Thursday, 29 September 2011

I find that I am much more peaceful inside this house when there are no men. Not that I am in any way sexist, but just so I don't have to listen to the incessant roars and squeels and giddiness of a grown man cheering on his favourite football team. Or infact, his most favourite team from the two teams playing. Nonetheless, a man always finds a part of football to get giddy and girly about. Like a woman who can't miss an episode of her favourite chick flick TV programme, a man misses a football game and he winds up in a bigger state than a woman with terrible PMS.

I am getting better at finding more useful ways to spend my time. Before, when I got home, I would hover between lying down on my bed, going to the kitchen, going to the toilet, using the internet and so forth. Now I like to infuse reading into my routine. Many times I have tried to read "e-books" on pieces of technology and it never did it for me. Only when I have a beautiful piece of literature I can hold in my hand, do I truly want to read it. I know that when I put it down, it's sitting there waiting for me and if I feel like escaping again I simply pick it up and I don't have to think about anything but letting the words do it for me. It gives me something to think about other than myself.

There is always danger lurking around the corner I find. Between my habit of lying down, manouvering to the bathroom, kitchen and so forth, I find that if I let my mind realise that it has nothing to do, even for a minute, it can destroy the entire day ahead. Some people can cope with being bored as a daily happening in life, but when I sense boredom I sense the forthcoming misery of waiting out another lifeless day. That's why I can't let myself feel as if I am bored, even for a second. Sometimes my clock curiously puts itself an hour behind and when I realise that I have gained an hour I feel a shallow sense of relief that there is one less hour to fill. My worst hours are from noon till sometimes as late as 7pm. When the clock strikes seven, something clicks and I feel relaxed at the setting of the sun and the re-emerging life in me. Daylight sucks something out of me, making me feel as though something has to be done, but I never have the answer as to what. I live an unfulfilled life of spending and looking for something to occupy. Sometimes I buy myself computer games and then I play them for up to five minutes and I feel the impending boredom strike me once more so I put down the control. I don't think a game will ever keep me hooked or make me think. Not like a book can and has done in the past. In a book I am a spy, watching events unfold and feeling far too sympathetically connected to the character. Put me in charge of somebody in a video game and I haven't an idea in hell of what to do. Video games make you think that you are in control but the ending has already been fixated.
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September's Ramble

Friday, 16 September 2011

15th Sep 23:11

I mustn't feel that things are too perfect
Blood red roses and a powerful dialect
I want to hate but act upon it
A pounding thrust of demonic excitement

Revenge is best served in years to come
Than never to befall
Be it called such, that dwindling power
From my fist as it conquers all

Pain and anguish, she screams unto me
Heals to make me feel higher than heaven
Too comatose and too heavy for passion as such
And a weep to my command may so fault my touch

I needn't answer questions "Why?"
For a person I knew had to teach
That violence needn't dignity nor plausible reason
Just an overwhelming phase of powerful feeling

Dead and gone in the depth of bitterness
A fist says more than any mouth
Takes me high as I feed off imagery as such
A petty bark at my feet on all fours with much luck

A bruised and fatty carcass, A window to a devil
Broken and untouchable, as the bruises start to swell
Unmistakably horrendous, and a hellish shade of blue
A fool of a price to pay, for the pleasure of being you
READ MORE - September's Ramble

Lost in coma and covered in cake

Wednesday, 14 September 2011

As I was laying in the bath I could sense the end. Of what, I don't know. Anything from the end of the summer to the end of the world. It was my birthday yesterday and, though thoroughly enjoyable, the framed canvas of my mind had plenty of other ideas. I can't forget about it. Every time I turn around, every time I get up, every time I sleep and even worse when I wake. I don't know which part within what little I know seems to cause the most agony. The most important question happens to be: Why now? There are unimaginable things becoming imaginable and most of the time I feel as though I want to rip off my own head. There is no other possible plausible reaction for me. I feel that I need a memory dump. It keeps taunting and mocking and deriding me and only simply because it "happened". I didn't want to write about it but I feel like it's the only thing that might keep me from insanity today. I'm not sure of what the hell is wrong, I only know it's not fucking right. I think that maybe today I have had little sleep and might be emotional, but that doesn't excuse yesterday. It was my fucking birthday, and it's all I could think about. What kind of a fucking world is this? What happened to my "don't-give-a-fuck" switch? I feel an overwhelming desire to hurt her. Though what has she truly done wrong? I remember once upon a time having visions of posting lit matches through her letterbox. I don't have much of an appetite today and it's most probably for said reason. My mum just asked who I was talking to so i'm taking it in my stride to curse my stepdad less and write more. I take it time isn't that much of a great healer after all. I am becoming increasingly frustrated and increasingly misunderstood. I took a bath today so I could think freely inside a locked room, yet I didn't expect to cry so much. I am at a loss, though. Whatever this thing is punishing me, it was bound to happen after an almost emotionally faultless summer. I wonder, does this always happen with someone's first love. I'm done dwelling. I feel mortified and shamed.
READ MORE - Lost in coma and covered in cake