Well I'm not gonna force you to read my blog, but if you should happen to stumble upon it, take the time to sift through it as it may prove to be of some relevance to you. God forbid, you may actually enjoy it and you would wish to click the button which would mean you were eternally my follower. There isn't really any sort of meaning or specific task that this blog sets out to fulfil, think of it as bohemian.

Sunday, 31 January 2010

Attention friends.

Where the fuck are you?!



Ugh. Am I gonna have to give up?

Thursday, 28 January 2010

Well, this is it.

Just gonna go for it.

I know I can't regret it lol.

Tuesday, 26 January 2010

Yeah, it hurts.

But what can a guy do?



What, you want me to cry now? No, I don't think I will. Not tonight.

Monday, 25 January 2010

Plan.

No more drugs.
No more alcohol for a long, long time.
No more self-harm.
No more smoking.
No more giving up.



And lose some weight, fatty.

Saturday, 23 January 2010

I'm not sure what to think anymore.

Its almost as if you've got an opinion that morphs, or at least is not set in stone.

What am I =/

Monday, 18 January 2010

Omg.

STOP ACTING LIKE THE FUCKING VICTIMS. THIS IS YOUR MESS THAT YOU'VE SET OFF NOW DEAL WITH IT INSTEAD OF DRAGGING ME INTO YOUR SHIT. I FUCKING HATE YOU. YES, I SAID IT, I ACTUALLY HATE SOMEONE FOR THE FIRST TIME IN MY LIFE.




Thanks a fucking lot, assholes.

"Stop dreaming Henry, you're just a kid."

Fuck off.

Saturday, 16 January 2010

Time to fucking fix up already.

In three months and a day your homes will plague you,
Your paychecks will haunt you,
And your love life will own you,
This is it,
We'll expect the cost.

Spring does not exist, neither does Jesus,
To whom inquires first.
While you sit their praying hard to a God that doesn't exist,
As your head follows down,
It's in your mouth.
Forty years, into nights,
Child this will end your life.
Forty years, of your life.

A bad taste.
A terrible sense of smell.
Fool yourself,
For the books your children bleed for.

Were going to throw the burning bodies,
Down the wishing well.

During a raping,
You can't get back your pennies.
During a raping you can't hold yourself on trial.

All we are, are fitter men,
Cast us as violent.
All we know can't hold us back.
Beautiful children with wreckless hands,
Will doubt them.

Friday, 15 January 2010

You might be perching on a high pedestal but I'm laughing from down below. I'm the one with the axe to chop down your forest and now you're going to burn like the wood you thought made you so, so special.



Haha.

Sunday, 10 January 2010

Wall•E



The most beautiful film in the world :')

Saturday, 9 January 2010

I just, don't really know what to say now. Where do you draw a line between success and not having failed? Because they're different aren't they? You might not succeed, but then, its possible you haven't failed too, isn't it?

I think I need to go away and think. I mean, I'm thinking already but, its the environment that needs changing.

I want to be different. A new person. A person that doesn't exist but has always been present in my head. That person mocks me every day of my life and I want to become them. Being tormented by a figment of your imagination is indescribably frustrating. You want it to end, and you should be able to stop it, but, you can't. And you never will. So you give up and let it.

Silently fatigued.

I'm not happy with myself lately. But because I'm just a pair of eyes bearing witness behind a cage that locks from the other side, I can't do anything about it.



When I reach the astral plane I'm going to mutilate whatever controls such desire because they don't know what it does to people.

Thursday, 7 January 2010

For the record;

I hate snow.

Wednesday, 6 January 2010

And I love her.

I really, really do.





Its always cruel.

Sunday, 3 January 2010

The taste of passion.

What would you do if I kissed you?

What would you do if I held your hand and laid you down?

Would you find me overly unkind to you?

Would you call me insensitive, and say that I deserve to die?

What do I do with all these feelings tearing me up inside?

What do I do with all these wasted hours dreaming of you at night?

I'd like to call you sometime.

What would you do if you knew the truth?

What would you do if I told you the story of my life?

Would you find me overly familiar towards you?

Would you call me crude, fling me aside to the birds?

What do I do with all these feelings holding me back inside?

What do I do with all these wasted hours dreaming of you at night?

I'd like to call you sometime.

I'd like you to need me one time.

I’d like to call you sometime.

What would you do if I kissed you?

What would you do if I held your hand and laid you down?

Would you recognize it’s a need I've been fighting for so long?

Would you recognize it’s a hunger only you can fill?

What do I do with all these feelings warming me up inside?

What do I do with all these glorious hours dreaming of you at night?

I'd like to call you sometime.

I'd like you to need me one time.

I'd like to have you all the time.

I'd like to call you.

Friday, 1 January 2010

New Year's Resolution.

Record a 4-track acoustic ep.

Start saving money to pay for a Blood-Borne Pathogens training course.

Find someone.

Beat day 91.

2010.

And the vision came rolling like thunder, the sound of galloping horses, charging towards me with unrelenting haste. Oh, this will be the defining year, it shouted obscenely whilst keeping score of its time. It was short, but carried with it the force of a thousand fists, each in turn taking their chance at beating whatever sanity is left.





There will be 91 days. And it will happen. That is what scares me the most, the curtain that shades it, the cloak that hides it.

The jester has you.