Monday, 21 December 2009

moments as they pass.

i step out into the air sometimes, and feel like i know everything about the universe. not that i really know anything, it's not an intellectual thing, it's just a feeling. maybe it's just the feeling of the wind. but whatever it is, it feels good. it happens if i'm out on my own at 5.37am, or it happens if i'm making my way home in the cold at 1am -- i look up to the sky, see a few clouds, see the streetlights, and everything seems important somehow. it's just a feeling. it comes maybe once every few months. i wish i knew how to hold onto it.

it's that same feeling you get when you go on a holiday for two weeks. on about the ninth night, you sit on the beach and you put your left hand in the sand and feel how real it is, and you do the same with your right hand except you are disturbed by the cigarette end at the tip of your finger. but with both hands, you realize everything is important somehow. and you hear the water crashing in and you feel a bit more alive than you did earlier in the day. but it all feels important somehow. and you hear a beautiful girl in the distance, she's about 19 - and she's messing around by the water with her boyfriend, and you're a bit jealous of how much fun they're having, but you're not too jealous, you kind of love to see them happy. because it all feels so real, and so important somehow.

and it's just a feeling, it's some kind of light breeze that sweeps over you every now and then, and you can't put it into words, it's just there, and something about it makes you smile as you snap a leaf from a tree and fiddle with it all the way home. there's something about the world, something about your place in it. it feels easier than you've been making it. everything makes a little more sense.

Friday, 18 December 2009

the campfire.

and we read stories of people sitting around campfires
and dancing
and playing
and smiling
and dreaming
and we read stories of nights that lasted for days

but for us we
shared files
posted on walls
tagged things
deleted stuff
clicked, sorted, and managed

and we read stories of glances
and feelings
and believing
and loving
and dreaming
and flying

but for us we
thought about texting,
put smiley faces in emails
avoided the phone call
uploaded & decoded

and we read stories of nights that lasted for days

Tuesday, 24 November 2009

a bucket list for the living.

think, sleep, pee, dream, hope, confuse, run, stay, hide, dive, grab, become, watch, leave, like, love, believe, deny, cry, fight, stumble, demand, take, create, break, steal, decide.

do any of them. do all of them or one of them, just don't write a blog instead.

Monday, 7 September 2009


"I can't remember, what went wrong last September, though I'm sure you'd remind me if you had too." -
John Mayer, 'Comfortable'

September was the month when she got cancer. September was the month that he got cancer. It was late August when he got hit by a motorcycle, but the aftermath was in September. It was a September when she left me. It was a September when I left her. Every sentence is about a different person, except for me. I was present for all of those. September is not like any other month. September has a weight to it. You can feel it in the air. You can feel it as you breath. Relationships form and relationships break. In September, you find out who you really are and you find out who you are not. This is the month when you can lose everything and find nothing. The reward you crave is that someone will say it's October. Sometimes October never comes.

"as my memory rests
but never forgets what I lost
wake me up when September ends" -
Green Day, 'Wake Me Up When September Ends'

The weight is something you can't avoid. The ghosts of September past are here. You can feel it in the air, you can feel it in your stomach. It's why you don't sleep and it's why you don't smile. Your energy is zapped-- you are just floating through the month, desperate not to focus on anything.

In September, the phone rings. Someone is having a scan, somebody is flying somewhere, someone somewhere is doing something. But you wish they'd just avoid all these things and stay in some bunker of safety. Just stay there and wait till September ends, for everybody's sake.

"I had a bad month in September,
October scared the hell out of me.
I got lonely,
In November,
But December's where I want to be."

I'm not going to blog for a while. Take it easy.

Saturday, 29 August 2009


and i didn't even realise i was lonely. i didn't even realise i had nobody. nothing, there is nothing, i don't have nothing but nothing, it's less than anything.

they don't call me, they don't need me, they don't want me, they don't know me.

it's not even something, it's not even anything, it's absolutely nothing.

and i'm just sitting in my room.
and i'm just sitting in my room.
nothing, nothing, nothing,
i'm doing nothing
not even. ANYTHING.

i'm wasting this day.
i wasted yesterday.
i'll waste another day.

Tuesday, 25 August 2009

take another bite of me

Yes, I am scared of the fucking dentist. And here's why.

The dentist told me my teeth were awesome for years. I was the boy with no fillings, which was extremely rare. Everything was fine. And then one day, out of nowhere; I was like 14, they tell me my bite is all out of place and loads of panicky stuff about how it will affect me. And I'm like "dude, I don't want a brace" but they tell me I can have one of these ones that you can take in and out. I'm glad they gave me the option, cause I took it out.

Truth be told, I just wasn't man enough to wear braces and be proud about it. Our school was tough like that. So I basically just wore this brace thing at night. But it seemed to work, because the dentist was like 'woahhh, all fixed. Great. Your teeth are now lined up. Sweet.'

And then it was like a year later when I was at some dentist and the panic buttons went off, alarms everywhere--- YOU HAVE NO ENAMEL LEFT!!!!. The dentist said "hey stumbling falling dreaming flying, do you realize you have NO enamel?" and I was like "what's enamel?" and he said "it's important stuff" so I said "make sure I have some" but he said "you don't have any."

"So where the fuck is my enamel?" i asked, he pointed to a little display of coke cans and juices and said, "these things stole your enamel," so i said, "well let's steal the enamel the fuck back" and he said, "you can't, coke steals enamel forever," and i said, "correct me if i'm wrong" and he said, "you're wrong," but i said "i haven't even started yet" and he said, "okay sorry" so i said "correct me if I'm wrong but you've never mentioned enamel to me before," and he said, "no" and i said, "well i'm glad we cleared that up."

So my teeth have been about one fizzy drink away from disappearing for like 15 years or whatever now. And occassionally I'll notice when looking in the mirror that my teeth are eroding, chipping away. And it pisses me off, why did i find out about the enamel thing so late? Why, when I was 12 or whatever, or during the whole brace thing didn't someone say, "dude, enamel. it's bad. stop drinking lemonade."

So i stopped the fizzy stuff and the fruity stuff and all that stuff with acid. I got hooked on tea. Tea had the glorious caffeine and it didn't make enamel die.

So i was like 17, and it was a really grumpy age for me. I've analysed the reasons closely and found that the reason I was grumpy was because I was 17. I said, "do you have something i can take to make 17 less painful?" and he said "yeah, turn 18."

So anyways, I went to the dentist and he said, "you really need to stop smoking," and i said, "but i don't smoke," and he said, "that's funny, but you must stop smoking, your teeth are disgusting." So I said, "mate, you'd better shut your fucking pie hole," so he said, "okay, but you must stop smoking" and i said "i don't smoke. If you tell me I smoke one more time i'm going to tell you to shut the fuck up," to which he replied, "stop smoking," so i said, "shut the fuck up."

So he scraped away at the brown gunk that had clung to my teeth. This guy was supposedly a professional dentist, you'd think he'd know the difference between cigarette shit and tea shit.

So i stopped going to the dentist. And now, like, my teeth are fine, kinda. But they're getting a bit small, i think i grind away. And the enamel is evidently fucked because my main teeth seem to be ebbing away. Delightful. And my smile comes with yellowy-brown-tea-ness. Usually, when a girl says, "keep your mouth shut," it's offensive, but with me they just find it more attractive that way.

So I hate going to the dentist because I feel like they'll make shit up that I wasn't aware of like, "oh my god have you been watching the BBC?," and I'll say, 'yeah why?' and they'll say "the BBC causes giant flammable tooth decay!" and then I'll have to deal with that too.

Suffice to say, I've not called up a dentist for a date in years. Until today. My appointment is next week. And it's an NHS dentist, so i get to do the whole british healthcare thing. At least I can. Unless of course there is some kind of dental death panel with Adolf Hitler sitting next to Stalin and Obama. But then, that would be kind of amusing, especially if i could convince them for a game of scrabble.

Saturday, 22 August 2009

go a different way.

Life happens quickly, then you die.

People repress you, then you die. People fight with you, then you die. People are jealous of you, then you die. People are destructive towards you, then you die. Or maybe you are repressive, a fighter, jealous and destructive. Either way you are numerous things and then you die.

Or you could go a different way. We have a tendency to moan about the people in our lives; we'll work for ten years with a repressive boss, we'll spend thirty years putting up with a jealous, destructive friend. Well, I'm telling you, you can go another way.

The first thing to do is accept that you are part of the problem. You play the victim, you sit there like fresh fish. You play a role which allows someone to be jealous of you, or angry towards you. So the first thing you can do is address this pattern with the person causing you strife. Or, if you are strong enough-- you can change the pattern; you can choose not to be victimized.

Or maybe it's time to let someone go or change your situation. Quite often it's pretty obvious and you've had everyone who knows you saying, "I don't know how you put up with it."

"Jealousy is fear of abandonment." -unknown.

When a jealous person fears losing you, they'll do anything they can to undermine your relationships and opportunities; and they'll do it by playing on your insecurities. So when things go wrong, you feel like you're to blame. A person who does this is not someone you want in your life. Their jealousy becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy, because to NOT abandon them will leave you repressed and miserable for the REST of your life.

You are made to feel like shit, and then you die. Or you can go a different way.

It's one year ago today that my Uncle went out for some milk, and was killed crossing the road as a speeding motorbike struck him down, severing his leg; leaving him dying in the street. Things can really end that quickly. The great thing about his life is that in the five years prior to his death he changed his life completely, and in a birthday card to his wife, my Aunt, not long before his death; he wrote that it had been the best year of his life.

Life is short. If you die tomorrow, you need to make sure you righted the wrongs in your life. Getting rid of the destructive people in your life isn't a task for some distant, hazy tomorrow, it's for today.

Tuesday, 18 August 2009

The Big Empty

I am perched on a wall somewhere near Waterloo, I've been spending the best part of two hours walking around. I sat in a cafe for half an hour with a cup of tea and an annoying man yapping away somewhere on another table. My walk was broken down by me sitting in a park for twenty minutes, staring at pigeons and wondering how their day was going.

And the running theme in my mind was one of discontent, one of emptiness. It might be because the girl isn't in to me, it may be because it's coming up to exactly one year since my Uncle's existence was wiped out by a careless motorcyclist, it may be because I need a nap, it could be anything.

I put my tired and world weary feelings down to being overworked. But I just checked my diary, it hasn't been that busy. But then my mind has been busy, racing away as it does. I'm into the whole personal growth thing, the positive thinking thing, the psychology stuff.. I love it all and believe in it. But the more aware you become of you and those around you, the more you see how unaware they are. People's judgements and resentments just wear you down. And you just feel tired. You want a beach, a sea, and a girl with a golden tan. But all you have is this wall, somewhere near Waterloo.

And you look around as if for a sign, as if for someone to say 'I am the missing link! I hold the key! The big empty is no more,' but that person doesn't exist. I know that I hold the key, I just have a habit of opening the wrong doors, or when one is locked I don't take the time to smash it down.

Well that was nice, a little bit of metaphorical wording, but let's not distract from what's really going on-- that a giant Big Empty is pulsating through me, wondering where they've put the beaches.

I am so over being like this.
I am so past it.

Sunday, 16 August 2009

but i need answers!

she said

i just can't understand why
i don't know why we didn't make it
why aren't we together?
why did we break up?

why did you say you'd go with me to the thing when you had no intention to?
why did you say that you loved me when you didn't.
why did you make all that effort one day only to take it all back the next?
why did you stick around for so long in the first place?

she said

why? why? why? why?

i said

i really, really, really do not care in the slightest. i have no answers for you. just like i didn't a year ago. go away. go away. go away.

Friday, 14 August 2009

dream a little dream for me.

i am so tired oh so so tired. so i thought ahead as to what days i want to be untired for and figured it'd be okay, especially if i can get some sleep tonight. i really need some sleep tonight because tomorrow is a long work day. not that i really need to be awake, i mean, i could sleep through it and still get everything done. but at least, with sleep i wouldn't be so grumpy, i wouldn't need so much caffeine.

i blame my pillow for most of the time i am unable to sleep.

i also blame myself for still not knowing whether i sleep with one pillow or two. and i don't know which side to lay on. and where are my arms meant to go? anywhere i put them, it's so unnatural. how confusing.

i am so tired. and i have a really bad headache. i tried figuring out what the headache is trying to tell me. was it telling me i am just tired? is it telling me i'm stressed? is it telling me to hold something back? is it telling me to chill? is it telling me i'm grumpy? what do you want headache? am i allowed to take a pill to ease your spell on me or would that be breaking the rules?

ugh. i should sleep. i only blogged this out to see what tired, headachy blogging is like. no way am i spell checking, or adding photos.

i wonder what i'll dream about. are the dreams already written and cast? i guess i'll never know. i wonder where the dreams will be set. i wonder if she'll be in them. probably not, as rumour has it she's signed a long-term dream-deal with Rick, who i despise. it's weird going to bed and not knowing whether it'll be a normal dream or one of those ones where my ex-girlfriend rents a monkey to perform hanson songs to me whilst i am mud-wrestling with a woman called kate who keeps saying the word 'chive' whilst doing hitler salutes; as everyone i knew in school is standing there making ham sandwiches.

it's time to sleep. goodnight.

Thursday, 13 August 2009

the heart of life.

i climbed onto your bed and sat next to you, staring up at the ceiling- we just wanted to break right through it. everyone else sat around the bedside; some worrying, some thinking about dinner, some trying their best to keep to small talk. we were in our own world, me and you-- silly jokes were involved in our little bubble. you were about to have the scariest thing of your little life done to you, but you were just a kid, you were just a kid and you didn't need to be thinking about where the nurses were taking you.

and i heard snow patrol on the radio that night singing "if i lay here, if i just lay here, would you lie with me and just forget the world?"

i remember laying beside your bed, waiting for the surgeons to come back and tell us something. i had my headphones in and was laying down by the window, i'd thrown my glasses to the side so i could lay down comfortably. i was in my own little world.

and i remember john mayer singing "i hate to see you cry, lying there in that position."

i remember turning around to face the room, i'm not sure if i was in a daze or just in need of my glasses, but there was this hazy outline of men in blue standing in the room, addressing your mum and dad. i grabbed the headphones off my head and jumped up. they said something about it going really well and achieving everything they wanted to achieve.

i remember everything. not because it's depressing, but because you were more of a man at 10 years old, then any man has ever been since. and now you're the greatest 13 year old in the world.

show me a garden that's bursting into life.

all that i am,
all that i ever was,
is here in your perfect eyes
they're all i can see.

Wednesday, 12 August 2009

king of the coffees.

i know guys who would kill to meet a hot girl for a coffee. i meet hot girls for coffees all the time. i am the king of the coffee.

what happens is, we meet for coffee. and i say 'no, i'll pay,' and then we sit and drink coffee and i talk for a while about how my career is going okay but not perfect but kinda good but okay it could be better but really i am also very excited and oh hold on she's starting to get bored so maybe i'll talk about her.

so then she talks about her ex and talks a bit about some other dude and then some family member called julie and mentions julie as if i should know julie and i nod along and then she looks at me for some kind of psychological insight and then i say 'oh yeah, you do that as a defence mechanism' and then she looks at me like i am some kind of god of insight.

and then i say we should get another coffee and then she says i should really go so i say that's a defence mechanism and she says no i should just really go so then she goes.

and this happens a lot with like a million different girls. a lot of guys get to their limits of comfort by merely being near a girl, some reach their point of fear at the very moment of sex, i reach my peak in the middle of starbucks.

so, as i look back at my career of coffee, i realise, i have had a lot of coffee with a lot of girls. and now i look back and i think, hold on-- surely, quite possibly, i guess maybe at least some of them could have liked me? if another dude i know went across town to meet a girl who'd also travelled across town just to do coffee i'd think hey hold on maybe she wants coffee. but with me they just want coffee. or so i assume. but now i wonder, maybe i was in there.

but in my mind it's like 'dude it's just coffee.' but why would they meet me a lot just for a caffeine kick? i'm not stupid, i know a lot of them would. i mean, why the fuck not, what else is there to do on a thursday afternoon at 4pm if you're not working? but maybe, somewhere, in my long list of girls i meet to discuss the world with and to give made up insights too --- at least some of them, surely, maybe, hopefully, definitely, okay maybe not at all, possibly... could have seen me in more of a positive light than just the dude they drink coffee with?

i don't know. maybe not.

i prefer tea anyway.

Monday, 10 August 2009


the touch was perfect. it was the arms in the cinema, the hand on the knee in your room, my thumb up against your little finger as we held the thingy on the train so not to fall over.

that's the best we could ever be. let's meet up for some accidental contact, or slight subtle stroking. anything less than that is nothing. anything more than that leads to heartbreak, insecurities, intentions. but the little touches are perfect.

the little hairs on your arms are adorable. your skin is warm and smooth. i just noticed your little bit of a sexy tan.

there is nothing better than a girl initiating an innocent skin-on-skin action. 'oh i'm just reaching for that dvd.' yeah right. 'look at this thing on my arm,' okay.

it might be friendly innocence.
it might be flirting.
it might be raging passions.
whatever it is, i want to delay it.
the touch is everything.

Friday, 7 August 2009

you get just one crack at life, who wants to live it in trouble and strife?

and her excuses mounted up-- it's not the right time, i have some things to figure out, i need some time to be me, i don't think you're quite right for this time in my life, i think i'm not quite sure what i feel.


She was like-- oh my god i have so many feelings i can't process, i need to figure out what this means to me, i'm not quite sure i'm ready to feel anything again, i'm not sure i trust you i mean i trusted barry and he ran off with susan, i need to figure out my job before i can be ready to even think about loving again.


She was all-- hey come on don't be silly, this isn't the right time for me to feel, i can't deal right now, i'm not even sure where i am in my life, when this is over we can talk about us, and anyway i'm kind of seeing george he's really nice and he should be back from the gym any minute.


She looked in the mirror-- is now the right time? have i figured my poor little self out? am i ready to love? did i process my feelings? did i do the right thing? maybe I'll call Mr. Red on the telephone.


She visited his grave and said-- you meant so much to me, you cared so much for me, you were a shining light in my life, i think i may well have loved you....

She talked some more about love and soulmates and having wasted her time. She sobbed away as if someone should have sympathy for her. The only thing to do was to remind her of a simple fact.


Thursday, 6 August 2009

Thank You, Truly.

Millions of people have written about him over the past weeks - but I wanted to throw a few words into the ring, if only for myself.

Harry Patch was the last remaining British soldier from World War 1 - who passed away on July 25th 2009 at the age of 111 (he was briefly the oldest man in Europe). It was inevitable, of course, that one day we would no longer have first generation people to tell us about what happened. It fills me with a saddness I can't completely explain-- but I am thankful that the last man standing was Harry, because the work he did in his final years, of sharing his message of peace and reconcilliation is something that will speak for years to come.

"It wasn't worth it. No war is worth it. No war is worth the loss of a couple of lives let alone thousands. T'isn't worth it...the First World War, if you boil it down, what was it? Nothing but a family row. That's what caused it. The Second World War...Hitler wanted to govern Europe, nothing to it. I would have taken the Kaiser, his son, Hitler and the people on his side and bloody shot them. Out the way and saved millions of lives. T'isn't worth it."

His views could perhaps be seen as simplistic-- but when it comes down to it, you realise just how right he is. What are we fighting for? Why do we do this? Why do we live this way?

He demanded than when he died, his body be carried by soldiers who are the age he was when World War 1 ended. And most moving of all - is that he had two German soldiers as pallbearers. I thought that was beautiful, and incredibly meaningful.

"Irrespective of the uniforms we wore, we were all victims."

I sit here in my comfortable back room, sipping tea. I have the comfort of my family, my job, my money, my home, my iPhone, my blog, my everything. I cannot comprehend or understand what you did for me, what you continue to do for me, and how thankful I am.

We are lucky in that there are veterans and holocaust survivors from World War 2. Although not enough. Let's make sure we take care of them. Let's make sure we listen, when they speak, yet understand if they don't want to. Let's make them proud.

Harry's message is of massive importance. It's time to forget about the division in terms of who fought who. German soldiers were the same as ours, just little boys being told to do a job. Let's learn from them, let's take care of them.

"If two Governments can't agree give them a rifle each and let them fight it out. Don't lose 20,000 men. It isn't worth it,"

Monday, 3 August 2009

And she never looked inside herself.

And the girl had never looked inwards, to see what might be wrong. Those around her were too angry, too judgemental, too self-obsessed, too rude, too impolite. Those around her were always in the wrong.

As her family split up into a million tiny pieces, she never saw her role. As the men drifted away, she never saw her part in their leaving. Sure, she said, 'it must be something about me,' but she never looked into why.

What would have happened if she'd looked at her own anger? her own judgements? Maybe if she'd looked at how she can be so rude, impolite, and self-obsessed. It seemed wasteful to be self-obsessed enough to believe the world was out to get her, or people were, without ever investigating further. She never found out what was in her. 'It must be something about me' is what she said, but she never looked at herself in the mirror that way.

It was a bit strange how everyone around her had failed in some way. You'd have thought she'd have seen they are humans, just like her. If only she had taken the time to see how she's similar to them, rather than just different.

'I blame myself' is what she said, of course, because she's self-obsessed. But why didn't she say 'I blame myself, maybe I can grow from this.' She took too long to identify with her own part in her life. She took too long to discover why she'd been left, and let down, and looked down upon. She took too long to say 'I'm me.' Before long she was nothing like anyone around her, because she refused to admit she can be spiteful, condescending, confusing, selfish. She didn't see how a moment of road rage or an argument in a shop was as much about her as the other person.

Her brain divided. All that could love, feel and receive was cut off from her personality, because she spent too long on the other side, too long being defeated by not opening her eyes to herself. And as she takes her pills and mutters to herself about her prejudices, she doesn't realise she's just an insight away from growing. If she took a day to look at herself and identify with who she is -- she might just find the road to happiness.

Friday, 31 July 2009

Better Days

Isn't today a wonderful day? And I feel bad because I'm losing touch with you, internet. Outside it's a wonderful day. It might be sunny, it might be raining -- either way, I'm still breathing. You're still breathing. Everyone is still breathing. So today is a good day.

If you're worried about smiling, it just takes one smile to make a smile and we can all do it right now. Go smile at a stranger, see them nearly have a heart attack when they see it. Who cares, they're still breathing.

Isn't today a wonderful day? You can jump up in the air. You're allowed. You can have your iPod really loud. You're allowed. You can email an old friend. It's allowed. You can have a beer. It's allowed. You can watch an old movie. It's allowed. You can say to your boss "in a minute, I'm doing something". It's allowed.

You're allowed to have a wonderful day. Let's have a day free of repression, depression and reflection. Let today be today. You're breathing, I'm breathing, our houses are standing and there's tea in the pot.

Come on, I'm not joking.. keep that smile on your face.

Feel it. Feel alive, feel some pride, feel everything.

Today is a great day. And if someone you love is not having such a good day, maybe they can't have the best day ever, but you can make it a bit better. You can make them breath easier. All it takes is a phone call. A box of chocolates. A bad joke. A smile. A ticket. A song. A Dance. A dream.

Wow, what an amazing day.

I'm breathing, you're breathing, and Van Morrison is on the radio.
I'm breathing, you're breathing, and someone loves you.
I'm breathing, you're breathing, and you deserve some ice cream today.
I'm alive, you're alive, and we feel alright.

What a day to be alive. And the good news is? Tomorrow's looking just the same.

Thursday, 30 July 2009

summer dreams ripped at the seams

it was a warm summers night, some years ago. she was everything then but she could be anywhere now. she used to call because she wanted to know how i was at night, she wanted to hear me before she faded to black. but now it's gone and she could be anywhere at all with anyone at all. i'm sure she needs and wants and feels like before, but it has nothing to do with me.

and it was a summers night, some years ago. we walked and talked and there was something hovering in the air that made the evening seem important. i can still feel that night in my heart, but i wonder if she remembers it at all. i wonder if it meant anything to her. i wonder.

it was a warm summers night, some years ago. she looked at me once or twice, maybe three times. and in her eyes i knew we were meant to be together. and when i got home that night i got a message from her, i really enjoyed tonight is what she said. it was everything. i enjoyed it, she enjoyed it, and then i heard her voice on a phone -- it was her voice, my voice, and this feeling in the air that we were meant to be on this call and nowhere else at all.

and she used to call me at night, just to see how i am. just to tell me how she is. and she'd have the last word on my night before i went to bed. it was a warm summers night, some years ago. and now she is somewhere, anywhere, with someone who could be anyone. and i'm no-one at all.

Wednesday, 29 July 2009

While You Were Sleeping.

I'm awake. I think I'm awake. I'm not moving. Am I still asleep?. Who's that? Am I dreaming?. Wiggle toe, wiggle. Come on. Hold on, I'm not breathing properly. What is going on? Am I breathing? Fuck--- come on, am I breathing?. I'll scream. I'm screaming. I'm shouting. Can't you hear me?.

You are not shouting. You're laying dead still.

I am not asleep, I know this because I can feel my arm under me, I can sense my whereabouts, I'm awake. Okay, time to get up. I'm lifting my arm up. I'm opening my eyes. I'm looking around the room. Come on eyes, open! open!. I'm pushing out with my arms, and I'm calling. Is no-one hearing me?.

Your arms are not moving. You are not calling. Are you breathing?.

Oh fuck, is this it? Am I breathing? Am I going to die in my sleep? This is it, oh God. This is awful. I'm trying to fight, nothing is happening. Okay, maybe I'll just chill out. Okay, I'm chilling out.

A wave crushes through you. It's like you're being zapped away on a rollercoaster, or taken to some other plain of existence. You're definitely not laying in your bed anymore.

But I am laying in my bed. I'm not moving, I'm hardly breathing, I feel a pressure on me. COME ON FEET, MOVE! GET ME OUT OF THIS!. Oh God, Oh God.. who was that? What is that figure in my room? What's that sound? What's that blue flash? Oh my God. I'm dead. Am I dead? I'm not breathing. Oh God. Oh God. Please help me. Someone please help me! Oh fucking God what is happening to me.

You are sleeping peacefully.

OH FUCK, please. Just let me breath. Let me open my eyes. Let me move. I can almost feel my little finger. Come on boy, move that finger. Maybe you can do something.

You are laying dead still.

Come on, come on finger! Fuck, I've stopped breathing. Fuck. Come on.

Your finger moved.
You've opened your eyes.

I'm awake!!! I'm breathing! I'm alive! I'm normal. Okay, things are fine. Although, I feel like there's a ghost in the room. I'm turning the light on.

--This is the joy of Sleep Paralysis.

if heaven exists.

it exists inside this song. in particular, this version of this song. the middle part is beyond incredible.

have you ever been so lost?
have you ever been so lost?
have you ever been so alone?

have you ever felt so empty inside?
empty like you have nothing left
you wasn't sure of yourself

empty like you weren't, like you weren't sure who you were anymore.

Monday, 27 July 2009

Just get on with it.

I had this feeling and it said "when she's not in your life, you'll be a lot happier," and it's funny, because it sounded just like that voice that spoke to me the other day, it said, "When you have that job, and you live in that house-- you'll feel like fresh air, you'll feel as fine as the sand you'll see out your window."

And I. can. almost. feel it. I am almost me, I just need to get there first. I just need to get that love in my life, and I need to get that paycheck and I need to get that plane ride. When I have those, I'll be that amazing me I've always known I would be. You know who I mean-- it's the me who has a great tan, and a smile-- and my jokes hit the spot because I'm so relaxed and at ease when I tell them.

I'll be so much better then. I keep meaning to be that version of me, like when I'm in a shop and the woman is taking ages to scan my shopping. I keep meaning to smile, and be at ease with it; because life is wonderful. But life isn't quite wonderful. There's too much going on, I'm too busy and my head is all abuzz. If Johnny wasn't ill, and Claire wasn't being awkward and if my boss would listen to me, then I would be happy; because one day, I'm going to inspire people, and do charity work, and change the world bit by bit. But yeah, after that stuff is sorted out.

But hold on.

It's just like a few years back when I was almost ready to be that better version of me. I was going to let my hair be more natural, I was going to be less uptight, I was going to smile-at-you and I was going to be wonderful. But there were reasons I couldn't back then-- just like now.

The nature of life...

..Is that if Johnny isn't ill, then Mary will probably be ill. And if Claire isn't being awkward, then Natalie is probably going to be really manipulative; and if my boss was listening to me; then maybe my Brother would not understand me. The nature of life is that there are always obstacles.

Does that mean I can never be the wonderful version of me? Will life always stop me from smiling? Will it stop me from being the random, freewheelin' stumbler I am in my imagination? Why am I not the cool, loving, at ease soul who I feel in my heart? What is stopping him from being?

Well if Johnny is ill and my brother isn't understanding me and Natalie is being manipulative, in fact; even if everything seems to be stumbling and falling-- couldn't I just be happy anyway? Wouldn't that makes things better?

I could smile, I could be joyful. I could walk across the fields with this big beaming smile on my face, with my soul dancing in the wind because it has found true joy. And that woman in the supermarket would have a good day because I took the time to look at her and speak to her and say something nice. Would the world explode if I did that?

Be The Change You Want To See In The World

I finally get that quote. I don't want to be a victim of the people around me anymore. I don't want the environment to get the better of me. If I want the change, I'll be the change. If I want the world to smile more, if I want to be this super-powered wonderous version of me, I'll be it. I'll tear down the walls that've kept me being normal-me-not-quite-wonderful-me. I'm going to be the great version of me, starting right now. Life isn't always going to be wonderful, but it will only go downhill if I let circumstances dictate my mood.

I am happy.
I am alive.
I believe.
I love.
I live.

Will you join me, starting today?

Sunday, 26 July 2009

the simple things

she's a lovely girl
but her tea tastes really weird, what the fuck?
she's such a pretty thing
but seriously, your tea. what the hell is going on? teabag, water, milk. what's so difficult?
she has the eyes of a sweet sweet angel
but this tea tastes like shit. is it some kind of disability? are you fucking retarded?
she has the kind of body that makes me go crazy, i can hardly control myself
but like, i've had a hard day-- i want a nice tea. WHAT IS THIS? WHY DOES IT TASTE SO BAD?
she is so wonderful. and those cute eyes told me they wanted me. and from her perfect lips she shared a little secret, she said "I only want to be with you"
but a blind, paralysed camel with anxiety issues could make a better cuppa than this. get the fuck out, love.

a dream. a girl.

life is pretty good.
i am on that road.
and i am heading somewhere really fast.

but there's this girl
and she made me feel
what? why? why do i feel that?

life is falling into place.
my dreams are here and they are calling me home.
they are calling me home.

but this girl is so beautiful.
and if she so much as looks at me,
i'm handing her the keys to my life.
please don't look at me.

i am on my way.
i have worked so hard, for so long.
i am finally reaching that place of respect.

but she smiled at me
and I don't know anymore

what is to gain?
what is to lose?
who am I?
who is she?
what do I want?
what does she want?

i am getting on this plane.
my dreams are waiting on the other side.
i have had this dream since I was five.

she's had this dream since she was 4.
she's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.
i can't cope with her smile.
please don't smile at me.

Saturday, 25 July 2009


In 1944, I could have been a Polish Jew, 7 years old-- starved for nine months and then had my little body gassed without my family knowing.

In 1993 I could have been a Muslim woman in Yugoslavia, being raped by Serbian men and not knowing why.

I could be a 50 year old African man in 2009, or I could be that same man in 1999 but I'd be forty years old, or it could be 1989 and I'm 30 years old. And the whole time my family have looked at me to find them water, and only occasionally could I deliver.

In 2003, I could have been an Iraqi school teacher who's just inspired a young child to do a really beautiful drawing. I could have survived my school being bombed with only a broken leg.

It could be 1860, and this white man is beating me because I didn't clean the shit in his front yard quite to his liking. But it's not as bad as it sounds because I hardly knew I was human at the time.

In 2009, I could be an English guy in his 20's who hardly looks at the news at all, hardly knows anything, hardly cares. I could be a guy in his 20's who get stressed when his internet connection doesn't work, I could get angry at people when they don't speak English.

I could have been anything at all.
You could have been anything at all.
These people are all still around us, in different ways.
I don't want to judge anymore.
I don't want to hate.
I want to know about your life.
I want to know where you grew up.
I want to know your history.

I want to be your friend.

Wednesday, 22 July 2009

there i am

and you remember a little memory of being under the streetlights on some damp november night from when you were 16. and you were dressed to impress even though you felt silly as if everyone would know you were only 16 when you were trying to pass for something really old, like 18. and you remember how beautiful she looked even though right now the memory is just a blur. and you can't help but wonder why the building is so clear and the sky so clear but the memory of her face is like one of those tv shows where they blur out the ones who wouldn't give permission.

and you realise that's exactly it, the girl never gave you permission to keep her in your memory. in fact she'd probably rather she stay there as a blur because the blur is far more perfect than who she really is. but this hazy memory is perfection. it may be a blur but it's the most beautiful blur you've ever seen.

and she said 'i hope you come tonight,' and you came along, and you sat in the corner munching on the free snacks as she danced with her boyfriend. there's no way she loves that guy, i mean, there's nothing too him. there's everything to you. that's why you connect with her so much.

and you are aware that you are only 16 years old. but you aren't aware that who you are at 16 years old becomes imprinted on you forever. the photograph of you at 16 says everything about you. and you don't understand how a boy in a picture can have so many dreams, and you--- and you are still that boy, but at the same time you're not him at all.

If she had loved you at 16, who would you be today? what age would you be? when you're 24, when you're 39, when you're 73.. do you want to feel something new or do you want to feel what you felt when you were 16?

there's a blur. there's a photograph. there's a smell you can't identify. there's a road you walked down. there's a word she said and there's a meaning you took from it. she meant something else but, deep down, you still believe she meant it for you. because if she didn't, then being 16 was a waste of time. you live the rest of your life in the hope that a girl will say something to you and it will make you feel like you're 16 again. you are after that feeling.

Tuesday, 21 July 2009

Leap For You

something something nothing nothing anything was a blog that I wrote as a spur of the moment thing. I originally posted it on my old blog, last week, and upon setting up this blog reposted it here. It seemed to connect with a few people.

A friend of mine read it, and he was like "hey, there's a song in that." - Cut to a few days later and he's thrown together a version of it. He's changed the words a bit (improved them dramatically) - but the heart and soul of it is still, it feels, very much my voice. Hope you like it.

don't come around here no more.

and you find it hard to have any interesting viewpoint about the weather. but when someone talks about cancer, you know how to talk about it. you know what it is, you know what it does. and you can't help but be a little sad that you're more comfortable talking about cancer than about the weather, or about anything else.

and you know that cancer isn't a thing in the body like the doctors say it is, but really it's this cloud that hovers around, it's like this thing in the air. and it's just waiting. it's just waiting.

and you become much better at everything in life. you realise a problem at work is just a problem at work, and stress is just stress and arguments are just people who have problems with themselves. so in that respect, you're better off. but in other ways, you become scared of your phone. you've been meaning to change the ringer for years. because you feel like every time it rings it'll be that cloud saying 'i'm sorry, someone you love had a lapse in concentration so i entered their body.'

it feels like a cloud that is right there, waiting.

and when that phone rings, you hope so badly that it is just a friend wanting to chat. but chatting with a friend is hard to do because you keep messing that up. you almost feel guilty because, if the cloud was calling--then you'd know what to do, you'd know where to go. you'd know what procedures the guys in white coats are going to do to try and take the cloud away.

sometimes the sun will shine but you always know there will be more clouds on the horizon. you have seen them scattered all around you, more times than you would think is possible; even the devil would be miffed, even a dice would say it's impossible, even the law of attraction wouldn't be this quick.

this cloud has taken people i love, it has almost taken people i love, and it continues to spread rumours of a comeback. personally, i hope it takes an extended break from touring. it's not that the family don't have the power to KICK YOUR FUCKING ASS if you come near us again, it's just that-- we'd rather have some holidays, heartbreaks, heatwaves and healing.

and then we got the news today that 'it's nothing to worry about.' and we smiled. and we kind of broke down a little. and we kind of felt okay. and maybe tomorrow will be a good day.

Monday, 20 July 2009

me, myself, and myself again.

I am working hard to get somewhere, I am trying to prove myself.
Fuck you.
You never allow yourself to rest. You worry that people seeing you resting is proof you're not working hard.

I am always channelling ideas. Hunting them down. Working on them.
Your ideas are not as good as everyone elses.
You need to realise that more truthful ideas will come to you if you let them occur naturally, you need to give your imagination time to breath.

I am worried that people are going to die.
Yep, everyone's going to die the minute they're out of your sight.
You need to realize they are going to die. We all are. What's next?

I want the girl, but I have all these limits. They're in my head. They tell me she's out of my league.
She's fucking hot. She could have anyone. I bet she's fucking someone right now.
You need to shut up and get the girl. You need to realize it always stalls at the same moment, because that's the limit of your personality, based on past experience. Break it. Get past yourself.

I worry she won't want me.
Well, duh.
You need to realise that she might not want you, but why are you worrying?

I want to be doing something great!
You're too boring.
You need to close the laptop.

I want to go places, meet people, do things! I want to stumble, fall, dream and fly!
You don't have the money. Or the time. Or the personality. Fuck you.
You need to say 'I am currently going places, meeting people, I am stumbling, falling, dreaming, flying!

Sunday, 19 July 2009

a loose translation of my inner dialogue.

Well maybe I should say.. Well y'know maybe I should act like, maybe if I tried to.. Maybe if I make it seem like.. what I mean is maybe if I hide the fact that.. What if I tell her that I'm thinking of, or make her believe that I.. well I don't know I just want her to feel as if, maybe if I.. Maybe if, maybe if I, why would she? Why would she?

Maybe I could, maybe I could, hey hey hey, maybe I could just be me. Maybe she'd like that.

something something nothing nothing anything.

I could have done anything with this day. I could have gone to see you, we could have walked along by the water. And if there was no water there, we could have walked with the waves in our minds.

Thinking about it, I could do anything, on any given day. But I don't. I do something, but it's just a little piece of something that's almost nothing. It's almost nothing.

But if I could do one thing, I would come and see you. I don't even know who you are. I haven't even met you yet. But I am not going to meet you by doing nothing.

I wanna be free from this. Free from this lack of movement. I want to be free from this part of me that locks me away from all that is living. Because I feel it, I can feel the living and it is right here next to me, it is right in front of me -- I just refuse to hold it, I refuse to get in the car with it.

And I know you look at me and you think I'm in it. You think I am following my dreams and you think I am living. I'm close, I'm breathing. But I have not stepped out, I have not lept. I would leap for you, if I could just find you.

Maybe the leap comes first.

*This was written as a stream of consciousness thing, on a whim. I've not read it back. I'm posting it.