I look upon my lifes journey and come across the time I spent in Adelaide, I don't think anything that was said or done during that time will mean anything other than this lesson: Forget about trying to find someone who says they love you, find someone who doesn't begrudge or try to change who you are, but accepts and cherishes who you are, and encourages that within you.

I'm not but I am

It's all music to me, wringing through my ears. Total transformation, for what seemed like an eternity alone is now all smoke, all simply shifting into nothing but a memory. I don't remember the anger or the fear anymore; I don't remember my heart fluttering either. How could I have known otherwise? Was such an endeavor simply a waste of time?

I have grown so much, learned so much but to what end? At what cost? This effects more than just me, it always has. So foolishly I threw words around, words that I cherish. It should have been clear a long time ago to me but what I lost in time won't be forfeited in the lesson itself- I made a mistake, an error in judgement. What I pushed in the past now is decaying the future, but like something that is trapped and must be freed, what returns in freedom is real, it lasts forever.

Am I disappointed in my mistakes? Not really. I am only human, in the grand spectrum of life, what's 8 months to the many years left awaiting me? It's a shame that others get hurt, that others are made a party to our ignorance, and for that I can only apologize so many times. This is not the first time I've hurt someone, not the last either. I hope that when it's all fed and watered I'll be able to finally have the resolve I want from those who have suffered by my hands. That time is not now, and won't come for a while.

I have realized what I think I really want in life, though trying to articulate that here would do it no justice... I think I just want to be myself, and be loved for it by not just one person, but many. to not let go of whats important, and to know the right time when letting go is the best thing for everyone. I have limits, that I can't deny; and being this far away from what I wanted to work on for so long is just making it all a whole lot worse. It's not my fault, nor is it his; but purpose is something that I often mistake and right now I'm full of doubt. Was it the right thing to do? For me- Yes, but for us? Probably not. I feel like the reasons that I ventured out of state for kinda changed once going away...
The clarity of being completely isolated from my life gave me an insight into myself, it was like a time of grounding. I accomplished much for myself on a personal level, though what I learned didn't involve David to the same extent. I stopped being constantly at odds with my conscience, I stopped fighting myself in mind and spirit. I embraced the truth of myself, remembered the things I valued and the things I didn't.

Living out of a suit case was kinda like stripping myself of all my worldly possessions, I didn't feel so attached anymore to all the 'things' in my house, my life, my wardrobe. I had to get by with what I had, and I enjoyed the humble life. As for starting the relationship with David from that personal view, finally a reality, finally something real- I was met with many challenges. 'Nothing worth doing in life is easy'- I used to tell myself that to justify how challenging it all really felt to me. Now I'm not so sure- when it comes to love- things should flow, like a liquid energy. Things should be given, shared, enjoyed. There was no flow with our love, no effortless way to express myself. This is what I struggled with the most- that as I would try to engage affection, I felt constantly reproached. I was not myself there, I didn't feel like the me I had always known so well.

What does this mean? I'm not really sure. I can't really base any final conclusions on these mere thoughts alone. I just don't know how else I can get them out of my head right now. Talking, talking is so permanent; and when I've based such little faith in the power of my words in the past- perhaps I'd be better off at this point just writing thoughts down before committing them to a conversation.

I am so happy to be home, and little of me is pained by my return; even when I think back at the one that I left. This hurts me, the fact that not even memory can inspire for me a shred of yearning or pining for the place that was my home for so long... Not David's fault at all, if anything he is more a victim of this than me. Through the recent years that have passed, all my life in Perth has cracked, crumbled, and thus been rebuilt. The family I have come to love so much and respect so much, once in total divide, is now stronger than ever. To be apart from that, was just too much for me to bare.
Time cures everything, and I know that soon my mind and heart will run in synch again. Just needed to type some shit out, and remember what my day is for.

A family dinner, not quite formal but not casual enough to say fuck and god damn at the table. A girl, tired, stressed... Dropped home by the busy mother and left to figure out her head on her own. What she would find in there, she didn't know. Two simple tasks and 4 hours to complete them in: Make a fucking apple cake and ring the man she's been dying to talk too all day. Simple enough right?

DISTRACTION.

Half a cake made and the phone sitting beside me. Open door, slammed closed. I NEED THE OVEN I NEED THE OVEN, confrontational twitches and not at the best of times... times... what is the time? PANIC PANIC PANIC. The family arrives soon but she is alive enough to feel the need for her nicotine. Just fifteen minutes would be all she needed to get the tears out of her system, fight them back to the depths of whence they came. No crying was allowed. It might take the spot light off... her...
One look in the mirror and she new that her face looked ugly with the smudges of a big night and guilt. That would have to be fixed, clean dress, nice smell, make up... fix this mess she made. Dog starts barking- FUCK FUCK FUCK too late, no phone call... no cigarette.

Family equalling alienation. An old soul not realising just how badly his words are hurting her, as she tries with all her best effort to remain sweet and like the image her name always gave her. Jobless but not pointless! Selfless and trying hard to be behaved, civil, social.
"You owe it to your parents... Getting yourself a respectable career with a job that they can be proud of. When will you study? What will you do?" and once again she pulled out that old dusty black wool she thought she may never adorn again, and felt disgust as she pulled her arms through the sleeves.
She is once again, the fuck up. Once again, that one kid that never quite fit the bill or made the grade... Trying to be interested but so aware of the time. Tick tick tick tick. Soon he would be sleeping sweet dreams, soon she would have lost her chance.

AND THEY STAND! After what seemed like an eternity, they went on their way. The guilty feeling of wanting them to leave was being crushed in her gut by the excitement of that phone call and cigarette. Ring. ring. ring. Ring. ring. ring. Nothing. No answer. ANGRY ANGRY ANGRY ANGRY. She needed that fucking phone call. She needed to hear his sweet voice. She was hurting. She wanted to show him her day, and help reason with him the challenges they faced.

And now, she sits, she contemplates what it means to have someone so close to her-- that the very simple fact that he is peacefully asleep and calm and neutrally happy could have the effect she is feeling now. A mix of the pain that she knows her problems that tower over her will not be shifted, that she faces it alone, that she needs to keep trying, that she needs to be held but with no one to hold her, that she needs to feel and know love in this moment of a guilty conscience and total rejection.

... And all with the bad taste of knowing in her heart that none of this is his fault. That none of this is accountable by him, and that she simply ran out of time, as he ran out of time. Time, that was supposed to be on her side, when at this exact moment in that time- nothing is on her side. THIS is how i FEEL. Not concrete, not cement; so don't let it make you feel heavy. Just know that when I have no other way to get out of the rip-tide, I have to immortalize into the ether of the net. All I wanted, all I needed was to just hear that liquid heaven wash over me one last time... for someone to just listen to what i had to say without being disappointed or disinterested like the rest of this family...

im sorry i didnt catch you in time... and now were both falling through the holes together.

In Freedom and Chains

The times they are a changing... I wake up every day, feeling the pull and tug of life trying to shift the heavy weights on my shoulders. The one thing that I thought was always against me has turned out to be my friend; thankyou time for showing me the healing power of the seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks and months that have gone into patching up the fabric and restitching the old, worn edges of my heart.

My heart. I never really understood how it worked or what it meant until I saw his face. I didn't believe that he had any of the answers to my problems in life, but a humble person can admit that they were wrong. How wrong I really was about this man; who stood from the very beginning with arms open and the intent to nourish the joy back into my life... He said he was a man of his word and I instinctively laughed at that, but once again time has shown me how wrong I can be.

I can trust again, love again, laugh and breathe easily again. The horrors that walked these empty halls have no power over the choices I make anymore. I have someone I can rely on, whose version of love is more than mere words. We will move the sky together and shake the very foundations of this planet; not just sit around getting high pretending that we even give enough of a shit to try. It's not a lie, it's not a dependancy... It's perfection, and it's not relying on drugs to keep it alive.

Thankyou God and Void alike for both showing me the true potential of myself, thankyou for that glorious split second of giving up on love; because it was during that moment where I wasn't even looking for it that I found it in him, and over such a great distance and from such a dark place we have planted the seeds of companionship within our hearts and allowed this great, passionate flame to burst them open and watch them grow. As we will watch our lives grow, entwining our fates and bodies as one.
I am not afraid of what it means to let this person into my heart and life, I am not afraid of what gripped me for so long... David has slain the Goliath in my life... And there's no looking back now.

No looking back on that crooked, cold house with those crooked, cold people. A certain vulgar, derelict potency to every character who walked in and out, in and out, day after day. An embarrassment, a chore, a boring fascade of walking, talking shit houses. All speaking of freedom whilst their hands were cast in chains. All being commanded and paraded around by a fantasy creature of lion and bird with a taste for expensive poverty and false intentions...
Never again will I walk within that life, nor give that life a chance. I have finally found what I have been waiting for: To love, and to be loved in return; as all that I am, unconditionally and without the want to change or be changed... I no longer live within that prison.

Serenity

Things... It's all been reduced down to things. Forgotten things, old things, new things... Things get pushed away, brought back from the dead then pushed away again. Two men, two hearts, too clever but still so stupid. And now, they're like everything else in my life... They're just things; taking up space in my head. Torturing me, eating away at me because they are so much alike but so different. We walked down different paths together and breathed in different air but they're the same, their outcome was the same. And neither of them, back when they were still men in my mind and heart knew how to love me. They said they did but all that blossomed from it was pain, despair, sadness... How could love bore such counter weight?

Any shred of hope is gone now because I know I can't have the fonder memories remain, not when these horrible things have been said and such hatred lives on in the way I see him look at me. A hate for me. A hate for the complications of life, of love. Friendship wasn't enough. Does he not see what I see? Does he truly believe that it's him who has been wronged? How can that be the truth when all I ever wanted was to be his close friend, he didn't do anything wrong but neither did I; I told the truth, I held back nothing and my only regret is that I slipped and believed that it was enough. Nothing is ever enough for some people.

Good feelings used against a person until they become bad feelings. I wish I was that stupid or this would hurt alot less. Shaking at my work, looking over at him, ignoring me, and wondering where it all went wrong. What I would give to have the opportunity to ask what I did wrong. I wish I knew. Liberation obviously comes with the highest cost, and I'm paying that debt back by leaving all of this behind and seeking something newer somewhere else in life.

I don't care, I'm still free... You can't take the sky from me.

Abduct the month

One month down, yet I see so many more to go. It's this never ending cycle of the water washing up on the shore, to be sucked out by the tide and the pull of the moon. I yearn, to be touched once more by the cool salty sea... To be whole with the ocean once again. I am just sand. Sitting and waiting, made up of thousands and thousands of individual pieces, to make one useless whole. That within me gets cooked by the baking sun, and I feel burnt but I do not fade away. I continue, tired and worn and dried out... Waiting for the ocean to envelop me once more, and feed that which lives deep within my surface. Waiting for these footprints all over me to be washed away, for me to be renewed and pumped full of new life.

One month without that which was once the only thing that drove me on. One month without my love, however much a love as he was then, I don't feel him beating within me anymore. I am dried out and worn, waiting for his ocean to return. But if the moon stops turning, how will he ever return? how will he ever come back to me? Do I want it at all anymore?

Sober, and confused. Before I was deluded, but atleast I was more sure of myself, my situation. All these hearts, all this potential, but nothing is over, nothing is completed here. So much drama, fear, pain... Still waiting, for the kings army to return. Still awaiting the justice of this land, the justice that will reward the sabotage and sacrifice of life that I have poured my heart and soul into. Sucked up and used, nothing in life to expect or demand. Powerless and defeated I feel, regardless of the future of happiness I will recieve. The future feels like the inevitable end.

Is it? I want so badly for the end. Where love and life are put to the side... To spend some time within nothingness. A third dimension for me to disapear into. I just want to be nothing again.

Mind loss

I'm drowning in my sink,
The bubbles have gone and the cold is on the brink- why me?
I'm walking down your street,
I'm tempted to call out your name but I- I bail.
Are you happy where you are?
I turn the keys and the car won't start,
It's frustrating in this world alone,
if I called you now, would you be home,
Oh I, I think I'm loosing my mind.

The blue skies are nothing and the oceans are a joke,
comparing them to the windows of your soul, which leaves me choking,
I am struggling to find the right words to express my simple mind,
So if you could excuse me, I need to think on them a while.
Oh I, I think I'm loosing my mind.

Man is a giddy thing

Hello there, the angel from my nightmare,
A shadow in the background of the morgue.
The unsuspecting victim, of darkness in the valley,
We can live like Jack and Sally if we want...
Where you can always find me,
We'll have Halloween on Christmas,

And in the night we'll wish this never ends...
Wish this never ends... Don't waste your time I mean you're already the voice inside my head.

Where are you?
What are you doing?
Can you hear me?

I'm being stuck inbetween the parts of me I hate, and the parts that I love... Everything is spinning out of control, and yet I'm aware of how still I must be. Sitting here in contempt. Sitting here, chewing on my tongue... I wish I could taste blood.
I waited... And I still wait. Tomorrow I'll be waiting. Intermission of tears and back to the monotone silence. Haunting artists ring through my mind, cherry blossom cheeks and blood shot eyes. I despise how lonely I feel in the crowds of people, that flock past and disapear as the clock ticks. Yet I remain, with all of this pain and no more boxes to put it in.

I want you. need you, love you... You gotta call me soon, I'm struggling to breathe in this room. Oh Man is a giddy thing.

Corpse like contemplation

I seem to have let go of what ever it was that I was so desperately holding onto... That thing that was supposed to make all of this mean something, mean anything... Maybe it was this, tiny pathetic point of reason, of justification that allowed the rest of myself to wither away into nothing- until finally when I pried my sweaty little fingers open to reexamine exactly what that was- I realized that it was just air, just open emptiness instead of solid fact and form... It was nothing that i held onto, and thus I had become such.

It was merely addiction that held me in sway, and I'm sure it still does; what it replaces in my life I'm not exactly sure though I'm aware it exists and I'm aware that it continues to hold something for me. I don't know why it needs to be. I don't know why I continuously seem to follow any kind of rhyme or reason at all, when all sense of integrity, honesty, selfless existence has completely eradicated itself from my life within who I am and how I fitted into the network of important people or valued anyone or anything but myself.

I claimed I could love, I claimed I found love but I am thinking that too is a lie, when I finally pause for a moment of breath to discover that I've not been home in over a month, I've completely missed my best friends birthday, allowed the only female friend I've managed to keep in continuum for two years completely in the dark to my safety or whereabouts and my own boyfriend seems as far away in mind and in respect as my mind can dream...

Where did my sense of morality go? Can I actually feel any truth at all?
When I find this figment of importance, I shall let you all know... Until then I guess you should go about your business knowing that at least I'm aware of the empty corpse of a human I have become, and allow me to rot silently in peace without it effecting any of you; because I'm afraid that if I allow any importance to fall on anything or anyone I'll relentlessly self sabotage until it is turned into something I hate more than myself... And if I hate anything more than myself I might just be able to continue to lie that I'm not as bad as that which I despise thus giving me excuse to continue living like I do free of guilt from some self imposed delusion of an acceptable existence.

Skinnegeist lost, faith falls

things seems to crumble and fall away in my hands these days... When did everything I know and love begin to hurt so much? When did the laughter fall away into streams of acidic tears that slowly erode my skin to ash as they drip down a face of steel- to the true layers underneath?
When did one have to delve so far to truly see what exists within my soul?

Do I have one of these anymore? A spirit that flows and beats with my heart? Or has the rope that tied me to this world finally worn free; for my inner self to walk away from the physical realm knowing that these legs can't carry me to god anymore?
Where is God these days anyway? Can he see this poison spread through me and over me?
Acid wasted. Money gone.
A smile turns to shitty poetry in a desperate moment, where cigarettes and desperate actions are all that remain?

Fetish website profiles, bad code names and a terrible lax in the effort required to conceal what a simple 19 year old girl with a curious mind could uncover?
If you are going to lie, lie well; and make sure your web doesnt stick to you first...

Like the great black widow spider- I have had my way with this mess... Now I will lay my eggs within its bowels and let them slowly eat their way out to beautiful freedom. There is no such thing as control in this world, and some are about to see just the kind of anarchy a young innocence can truly bear. Wait until the sirens call, sing all you want- I will not hear what you have to say.

A boy once stayed up all night and met a girl for breakfast... She stayed a while and ate some biscuits as he played with his chemistry set... She was silly to think that he could see the Great One, for it was just the light shining in the corner...
Now shes a peasant. Not a harlot, not a whore. Now she's the old crone, with a witches finger at the door. Smiling and crying, after laughing a little while, because she played a bargain poorly and she's paying with another's life. whilst he spread his lies like a serpent in the wake; she looked up- and saw the hope of the newer days.
I will return, free of Fear, and full of the blessing of purpose. My heart lies in a cavernous shell that haunts the living dead.

You can not lie to God. You cannot escape Judgement.

Can you see what I see?

"Can you see what I see?

No I don’t think you can

I see images of nothing

and I attempt to make that

nothingness mean something

As hard as I try there is

still nothing and that nothing

is meaningless

I am somewhere else now, outside

I am surrounded by people and

the sky. I see the people and the

blueness of the sky

but still nothing has changed

everything remains the same

I am still alone"

This is myself...
This is my life, and although it may not be much, it is mine; and currently no one elses.

Why is it that this life I live is not suited to our society, that my mind is telling my soul to change? We are built on connectivity in the congregation, and in my case it seems that a difference has developed, and that society thinks, as a mass- this difference makes my existance worthless.
Must no one see light as I see light? Beauty in what I see as beautiful? Must everyone be connected only to that which says 'be this way because you are told it is what you should be'-- rather than to connect with the powerful but fluid natural instinct within connection in it's entirity, which appears to me as a much simpler and far more enjoyable art than anything this precise yet innacurate heirarchy of powerful opinions demands from me as a part of their system...

To touch... It seems something is important, and very sacred within this act. To simply be in a silent moment of frozen thought and time, where our most powerful instinct is initiated through a fingertip to anothers fingertip... Yet noone will express it's joys, or truly delve into what makes it so perfect in it's simplicity, without having this confusing, challenging and timewasting cavalry of games our mind initiates due to our insecurities and negative influence...
It is not interaction that I crave, solitairy is a joy for me; I can and usually prefer to work on things in my own time, in my own way... It is in how another persons skin feels, electrifying my every nerve as it becomes a force with my own. Everything is vibration, is energy, and it is during this exercise that I know who I am most, why I am here... Why we are all here.

I am not speaking of sex, though it holds a realm of worth all in it's own. It too has been cheapened by the very nature of this world that I am so forcefully trying to change, which in turn is having more success of changing me; more so, creating a stronger insecurity about this life of mine and it's worth in the long run, if this is all I have to face in the future. Avoiding this truth in life is difficult, and so because of this, because of my search to find appreciation for that which I appreciate most in others... I look in the eyes of this strange world as someone who is easy, someone whose dating history looks worse than chernobyls nuclear contamination. People see my behaviour as such, toxic, bad for the soul... When it is my soul that drives me in this continuously unsatisfying search.

It is in the complete opposite of this, I am not easy. And that is my problem. That I am not the same, and are finding it fruitless and unfulfilling in pretending that I am, or trying to be... I seem to be alot more difficult than people first believe. And in my good looks and sociable nature, people get the wrong idea about intent, and like a seed that gets no water, like a fire that is fed no wood- it dies before it can truly benefit anyone or anything.

... The fact that I appear to be lacking in the successes that others cling too for validation; is something that to me, when alone, is indifferent. I have dreams and aspirations, I am human afterall... but by no account are they the drive in which I continue to exist... And it would stay that way too- if I was not so cruely reminded of this state as a failure by the very people I seek connection with. The traditionalist view. The perfect match, the one, the partner... It is no longer decerned by what resides in instinctual evidence, but the amount of things a person is currently undertaking, and triumphing over, their assets, what they can bring to the table; a burden or inconvenience? Or a self containing, sufficient unit that puts back into the system?

Once again, if this was seen in a realm that I could understand, it wouldn't bother me either. I am forced to question where I currently sit, because the heart that I yearn to disect will not let me in because of this very judgement that appears to be evident in the rest of the world. Like I said before- that people see my intent and misunderstand it, but refuse to allow the heavily reinforced walls around them down for long enough for me even to show or explain what the reason behind the nature is...

People reject what they don't understand, and I am so heavily misunderstood. It denies me, because it does not see past the present yet temporary circumstance that hangs so heavily over my life, and now over my heart.
No job. No car. No immediate routine that supposedly gives me purpose. To dream big in a time whilst acheiving little is simply not enough. A lack in attention to detail, for I acheive much within myself without having these other complications at present... But people only see what they can understand and process, and apparently my heart is incredibly hard to swallow.
This is what I am currently doing with my nine to five hours... but it doesn't necessarily decern who I am as truth or fiction.

As a fiction: I know who I am.
As a truth: I know who I don't want to be.

I dream of a day where everyone speaks their mind before their mind has had the chance to disconnect from what they had originally felt at first glance, to generate the thought in the first place... And cries for a time where things were less complicated due to this fact... Without chaos there is no appreciation of the peaceful times, and what is more chaotic than impulsiveness to this version of mankind? I yearn for the revelation of my generation.. The heart is like a fire... Feed it nothing, and it will not burn.

Life flows through the rebirth, and without stimulating heat- we do not grow. so rise above the corpses my fickle friend and plant your seed in the fernace of your heart...

Time, is present. A constantly moving construct of the universe, that takes our life force from us no matter what situation we live in. Time is precious, and although it is to me right now one of the most dependable structures I can count on, it is also the most temporary and unknown... So why do we waste such precious life on the civil tongued, everyday banter, this back and forth of mentally generated, carefully constructed insanity of simultaenious enjoyment and dismay? In the same way that a smoker believes a cigarette will help them somehow, make them feel better- people feel this routine is necessary in order to have a happy fulfilling relationship... When if you simply looked for the answers to the lower left, instead of in the mushy grey sponge that sits in the hollow shell above- things could be so much sweeter?

My point is this: Play the game of the 'inbetween time' with boys and girls or be doomed to lonliness forever?

I'd rather be a spinster for the rest of my life and know that my intentions and my tongue always ran parallel; and that because of this I know where I stand in my life with all things. To open to someone in honesty, and to hurt someone in the same truth at a different time is a price I pay, and a guilt I carry... To me it is a necessary sacrifice in order to find the only thing I know to be infinite in this realm of existance, the only force to exist in this life and the next... When something departs and continues the search, there was not oneness to begin with. This should not be looked on in anger or despair, but the simple truth of the fact. It takes two fingertips to touch and connect just as it takes two hearts, open to the same line of communication. It seems however, that most frequencies I've encountered have not been in a language I could understand.

To try and create love with the implemented calculation of the mind is a false and cruel intention; because love is something that cannot be calculated. I have spent a long time coming to this inevitable conclusion, and for that I apologize to the world, and to the people who have seen this pain as a mountain to overcome... Like I said, my only intention was to find love, not create misery.
The reason my past attempts have failed, was due to my own insecurities that drove me past what I instinctively knew at the very beginning of every interaction, and I have been a slave to this yearning, this search for a love as great as God to the point where I went against this instant feeling, to try as others do try, to play the game that I cannot win.

Oh yes, we're all innocent at heart, but the blight on mankind is that we think with our brains too much. Calculation, cuts off and pulls away at emotion... Trust your instincts...

...To connect you must trust you instincts, to have faith that those instincts are right...

To feel... And to be upfront and honest about it. To embrace the overwhelming, the giddy, the butterflies that hug and kiss your stomach. The moment finally embraces you, a timeslowing, altering millisecond that seems like an eternity, like the silence you feel in the deep breath before the plunge- what you feel is at your most raw energetic sense, free from all the constraints your mind has already begun to put in place as a defensive mechanism to steer from possible pain... It is no more natural than laughing instinctively when someone tells a funny joke, or smiling at someone who smiles at you... You don't wait three days, then ask them out for a casual coffee or afterwork drinks and then express your appreciation of that persons wit...

Life is instantanious! Life is instinctive.

This is the core of what makes me still consider myself human, yet ironically it is the huge pink elephant in the room of the world, and everyone is aware of it. Everyone is afraid of it... The most important thing you could possibly learn from this moment of indirect communication...
An educated decision is just that... Calculated, overthought, overworked, clinical, sterile, analytical... dead.

We lose too much of what we really are in working something as complex and unfathomable as love in our brains... To analyse until we find a way to make it what we want it to be... I have fallen prey to this, to over analyse, to deny the truth that lies under the superficial layers of our own distortion on reality, thoughts driven by what we think we want as truth, not truth in itself, because it conflicts with what our head wants; not what our heart says.
To some the heart can say it, and the mind refuses to hear, because it disbelieves in the truth of emotion. It sees unconventional irrationality, a giant spanner that if thrown into the works- could destroy everything that they believe in their minds is worth value. This insane drive to control all that we are as a logical reasoning, that such a foreign feeling is so alien that the natural response is rejection... A purpose is a purpose, and if it is yours truly, you will achieve this in life... To assume that all you think your life is amounting to could be risked on the simple exploration of a feeling is a tragedy...

I am an animal. Animals are instinctual, it is in our nature to go by what we feel, and our growing arrogance as a race has us recognising untrue emotions- thoughts rather than feelings, Ideals rather than opportunities.. We are not robots, yet we behave as such.

And I won't be ashamed of the honesty that I provide my existance by now living in my heart, which is a reality so many people run from. I am not every other woman or man that's given you reason to distrust what is still good and pure on this Earth- so why is it that when I feel this feeling, this purity amongst such a dull and uneventful existance, do the people in which I attempt this exercise project the pains delivered unto them by others, onto me? To run in fear and blame and doubt, rather than to simply refer and exist within what was felt the first time my fingers ran across your bare and naked flesh.

To bare your all. To stand comfortably naked, unafraid of vulnerability. The human race needs to stop looking at everyone in distrust, and start reopening to the unknown. Every new encounter we experience is unknown, and it takes a certain trust in this driving energy within us to reopen after pain. People need to stop being afraid of pain, it is an incredibly important part of life...

I used to judge new experiences on past ones, taking the experience of life and holding onto the negative, focussing and projecting the fear of failure onto others. I used to believe that the heartache I have felt from others was a just reason to distrust first, for them to prove their worth over time.
But you are different, as I am different. I am not the same as who ever she was that made you think twice before the wonderous embrace, just as you, whoever you are- will be unlike those that have taken all my heart has offered, and left it barron and raw due to selfish intent and dishonest communication. To exist accepting connection without intention, without affection. To fuck but not to feel.

So why do people do it? Cut themselves off from the possibilities of the new, due to the insecurities that the calculative brain involuntarily set in place from the experiences the past has left them with? Habit. As muscle has memory, so it would seem, does our behaviour. Our brains look at situations that appear to cause us grief or pain in life and associate that with negative, with the bad. So the next time a situation presents itself where the brain can calculate the possibility of a similar outcome- it will discourage, and deflect rather than reopen. It is in these behavioural disorders that we fail to understand that everything is a cycle, pain is a necessity and we will be exposed to it in ways more complex than we understand at this present time in this existance. It was not the journey you tried to walk along that was the cause of the pain, it was the company of whom you walked with.

Thus bringing me to the next step our brains seem to take; the influence of the outside stimulus that 'helps' us discover what we percieve in this state to be 'the one we're looking for'... And I apparently, despite my willingness, are not appropriate for that selection criteria, because I don't have enough things to busy myself with to distract and detatch from the fact that this materialistic although whilst intellectually stimulating existance will do nothing to find true, pure, bliss in love. For what could possibly be negative when encountering love?

The purest of positive energy. That which drives this universe, the only capability of conquering over all other emotive stimulus. It gives a will to live, yet we are helpless against it. To love, is to be with God; for God is pure energy, God is the purest of love. And that which exists in the divine white light of holy ascention is free of all negative stimulus, is free from the heavy darkening weight of the realms of destruction... Free from the tainted, imperfect world that man has brought upon himself...

So why does it seem that I am the only one willing to at this point in life look for that contentment in who I am and what I live for? Why is it that by this purpose that I have defined myself as an existing force in the universe- I am already rejected and denied by those whose hands I wish to touch, simply because of a predisposition in others than I am completely powerless to alter in anyway?

People don't understand- they see constriction and control where I see release and freedom... I am a soul looking for another in whose company I can enjoy and delight in that simple act of touch, of expressing the strongest impulsive emotion I know, yet have never truly known in the grand scheme of things.

To be allowed to express affection as it comes naturally, without having to wonder about the timing, the place, how long I've known them, to be forced to hold back for a moment in time to contemplate the fear within that comes with every possible action that could result in rejection... To allow the heart to move into the head- to compliment, to jest, to communicate from a means higher than simple communication. To transcend the barrier of seperate existances and join to form a single, powerful, collective unit of electric connectivity between every atom of what keeps me bound to this physical being.

To know what it truly feels like; to have the fingers of my spiritual essence entwine with that of another humans. To connect in a realm that is so fucking non existant from this one.
Finding this, with another that has the same intent, and equality and a power at once- the 'perfect one for me', as i dont doubt there are many that are 'the compatible enough one'... I refuse to allow myself to be involved with someone I know, is only partly this, or suitable enough for a happy existance... I do not want half of a relationship, half a connection, or a one sided connection resulting in a new way for me to rediscover that which I already know- how incredibly unique and rare a thought wave like this within me truly is...

I am resiliant and strong willed, I know it is within my grasp, this unbelievable euphoric existance. I have felt it my whole life, and know the divinity in this search. To form into the lotus, one must first grow upward through the muddy swamp, to arise and overcome the stresses and challenges that present themselves in the present to gain a grace and completeness in the future...
To arise, a budding flower, and to break through the water. To be graced with the infinity and magnetism of the Suns energy, warmth and light... And finally, after so much trial and tribulation, finally bloom into the true beautiful existance that I have awaited my whole life... It is my destiny, to one day bask within that light, that love.

I'm tired of being too afraid of saying what I feel. I have tried the controlling calculation of what my brain tells me will help me succeed with this purpose... I liked it better when I was being true to myself, even when I was still presented with failure in the past, at least I knew that it simply was not for me, not with them, not at that moment of time.

New age, new day, new chapter of life. A renewed faith in the mantra I have been faltering with my whole life, and I'll not allow myself to fall into any false ideals or existances with anyone until I know for sure in my heart of hearts- that there hands on my skin is like the wood for that fire, and from that heat the true potential of that power in connectivety will burst open the seed of my soul, and I will grow into that which I was put here to grow into...

Complete.

A forgotten story through the memory of smoke and haze.

A piece of writing I once started yet never decided to post, approximately a year old and from a very innocent time, the few naive steps I took in the weeks leading up to the fall of all falls, the beginning of the very near ending of my life as I knew it... This reminds me of the days when all that I became a slave too was still my friend, infact this retells the first puff, the first kiss, fuck, lusted thought and action. This was my one night stand with Methamphetamine, that soon thereafter turned into a very unhealthy and abusive relationship. Whilst this story speaks of the drug in a positive light, I urge you from the other side of that pipe to consider this infatuation as Satan himself. The purest of evil, the strongest temptation... To claim you, the devil will not adorn his true terrifying self; but will appear to you as the sexiest, most perfected slice of chocolate cheesecake you have ever laid eyes upon. He will come to you, pretending to be a Godly Angel with words of ambition and purpose, to bind you to a life with no purpose at all... Take it from me when I say, there is nothing positive or justified in Methamphetamine. It destroys human beings from the soul outward... By the time the addiction is visible on that poor victims face it's already too late- because by that point their very essence will be so badly corroded away that they will see everything beautiful and sacred in the world as a horrible curse on their life, the love they will feel for the only thing that can make them happy anymore will slowly but surely destroy their loves and passions for everything that ever once defined them as an individual. We need not fear the zombie apocalypse... For there is a vaste horde of living dead, walking down every alley way, living in every dodgey little derelict house, standing on every dirty street corner... One tract mind, no moral groundings or emotions to create rhyme or reason... To these people there is one thing and one thing only- Methamphetamine... And they will turn on those that love them, they will prey on the gullable and the weak. They will eat you alive if it will help them get high--- Please, if you read this and you have considered trying this drug, walk away... I was lucky to escape it's prison after only six months... Others are not so fortunate or resilient to the want for something so powerfully useless. I am blessed to have a family that stood through me trying to tear apart the relationship I had with them, and still pulled through when I needed them more than ever... And It is only now, even after such a small time of being so blind: that I have finally been able to admit to myself the struggle I faced and still face today with my addiction to Methamphetamine... That even for me: From the very first puff, I had a problem. "She was mad at him. It was not something she liked, not something she planned acheiving at these things; but she was a girl on a mission. Like the way most of these stories pan out, it all boils down to chance and she knew that better than anyone. A lost cause and an ugly investment. It was never going to go down well; but she'd taken worse before... Oh so she thought to herself that night, in a sea of both strangers and old faces. A day of many days, and a thought unlike many thoughts... She sat in the house surrounded by few of her oldest friends and told herself that this was just a small time, once off venture. Just a small taste, just a little lie to herself. What she didn't realise at this point, was that all eyes were on her. All watched from their judgementless seats, but they all watched... The flame to the glowing glass, that tiny puff of smoke rising like a blooming flower... And she breathed in... As much as she could, exhaled and well; went back for more. What kind of taste is this? What effect is this? The lack of real rush or va-voom took her by suprise... She didnt expect it to be calming. Plans for a quiet night turned into one of partying; such an old story... So snapping back to her reality, this chatty, insecure girl with not even a heart to break, walks through the door of a strangers house, and lets herself loose on the population of the party... After spending much time in the busy corridor of the main room, she saw a face that she had seen before, but could not put a name to it... He was tall, with blonde hair; long dreads, for what was left of them. The rest had been shaved off in a messy fashion. She smiled to herself as she examined the boy; and the smile grew. She liked what she saw, something about his face that caught her. He opened his mouth to speak, and that which she knew all to well flowed from his cherry like lips. She hesitated when her friend told her to show the boy her tattoo, he was an artist afterall... She pulled her shirt up and exposed the birds on her back. And felt daring. They stepped outside for some fresh air. A beautiful wash of pink and green lights stained the darkness in the contrast of the glowing fire that housed a circle of odds and ends, huddled together for security, for warmth. She was buzzing, and didn't need warmth at all. In fact, she was having a good time. Suprise. As she rolled herself smoke after smoke she finally asked the boy his name. It was strong, sensibly suited, he looked like a Dom. After speaking some more; he parted, and her friends immediately went in for the kill... 'You should hook in with him tonight' she said, all starry eyed. She didnt realise that she had been so obvious with her staring, but the game was up. Her friends now knew that she thought he was cute, and devulged to her that he was available, and very much her type. She frowned at first, because this was not her intention. Infact, she didn't even know if she would ask for his number... A moment in a room; a dexie and some familiar faces... Got any gum? She asked, after realising that she had a growing paranoia that she would bite down so hard she might shatter her teeth. He smiled at her, and she followed him outside. It was at first, confusing for the poor girl. Sitting outside by the fire, constantly staring at the door, wondering when she'd see that face again. Had he left? She decided that sitting down and being antisocial wasn't going to get her where she wanted. She went back inside, walked through the maze of drunken stupor, and came to a room. A big smiling boy, a much older friend than most, was waiting for her there. 'I've got a pip with your name on it' he exalted, passing her the glass contraption. She did not hesitate this time, and did not care for the other four or five people in the room... She did not care, until he walked into the room. It was then, in that moment, where she made her first move. She wriggled over to the middle of the heavily deformed bed, looking more like some obscure lounge than a place for sleeping. A few of the wooden supports of the frame had fractured in the middle, giving it a somewhat sunken look; that is, you may never get out of the giant chasm in the middle of the bed alive, if you were to fall in. She propped herself up, against the back of the frame, and allowed him to sit beside her. After some idle chat, she asked for his number. Her breath held silently for a moment, until he agreed that this was a good idea. She smiled. Her first message to him, it must be witty and intelligent... She had however just enduced a big beautiful cloud of pep; and didn't really understand at that point the idea of wit. So instead she wrote down the Antsypants song that had been stuck in her head for the better part of two weeks straight... ' 'I am a vampire and I've lost my fangs again'... Smooth talking girly. It was cute, she thought, here they were, these two delicious strangers, texting eachother when they were literally almost too close to not be touching... She suddenly became aware that they were, infact, touching; knees pressed together in the huddled puddle of people on the bed. It felt nice. There was something cute and innocent about that moment, so full of excitement and happiness, a mixture of the drug and the situation. The following hours from early morning to dusk were spent as a group of people, the last survivors, sitting outside around the fire. Smoke after smoke was spent in these hours simply talking to new found strangers, and turning them into possible friends. The stakes were high, she knew that whatever came of the evening would help her gain a new sense of self in the world; but perhaps that feeling was the drug too... Perhaps it was her own mind, playing its little overwhelming tricks again. She didn't know what was really happening, so she played it as cool as she could. A treck to the shops, they all picked up and moved off, the idea of an afternoon barbeque looked to be the reckoning of everyone's stomachs... As she walked with the masses, another girl who she had known well but not well enough, approached her from the back of the pack. 'So you met my friend last night... What did you think of him?' She asked. Was this a probing conversation? Had he asked her to find this information out? She didn't know, but answered as best she could: 'He seems like a really nice guy, I'll definately call him; a date or coffee would be nice' she replied, as cliche'd and boring as she sounded, it was the truth. She indulged with the girl, told her that he had expressed his interests... Was this too good to be true? The barbeque was a success, everyone was happy. After the last of the drinks had been drunk, the girl was asked by a few if she would join them back at there place for more drinks and movies... He would be there she knew, and saw it as an open invitation to get to know him better. She accepted. It was a joyful car ride back to the lovely fremantle home, and she was blown away by how similar it looked to her dream house. A small, quaint but beautiful slice of heaven close to the cultural goldmine of Perth. Beautiful, lucious fremantle. It made her heart sing. The two sat side by side infront of the television, interchanging between cigarette breaks and straight vodka and ice. She had never drunk vodka straight and enjoyed it, but there was something smooth and warm about it, contrasted heavily with the cool and slick of the ice. Sitting outside for hours, they spoke of many things... Mostly of art. Where had this boy come from? His ideas and passions were almost too good to be true, and she revelled in the idea that one day this fine specimen of the human race might ask her out. Overwhelming enjoyment was all she could fathom in those moments, in the quiet cold of night. Back inside, they continued to sit side by side. A hand, a few fingertips brushed against hers. Perfection. She tried to resist the temptation, but could not. Their fingers slipped through and folded over eachother. They were holding hands... A true physical connection had been given. An opportunity. Perhaps it really was just as simple as two people holding hands, she was sure that she was overreacting in what she felt, but everything always seems to be in the extreme for her. And it had been such a long time since she had felt such a positive, happy vibe from someone else, someone who appeared so similar in passion and enjoyment of life... That moment, of pure enjoyable innocence, is where she wishes she could have preserved the progress. For now, things are in a much more terrible light. A loss of control, full reckless abandon left her high n dry, in the same room but a million miles away mentally. She was a fool, blinded by a future she was so desperate to acheive and experience that she tried to fast track the slow, progressive development of what was going on in reality to where she saw it all in the future. No patience, total disregard for 'the rules'... She wasn't playing the game anymore, she was rewriting the game to suit her needs better... Which would have been fine if her needs corrolated at all with what was actually fathomable. To 'shoot herself in the foot.' She didn't know what that meant, until now. She had a good thing going, with a great guy... And what romance and magic she inspired in someone else that had inspired so much in her has completely fizzled into a wash of miscalculated mistakes and a waste of opportunity. Instead of saving her time, she now looks into the future realising that things are going to take so much longer to get too, if there is any shred of hope that she'll get there at all. What is precious in life, is enjoying the little moments. Appreciate the time you're in, because it's always greener in the future and the past; but really these are just simple constructs that don't exist. There is only the now. The now is whats important, and she needed to learn how to appreciate the now for nothing other than what it was... And in that was her biggest mistake. We often learn the most when we loose something we know is valuable to us... I was misfortunate enough to loose what I had before I had really even spent enough time trying to know what I had even was, let alone whether it was something I could act upon. Life deals heavy blows, but we always come back stronger. Take advantage of daily possibilities, keep your head screwed down tight... The last thing you wanna do is totally fuck something up because you let it get way too loose..." An interesting beginning to an interesting year... 2011 is definately making up for it :) Hope you liked it, and got the message.

My beloved friend

Swiftly falling through my thoughts, I look at myself projected onto my ceiling, looking down at me, on me...
Like some American Beauty dream.
Eyes constantly welled from the pain of my defeat- I scream inside, but my outside remains cold and numb, a cannabinoid haze i cannot escape from.
Fear for a fuck,
As I scape together my last few bucks for a packet of cheap cigarettes that taste like no regrets, nothing in life is relative with always reforming medicines for different things.

The last half turned up short, a movement we must abort, for the hearts that have been lost that were not repaid the cost of therapy, that they would need after trying to apply their cunted techniques that left them cut open,
Eyes blind to careless lies that they weren't owing,
But they were working so quick and so fast that nothing they did would stick or last.
To become unstuck, removed or reprimanded was all from the drugs that they commanded from the slums of this city...
But I don't pity what you don't pity.

So let us pay our last respects to those stupid kids in their stupid dress that lost everything by trying to prove they could fuck the system and keep enternal youth.
Hear the words and seek the truth.
Allow the proof to put them on the stand and demand their rights that they sacrificed the second they let the voices win, to set in suffering for the rest of their lives, rip their chances of children, husbands and wives...

The bleaker future is on the rise through a new generation, but it's okay because we're not worth the saving.
Freedoms sacrificed through political avarice,
fuck this life and your life in strife when any old power hungry cop can approach me and say: 'Stop right there, nice bag- whatchya got in there? See now kiddy I'm gonna take a look and write you up a ticket from my little fuck-off book, take your moeny and your good times cause your sacrifice says that this weed is mine...'

So take a bigger look at this picture and realise the fight that we took on has already been won by our enemies,
That circle us like starving wolves and drop us to our knees.
Like flies to the swatter, we have been caged and suck in a media controlled fodder, where what we need and what we want are just a few seconds away with 12 months interest, no more to repay!
- But you do pay, with added interest as the debt begins to slowly infest your minimum wage lifestyle,
Feeding you the ugly face of a 40 year old rapist, on the tv trying to sell me life insutance instead of saving for an educational degree...

To waste life on this shit is a fickle thing, but never forget the power you gain by questioning theser things.
They want us all to agree, these domesticated, placated zombies that continue generating power, when our viral race simply sucks away at everything that was ever sacred,
And I can't take it...

But don't worry my beloved friend we will not be suffering in the end, cause the darkest of horizons is moments away, and the fine line between life and death is as simple as you and I removing eachother's breath.

Eating out of Boxes

Eating out of boxes, and sleeping in others beds. Life seems to enshroud a mystery that I cannot detect. Nothing is substantial anymore, food has less flavour, and I left some things back in that Maylands house that I value... Like my heart for instance...
And then I think, in a moment of confusion: No.
My heart is not there, it is somewhere there in a future, somewhere else that I was looking to the future for. A potential to just be, and just be me.

Nothing works out. Everything in life is temporary... So why don't we all just charge ourselves everyday and spend our nights roaming the streets looking for as much fuck as we can; cause at the end of the day-- Those that use hearts loose, and those that ignore them win.

So fuck it. Fuck my feelings and fuck myself. It's all I have to do these days anyway, when everything in this room reminds of a time that I thought meant something. DELUDED.
Confused, and rambling. Like it makes any difference how I write these days, who on this Earth could possibly appreciate or understand anything that I write in such emotive, poetic and hopeless romantic tones... It'd be worth it if I gave a shit about worth anymore.

I have nothing and are noone.
I have lost my fangs again,
I am sad, and very lonely.
I cry and get very angry.

... And I have to retune my guitar.

Daisies over the hill

So maybe I'm not as good of a human being as I once thought. In a month I have gone from questioning everything else to questioning myself. Is it simply that I'm confused or is it that I'm just confusing everyone else?

Maybe its both. Maybe it's neither... Telling the truth, I can't really tell if I have two feet on the ground. I guess it's a frustrating feeling, when you are denied the simple right to let something grow. When I don't listen, I guess I only have myself to blame. Things like these take time, though it's hard to keep it cool when I feel like I'm surrounded by a pack of hungry dogs.

Broke
Jobless
Alone

being constantly reminded of an old life I miss for it's stability but not for it's company, being reminded of a life that once was and how different everything in this new one seems to be. As much as this ground shakes, no day is the same, everything constantly being renewed. Security had it's perks, but I find excitement here, as exhausting as it may be.

There is no motivation left in me to go and see him, or to get excited with anything that we do together. I know that if I allow myself to enjoy or believe in any of it; I will simply hear or see something within the short fucked up hours that will follow that will strip it all down, and then some more, leaving me more wounded than before.
I am being eaten alive by a boy with a very big apetite. An apetite for everything that I will offer it seems, though I am getting sick of it all. I've been over this for weeks, yet for some reason it's loosing it's shinyness real quick and the fear that grips me almost makes it too hard to move.

It seems in life, that karma has chosen this moment in my life for my moment of moments. With the lack of love and joy that I feel for anything right now I'm almost afraid that this could end me. By the end of this; I'll either be so gone beyond repair that I'll just stay a broken heap in the scrap yard of life, or I'll come out of the ashes like a new born Pheonix, rise again, and take the glory for myself.

Its all or nothing. This is the challenge of a life time, the most pain I've endured in a long time. Although it might look as if I'm simply continuously picking up the same poisonous snake thinking 'this time it wont bite me' and voila! Next thing you know I'm speeding off to the ER with a snake bite on my face. I am aware of these dangers, my joyful, loving friends...

But someone needs my help. He needs a friend now more than ever, and to abandon him to this cruel world would be the worst thing I could ever endure. So I will go through with this shit, I will continue to plough through the heavy snow, to find that sunny glowing feild of daisies that are over the hill. The bridge is a dangerous one, but he has to cross it; and I'll cross it with him, if he'll let me.

Just scraped through April, pray we'll all make it to the end of June.

Don't give up hope; don't give up smoking... Just look where you walk next time, cuz its getting wet and slippery. Cold weather is snuggle weather, I hope that makes this easier.

Monsters and Contemplation

I go through all this, before you wake up; so I can be happier, To feel safe up here with you... It's scary being on this mountain, so close to the edge. Though this beautiful view is so astonishing, I think it's naive for us to be so close to the edge... Nothing that I seem to try makes me feel any closer, any better, fitter or happier. But just seeing his face, brightens that misery.
And although I do all this, before you wake up, I don't feel happier, to be safe up here with you. Well I just don't know what to do anymore... God this fire feels wild, and it thrills me... Until we run out of what you crave most; then I seem to crawl back inside my head.

Because it's in those moments where I realise how little difference my company makes to your day. What ever can I do up here? Whatever can I say to make you come back from being up in that cloud? When change braces reality, you cry and run back inside... Yet I'm still left up here to contemplate the way in which we start our day.

Is it all just too much to face? To bear? We look out over this crashing seashore, and throw these little things off, like car parts, bottles and cutlery; or whatever I find lying around. Though I trust you, I get the feeling that when you get bored you'll simply throw me off too... So I go through all this, before you wake up, so I can feel happier, to feel safe up here with you...

Though I don't feel safe, when my feet are back on this ground, I feel it slipping and sliding under me, like I was destined to live up there forever. What if I forget how to come back down?
Have you forgotten? To breathe in the space that has been given to you? Have you forgotten what your heart sounds like beating at normal pace and rhythm?
What can I do to bring us down, to look for other little things, like sea shells and sweet nothings.

To find a simple solitairy joy in claiming innocence and ignorance to the darker things out here, those shadows that stalk our steps at night, and make us do things till morning light. Are they all good or all bad? How do we get to know those tricky elements of ourselves that only rear their ugly heads when we are stressed... With you there's no stress, only in the moments after you.

With your cryptic words and gestures, a simple fact that actions mean either nothing or something, that what I see and what is real could be so far away and apart, like my feet and my mind, one on the ground and the other in the sky... What I would give to take on that challenge with you, what I would give to throw this world upside down and refurnish the interiors, day by day growing and cultivating this garden,
Like a secret recipe for strength and colour,
Like an energy source as abundant as the sun, our own collective of warmth and life. It's an energy this, and although I see much in black and white this contains too much grey for me to pull apart. Could we be pulled apart? If what I found was unhappiness? Or would we stay and try to change the oil and bang around under the hood.
We don't know how to fix cars but I wouldn't mind trying with you.

I would try it with you.

Take my hand and take me there,
Take me anywhere but here,
Cuz there are scary things under my bed,
And a monster that lives inside my head.
He only comes out when I'm alone,
And tells me I have to stay at home...

This Girl Before You

Your eyes,
I see a smile in your eyes,
And everywhere I go,
Will your eyes, follow?

And those lips,
I wanna kiss from those lips...
And everywhere I go,
will your kisses follow?

See this girl before you?
You know she's pretty scared,
Cuz she wants to get to know you,
wants to wake up in your bed,

And loving you is scary,
Cuz she doesn't know where she'll end,
But she takes comforting in knowing,
That where ever she is going,
If she looks over her shoulder...

Her kisses and smiles are right behind her.

Tired eyes

These eyes are tired,
of welling up everytime
you prove all of them right,
and I,
dont wanna believe what they say,
but it's hard for me to breathe,
when your head is a lock,
and through this maze is the only key.

These days are like fire,
and I am a tree,
Although my seeds have opened,
I'm dying in this heat.
What I thought I could handle,
I don't want to give up,
By admitting my defeat,
Through the thought of something to love.

Why wont you lean on me?
Work through your mistakes?
Try to find the sunlight through the sleet and the rain,
Watching this is scary,
It's killing me inside,
but a promise is just a promise,
as a lie is just a lie.

You told me that the pen,
is sharper than the sword,
and although I'm not bleeding,
it's a feeling I can't ignore,
And what I would give to live,
One thousand of your smiles,
But a promise is just a promise,
As a lie is just a lie...

A promise is just a promise,
As a lie is just a lie...