more is more.

so you're back on the bus & it's another month & even another year since you were here & the destinations have changed too. there's been a shift, not just in you but in the world and its as frightning as a fucking tsunami that you can see approaching when you've always kept so far from the sea in the past.

the church is still there & the sandle shufflers still bombard my mailbox at any opportunity but i've always followed my heart which open up a whole new set of worms & rules rules rules which you follow on instinct carrying only your safety word & cab fare home. the usual spatt breaks out at the stop opposite where a recent stabbing took place. most of them are here for the methadone but you're pretty sure the resident backlash of right minded people & personalities will take care of all the riff raff soon. not that you mind, adds a bit of colour & movement, distraction from the banal as you sit & you ponder the merits of change.

...

okay time to fantasize the muse. flow is such a feminine name for one so masculine, more like rocky.

so we're hanging together, my muse & me, when he reveals he's always dreamed of being an illiterate but some things are so hard to unlearn without an icepick & an oedipus fixation. so as i dream the possibilities the next thing i know we're well into our 3rd topic of conversation and i'm starting to get jittery because i'm not used to such high quality repartee. but anyway, the mood shifts like disappointing correspondence and the whole place darkens under the spectre of a doctor who mystery and i just know some weird shit's gunna happen soon.

don't look back look forward.

so much to say, so many thoughts but watch them dry like water in the desert, like ink in a pen as i sit here and carry on my avoidance behaviours. gotta get to social security, but hold on, what were those feelings? anyone?
at least the pen is moving, but bending? i just cant say.
ok so it's another day and have used that line before (&before, & before) but it's all just straw clutching at best. how to find the paroxysm gem? you find it in the corner, and in pain, you find it in the growing up and in the not growing up, when you're supposed to  - wot the fuck is that about?

it's about bad habits and habitually being bad and bad consequences and non sequential nonsense badly misspelled. i do hope that was at least gramatically correct because i really *liked* it. imagination can be slippery and ethereal no matter how many roman togas you want to dress him in. more like a snake in the garden of eden, there when times are tough and decisionmaking time has come - don't look back look forward.

i definitely think that i should take advantage , at least temporarily of a singular position on a larger bus. and then chris martin pipes up in his beautiful falsetto telling me everything's alright and i believe him because his voice matches my brain chemistry. even the bus gets a wide on for chris.

summin i ''found''

ok, it rolls on, the catastrophic, karmic, diabolic shit storm that is... being.

and here i am the next day which is in fact a better day in that is is a day of moving forward - a little. i am a non smoker i am a non smoker i am a non smoker. oh, go on, for old times sake...

bruised tatoos & blind psyches, lift me up like madonna, get me outta here before i blush and turn purple in the heart. in china pollution makes the rivers turn black and catch fire so i'm panic surfing in a heat  that tightens my skin in alarm and defence. the heavy weight of gravity rocks in my mind that cascade to the eternal nothingness, a sponge landing. the blank absorbent nite lets the spirals fly, but impotent like a spent firecracker i struggle to rise.

it may be my disfiguring scars that bring my charisma but i can be the deliverer of bad news and arrogant axioms - the paradigm needs to shift to me. dialling numbers on a disconnected line....

.......



........

the winter days pass, the summer days pass, most with little acknowledgement from me.

just doin it just doin it just doin it just doing it just doing it just doin it just doing it just...

i dont really know who i am or where i am going or what's up with the twich in my buttocks or why my glasses wont stay on my face, i dont even know the muffin man, well, not in any real sense anyway. i am familiar with his work tho.

punk, punk, diy & dont give a fuck. well i got the attitude down pat, & i guess you could say iv earned my membership, but with reward comes responsibility so please help me flow.
ha! was gunna cheat but...
just doing it just doin it just doin it just doin it just doin it just doing it just doing it just doing it just...

fuckenshame i cant force this shit. ok, one for my american friends...

hey, wait...

ok well, i want to feel desolate, i feel so safe here in my cave with the heater high (and so am i) but thats not doing it for me anymore. so let me look at this.. i try, i get beaten down, i go back to my cave, my cave does not have the same attraction to it cos i want to be happy. pathetically true.

solids

...and there's so much fucking moisture in the air that it forms drops not of rain but of sweat - god's sweat falls from the sky. only trouble is i'm not clever enough for intelligent design so i have no idea what is happening to me... until it's all just blind screaming, you know, the kind nobody can hear.

so it leads me to thinking, do suicides log out of their social networking sites before they do it? do they just leave a last status update then... r**k is available - so there is seemingly no need to worry....

quiet now, calm in the night, on the outside, in the dark it is clear but inside, inside me nothing is clear and i cant seem to find an explanation or even the right questions. he says he's ok. ok. he says he's only taken a non lethal dose but after telling me that he loves me but he cant go on which one do i believe? who? i get played so easily, fall into the myth that people are good, people are good for each other. but like everything, everything is problematic.

i'm here, still. now posting daily.

hey babee-s.
yes, that's right, it's ok.
well...
when i say ''ok'' i mean the roller coaster it more high than low. its just that
it feels so much more situational, you know, environmental than anything that i actually do.
sigh.
a real mystery hey?

so there is not much movement on the real life stuff, but 1) i'm here - cos daily postings attract attention & 2), well, i'm here.

so i'd better give you summing to read then, summing creative...


it's not so much the night that brings the heartache, but the black that cannot seem to be penetrated for love or money that makes you tense up in the back and in your belly. things happen ''out there'' that may not be in your control, so it is much safer to stay inside. the rain comes. and i am not so much a shut-in as a refugee.

the days aren't that much better. paralysis wrackes every shred of emotional development is still too true but i cannot keep repeating cos isn't it a journey? and don't the dishes still need to be done?

then ''im putting out fire with gasoline''

struggling but better/fear of failure fear of success/it doesn't take a lot of rocket science to analyse this little munt.

ok flow was kind last time and i need to get creative as this is about finding my voice not sticking my finger up my arse cos i like the way it feels.

yeah, well it is tomorrow already and progress has been made which i guess i must acknowledge but ouch. but then everything is pretty ouchy at the moment so why should success be any different?

so i was in the supermarket yesterday not feeling myself & certainly not feeling anyone else & i found it hard to focus my eyes or even raise then without them being inunndated with imges that repeated & repeated in a consumerist nightmare (or wet dream) and i know now why kids crack it & everyone gives in to the giving up their hard earned dollars. it was awful wen i normally dont hate shopping.

wow. and by that i mean wow.

i'm not too sure wots happened here but i feel i have to acknowledge it, but i do feel better after attaching those tags & acknowledging my feelings. they are dank & dire, but that's ok. because it has to be.

softly softly catchee monkey

ok trying to hold onto threads of the perception that it's gunna be alright. cos thats what there is, THIS is what there is so you'd better get it sista, before everyone else gets there first.

ultimately we all only have two choices, to stay or to go. all the rest is just window dressing.

it's time to do some WORK.

ok wot we need is a bit of stream of consciousness. what we really need is a big dose of flow. but wot is gunna take me there? where is the spark?

so the pills that are stashed in a high up/out of the way place are not so out of the way that i cannot access them with ease. in fact they are so tantilisingly close that it is an active thing i am doing, not touching them. s'ok. but i need to point out that the pills that can take care of bizniz are just an arm reach away. now if i was to make that arm reach i would still have choices. yes, i said choices, plural. i could take 1, calm things down a little. i could take 2, calm things down a lot. or i could neck the bottle. calm hey?

ok, so i'm not lying but i am trying. and to that end i am staying here with my codependent friend and have plugged myself into sum binaural beats. i am not stretching and reaching, only in my mind. and i think we do need to give ourselves space, and more importantly, compassion to think these things. we should allow ourselves these thoughts but we should use them to motivate us to break thru. success is the ultimate revenge huh?

it's time to hit the white noise.

...i'm writing this blog to put of some dangerous practices.

ok, lets get a bit of perspective & keep us all travelling forward. & yes i did say ''all'' in a family of the head/dId kinda way cos in a way aren't we all full of multipled? they may not differentiate as hard & fast as in the psychotic, but surely when we talk to ourselves who are you talking to? just how far do you want to take that thought really, because really, when it's all boiled down in a rendering pot we're all just munted worms of the earth trying to find a bit of shelter from the wind.

ha!

i wish it was that easy.

then.. then.. people are arseholes.

so i got sabotaged on the way to my happy place. bastard.

pretty painful, & i may write it out later, but aaahhhh!!!

& why did i let myself get sucked in?

anyway, this was not wot this blog was supposed to be. this blog is about finding my voice, finding my style, finding my place in the world. i want to kinda do stream of consciousness stuff & i want it to be gold. so here goes...

the influences of the greats now grate against my fibres and i cant seem to break free of the memories of other amazing lyrics & lines that we have already written. if nothing is original then why do i struggle? can we not see that although we are unique we just dont care?

well that was shit. here's summing i wrote on the bus today, getting closer...

i could take him
mr. right here
right now
i could setlle for less
than the best for once.
mostly i get nothing
so less is better,
yeah?

but i'd rather beat myself over the head with a crow bar.

i'm just not ready to give up the quest.

i've been reading them for years. i could keep reading for another million and still would not be done with everybody elses happy endings.

i say i have hope but do i?

in a fake it to make it scenario i'm just not that good an actor.