Saturday, 27 August 2016

Sorry, I Was Mistaken

They all did more interesting things than me
Because nothing was ever very interesting to me
But still I knew exactly what I wanted to do
I wanted to be better than you
Remain aloof
Transcend the mundanity that has a hold of you
Now I'm wondering if it's possible to sue
Your own goddamned mind for the fucking shit it feeds you.

I saw you the other day, walking the other way
I thought about stopping you and saying "hey"
But beyond that I realised I had nothing else to say.

Saturday, 20 August 2016

The Tits I Always Creamed On

Onanism is awesome, but it brings back memories. A library I visited frequently back in 2008, banned me after one particularly vigorous Internet session in which I tried to alleviate my depression. Whenever I see Lily Allen on TV, I remember the hand on my shoulder and conflicted face looking down at me. Rest in peace opportunity. The librarian smiled at me, not out of pity but intriguingly, right after she apologetically banished me, right after I should have asked her to marry me.

Thursday, 18 August 2016

Dreaming Of Southampton

There is moss on my back and I can't seem to find anyone who will cut me some slack. I had my future all mapped out but I couldn't decide between Redbridge and St Denys train tracks. Now I'm a caricature with a stupid rucksack, hiding more pain than hair underneath my cap.

Monday, 15 August 2016

In Ebro

It had been a while since I had sucked from that old teat, laid back, relaxed, and allowed myself the treat. All I wanted from my life was a comfortable seat, and instead all I got was a ball and chain around my feet. Everyday I dragged it along this miserable street, smiling all the while at the puppets and the freaks. I made muted sounds at them but tried to never speak, so they'd never get to know me and I'd never appear weak. This way, at least, I held an air of the mystique, and life is never better when you share it with the meek. So what if I never get to know of what it meant to be unique, and the violence I wished to wage would never be so wreaked. At least I'll never let myself grow up to be antique, for my dependence on the bottle has let my liver leak. Never has my outlook been so completely bleak, it'd even been a while since I'd allowed myself the treat.

Saturday, 6 August 2016

Sorry, She's Takin


They all did more interesting things than you,
because you never had any fucking clue
what on earth you wanted to do
and to this day that's still fucking true.
I wonder if the lies Disney promised you
are grounds enough to fucking sue? 
Since that goddamn cunt riding his cryosleep canoe
promised you a princess and a good goddamned hairdo
And all you ended up with was an untameable mullet and a gnu?


I saw you once, practicing jujitsu,
it made me think about the battle of Waterloo
and how twice now I have failed you.

Pauline Brexit And Her Seven Deadly Droogs

What an exciting time to be alive, with possibilities so endless and our future so bright, until some old conservative cunt comes along and turns it all to shite because they hate muslims and pakis and they always think they're right.

There's no reasoning with a cunt. They'll shuffle off in just a few years time, well before they feel the brunt, of all the shit choices they've made, and unlike us they'll be too old for conscription to the front. Guns should be used on the old when their minds start failing - when they start nodding in agreement with the fascists, that's when their mind is ailing. Because they once fought them in one of their 'glorious' wars, and yet now sit here a mindless bigoted bore, shouting at the television 'BUILD A WALL!", "KICK THEM OUT THE DOOR!", "SHE LOOKS LIKE A WHORE!" Goodbye grandpa, old age has rotten you to the core. Your addled old mind is a seeping festering sore.

The Meal I Always Hoped For

Eating is awesome, but it brings back memories. A friend I had back in 2005 choked whilst eating. Whenever I see chewing gum on the sidewalk I think of her. Rest in peace Jelly Belly Hen. She died at the end of her final meal actually, right after her last chew.

The Girl I Always Dreamed About

Sleeping is awesome, but it brings back memories. A girlfriend I had back in 2005 was murdered whilst sleeping. Whenever I sleep I dream about her. Rest in peace Elise. She woke right before the life left her, right before she went to sleep forever.

Friday, 5 August 2016

Onward!

Why? Why do I keep going? Why do I keep writing this shit in a dark corner of the internet that nobody reads? Well, let me see. perhaps I believe that a burden shared is a burden somewhat relieved. Or maybe that I'll somehow infect some poor passer by with as much misery as me. Or perhaps neither of these. Perhaps I'm just doing this for me. Like a fifteen year old girl romanticizing the ups and downs of boyfriend number three. Waxing lyrically about how hard it is to live and love and hate things so desperately, writing all these things to nobody at all, particularly. I don't know... fucks me! I'd rather be here though, writing creatively, than arguing on facebook like a cunt basically.

Youtubeus Commentus

Breathing is awesome, but it brings back memories. A grandmother I had back in 2005 died while breathing. Whenever I breathe I think about her. RIP Grandma. She died right at the end of breathing actually, right after her last breath.

Wednesday, 3 August 2016

S., Oh, S.

The Pokémon I most desired broke free on the same day the woman I most desired rejected me. What awaits me now to complete my hat-trick of misery? Sometimes I wish a Pokéstop would collapse on my head and crush me to death. My heart is stuck on a page that won't load that I can't even refresh and my soul is simply bereft.

Monday, 1 August 2016

The Greatest Autobiography Of James And Dom And Goodbye (2016 Remix)

We've been at it again for over two years. Taking parts of our lives and fictionalizing them here. This time it's different though for it's finally becoming clear that the end isn't near, the end was Eastbourne Pier and we're now in the middle of the Channel, swimming against the tide, keeping our heads above water purely to keep up the pretence of still being alive, with no new horizons in sight.

In the old days we could conjure up hate even in our 4am daze. Now the anger has subsided, but so has the notion of us ever again feeling excitement. When you're young you see a ladder and you want to climb it, now if we "see" one we just absentmindedly pass by it.