mind is mine

It comes, it goes.
Sometimes I can hide it,
until it grates it's way through.
In mornings it consumes,
At night it is just savage.
It remains a wrestle,
keeping this mind mine.
All's lost, it's all right,
I'll walk till I am empty,
see through this illness,
escape to my truth,
leave the lies of reality.
Sadness and madness is forgotten,
for a moment my mind is mine.

metro-celibacy

I am practicing metro-celibacy, but others mistake it for metrosexuality, homosexuality or uncommonly a syndrome we shall term as 'Lonesome and Heartbroken', you may know it as being single.

Others mistaking your behaviour for something else is a problem when bucking trends that the general population rely on, conform to and take for granted. Rather than just going with or against the flow – I tend to grab a branch, haul myself out and just walk away. I don't expect people to understand but i don't expect them to care either. But it seems people are facinated by things they don't understand and not in a good way, more in a point, stare, shout or laugh kind of a way. Worse still they'll put notes through your door, unsettle you with prank phone calls, before creeping up on you in a dark alley and putting you out of your misery.

Great, can't wait.

wednesday is for being psychotic

I don't know how much longer it can continue without some horrific meltdown. I'm feeling like I'm on borrowed time. By 8.30am this morning I was psychotic, intent on violence, drug abuse and sexual harassment - if not assault. Instead of giving into to the temptations of my brain and this thing hanging between my legs, which constantly tries to lead me towards more suffering, I decided to go to Sainsburys on my way to work and bought a nectarine and a banana. Something tells me it's not enough to keep me away from the edge today. I'm at my desk now and if they keep me busy may be no-one will notice the maroading nature of my mental state. That it is until tonight when I can make a break for the train and go home to stabilisers of drink, drugs, television and the tossing & turning centre of excellence that is my bed. And then I'll wake up in a state and it will all begin again.

I can't remember waking up happy and feeling at one with this world,
But I can recall some contentment, waking up next to that girl.

offence caused

since when is it only a bad thing to cause offence?
Some people like to be offended - it keeps them busy aswell as breeding irony, mockery and laughter.
A world where none are caused offence would be without life, love or laughter.

wheelchair

If I was to ever see you with him,
he would wind up in a wheelchair.
I can live without you as long as I can walk,
but it would still kill me to see your grace
in stride and alongside another man on two legs;
for if it is not me, than none should have it all.
Therefore,
if I was to ever see you with him,
he would wind up in a wheelchair.

Too late now to go for help

Hazy monday morning, eyes wet with tiredness.
Nothing carries purpose, so no effort is afforded.
I can't shake this now, it's set in for the day.
Just sit in silence, rubbing that brow red raw.
All attempts to escape this woe, bring me no relief,
Nothing has changed for so long, it's too late now to go for help.

so steady on the platform

So steady on the platform, you know the trains.
Why so sure of yourself each day?
Do you think that's what people want in another?
How about uncertainty? Or not having all the answers -
Just once.
Perhaps others will see your confusion as endearing,
May be offer you some help -
And then you might not feel as lost and alone.
Yet as much as I hide my eyes
No one struggles to gaze into them.

mornings long ago

i'll jump out at the carpark entrance,
walk in the sun to the supermarket.
drop by there and pick you up breakfast,
pain au chocolate and freshly squeezed juice.
back at your desk i'll deliver in silence -
you can pay me and say thanks later,
or just break me in bits and leave me to wonder -
why it wasn't as perfect for you
as it seemed to me on those mornings long ago.

Against crap tattoos on attractive girls since 2005

Summer is here and girls get their skin out. Which is fine, i won't ever moan at the sight of taught, blemish free skin. But I would encourage all young attractive girls to buck the trend and avoid getting some hellish symbol that means nothing to them or anyone else tattood on their beautiful bodies. It's not big, clever, endearing, interesting, intriguing or even a sign of originality or individuality - it is the antithesis of all these things. But nubile, fresh, natural skin on the the other hand - well thats just perfect - why not leave it that way?

Oh, and while you are there - attractive women of the world, may be just let the hair growing from your head stay the same colour as it is when it leaves your scalp. Now that would be original and individual.

get up, go, write

I'm supposed to be working. In-between though if I'm not performing some important function of life I should be writing, perhaps at least reading or thinking of what to write about. Enough is enough, there needs to be continual effort now. Shoehorn in time for expression of my creativity. Success demands it and so these notes are being typed up. It is an effort to turn my shambolic existence into one with direction, purpose and a profitable outlet for my lingual description of my world view.

However, these train journeys in between important life functions are brief and consumer electronics are also a distraction to my creative tendencies. Particularly when the latter are malfunctioning and only offer frustration rather than their intended convenience. Yet, as these words demonstrate - I shall not let these tribulations overcome my new found initiative to utilise my talents but use them instead as subject matter.

In short, I have to get things done, distracted by life or otherwise. Despite these honorable intentions the train is stopping and Bukowski never even made it out of the bag. It's the bastards that leave the free tabloids on train seats that I blame and cost cutting far eastern manufacturers.

KWIK-SAND

Hank advises you leave it 18 days to see if it's any good, but i just wrote this, thought it was alright, besides no-one reads this anyway

KWIK-SAND
Inspiration attracts sediment
as flawless shores call it home.
All else but memory is broken
and knowledge becomes solitude.
It seems strange to be left grasping
at irrational realities,
when the abstract nature of emptiness
can happily suffice.

Take it all

So this is modern life. How do you do?
Go ahead just take whats left of me.
And I will sit here, while you do
and I don't argue anymore.
So take it all.
Take it all now, my necessities,
Yeah I am nothing without you.
So take it all, I would die for you today
And never claim I had it all,
But you know I did
Until you took it all away.