How do they do it?

So today happened, that’s pretty much the only way it can be described. Nothing particularly eventful happened but I can safely say that my hair’s attempt to make me look like a wookie has once again been foiled. Since I have made no mention of this before I must tell you that my hair hates me and tries to make me look like a cross between a wookie and Napoleon Dynamite. I might put up a picture if I am feeling particularly self destructive.So yes haircut was done this is awesome.

A bottle of vodka which has been resting at a friend’s house is now safely in my posession and cooling in the fridge. It shall be of use in a few weeks time.

On a more destructive note (yes more destructive than vodka.), I am now in posession of 2 cigars that I intend to smoke with my best fwend (yes I did just do that).

That’s all for today. Tune in next time for more boring shit about my life. I might actually post something interesting tomorow though so keep an eye out.

Damn I Forgot, This is a blog not a deviant art account

So Hello there Internet. It occured to me as I wondered what to write for the blog today that I am infact starting to paint the image of a whiny emo kid. I apologise, this is not who I am and over the next few days I shall endeavour to prove this to my three readers. Namely Cat, casey and friend of cat’s whose identity is a mystery to me.

As of now I shall sprinkle in between the depression inducing nightmares that is my fiction and personal essays also be doing what one is meant to do in a blog namely talk inane bullshit. I will aswell try to attract readers to this dark whole that is my blog. I am sorry I will be changing the theme so that it does not suck the very fabric of your soul away from you.

Which brings me to a very important factor. THERE IS NO SOUL. There we go I said it. from here on in if I refer to a soul i refer to it as a dramatic device that is actually meant to mean something else probably something different every time. and if some pissy little religious nut says but you said soul I shall just post the link to this area and that will be end of discussion. If I have offended your tiny skull then I am most certainly not sorry.

To close off I would like to say thank you to whoever reads this and comments because the 10th person to comment gets his(or her) very own…………..(I’ll tell you once the tenth comment is posted)

Precipice

That towering monster, below it I have lived. Always looking up but never seeing. What is atop that great precipice? What stands at the highest of highest peaks, perhaps something, perhaps nothing? What is there does not matter only that I must know.

So I climb. For days the rocks bite into my hands but the pain leaves my hands in a stream of blood that finds its way back to the earth. To where I was, to where I shall never return. The pain does return, brief visits that remind me of my humanity. Days turn to weeks as I climb from cliff face to mountain pass only to find myself at the foot of another cliff face. The nights are cold and bitter, they tear at my resolve but I continue. For such forces to work against me a truly magnificent Discovery must wait. My hands are hard now, they feel pain no longer but the pain still visits. Every day I struggle harder to awake.

I thought I made it today but I was wrong, I stood atop the last cliff and I thought that I was done but as I looked across the barren desert in front of me I could make out huge peaks in the distance. I must reach the top. If I do not reach the top my journey is for naught, so I walk and I walk.

I have not seen water in days and food in weeks, I don’t think I have the strength to continue but I must persevere even if this drags me to oblivion. I met a man today he smiled at me knowingly a smile that scared me. But I ignore my mind for it has become unreliable and the man has food. He gave offers me meat and bread, I thank him, eating my fill when I look up he is gone. I am Invigorated, the mountain is closer now soon I will be there then the climb will begin again.

I am here, this towering behemoth before me is nothing like what I have climbed before. I survive on parcels of food left beside me while I sleep. I commence my climb and all my old aches return, I even feel pain in my hands again. It is good to know I am still alive. I have lost track of time, I do not remember when I started or how long I have been climbing. It is all I know walking and climbing. Much time has passed and that is all I know, I know I had a life before climbing, before walking but I do not remember it. This journey is who I have become; I only hope that I can remember my destination when I see it.

As I reach the top this cliff I see a package awaiting me. I remember these from a time before this mountain, images of a land so flat you could see the horizon all around you but I cannot remember much more than that. I bite into some dried meat and wash it down with water, my memory does not clear but a feeling in the back of my mind tells me I am nearly where I must be. I stumble forward.

I see in front of me a hill, a comfortable walk for any man in good condition but it is hell for my tortured body. I walk for a while before I fall to my knees so I crawl then as my knees give way I drag myself forward. The last rays of sunshine fall on my head as I pass out.

A voice awakens me; I recognise it from a long time ago. The voice asks me the question “Was the climb worth it, was the journey worth what is now before you?”

I lift my head from the dirt and direct it towards the warmth and as I open my eyes I reply “I cannot know for I cannot see.”

Sometimes There is a happy ending

I spent years alone walking the frozen wasteland of the unloved. I still remember the first few months being back in the single life. I was happy then, I’d left the grasps of someone to whom I had opened myself too in a moment of insanity and clearly been left of the worse for it. It’s looking back to then that I understand why we are happy before we realise we are unloved and alone. It’s so that we don’t go running back to our past tormentor. It’s a defence mechanism to keep us away from those that cause us harm.

It was when I preached this back then that I encountered one argument always, “you aren’t unloved what about you’re parents and your friends”. So I will say it now again as I have said before, there are different types of love and that love which you receive from your friends and family is not what I was longing or seeking. I was seeking an intimate love and it was that hunger that was killing me slowly.
You’d think people would be queuing up to date each other considering how much it hurts to be alone but apparently that thought is wrong, It seemed that everyone but me had found there soul mate and boy did that thought hurt so I had a few flings here and there with superficial people who cared more for gifts than anything else and had clearly never felt love in their life. Which made me realise a curious thing about love, you don’t crave it till you’ve felt it at least once in your life. It’s a drug that you need only take once and you are addicted to it for life.

I think I hit rock bottom after about a year or so after that, I was spending every second day in a bar crying into my beer, as if it wasn’t watered down enough to begin with. I don’t remember much of that evening except the unpleasant feeling when they pumped my stomach and then again later when my family huddled around me.

I had nearly died from alcohol poisoning; apparently the barman was new and didn’t know when to cut someone off and so he kept serving me drinks till I passed out on the bar. I spent the better part of a month in that Hospital and that’s when I took a fancy to someone for the first time in a long time. She was the nurse in charge of my ward. She smiled warmly at me when she checked my chart and always provided pleasant conversation.

As I look down at everything that happened, all the heartache, all the hurt I experienced. It’s clear that asking out the nurse who treated me for Alcohol poisoning was not my brightest moment. So I learnt Hitting rock bottom twice is not something most people can survive, and certainly not me. Because now I’m staring at my bruised arm still full of needle holes and the final needle that proved my downfall still lying next to my body.

Sometimes there is a happy ending but obviously not for me.

The Man in the White Suit

So long I sat and stared at walls of sorrow, drowning in pools of bloodied sadness. I wondered when pain would end, when suffering would stop. I walked across fields of the unhappy, each wondering when their torment would be gone.

Together we walked, suffering in silence. Day after day, the pain became worse and more unbearable. We slipped into pools of quiet introspection filled with the sorrow of our lives and wondered to ourselves how we had come to this.

Life was like this for a long time, Bitterness seethed within us, until that one day when the man arrived. We called him the man in the white suit despite the fact he always worse khaki shorts with open toe leather sandals. His presence took our attention, for a brief moment some of us even smiled as we the humorous slogan on his shirt. It was the first time a lot of us had smiled in a long time.

He taught us an important lesson that day, as he gathered us around himself. We sat for a long time just staring at him then he said it, one sentence which changed it for all of us. He looked us all in the eyes one at a time then spoke “Be happy, forget all that is worrying you and just be happy.”

Boredom

A twitch, Looking to my left I see the remains of yesterday’s lunch. The remnants of a better day, now all I have is the glare of a screen illuminating pale skin, blankness staring out into my empty eyes. I draw my eyes away looking at the food stained clothes that adorn me. I resemble a man who has nothing left to live for.

Yet but a day ago I was happy and full of life, freshly shaved and properly dressed. What happened? What changed that leaves me now in this decrepit state? Why do I lay here, my thoughts rotting in an idle mind? Why does the stench of my unclean armpits plague my sense?

I sit and wonder these questions and as my mind begins to churn a weight lifts from my shoulders, my eyes show life and then the answer becomes clear, clear like the daylight which hides behind my closed blinds.

I am a victim of boredom, the monster that eats at the time of those with nothing to do. It has eaten the better part of my day and now encroaches upon my night.

Enough I say as I swat at it with the weapons in my possession. My arsenal is thought, and with every moment that I think of what this boredom has taken from me, I think of new things and very quickly the battle is won.

The boredom recedes to the darkest of corners, defeated upon this day. Defeated…but angered and as it stares from its corner in the recesses of my mind, It vows its vengeance tenfold.

When it comes again, I will be ready. So long as I do not let my mind grow dull.

So Many Ways

There are so many ways
I could show you I love you

So many ways
I am not permitted to do

So until then I express it with a simple
I love you

And one day
maybe
you will say
I love you too

What is Love?

What is love, or more importantly how do we recognise it? How do we look at a couple or look within ourselves and know true love from the imposter emotions. How does one notice the difference between lust for another person and true, deep love? How do we look into the eyes of our partner and know for sure that they love us? Can we tell this from looking into their eyes? Does love even exist?
Love does exist. Love is there always, around us, in so many forms and shapes. It occupies our lives from the simple whole hearted love for your favourite food, unconditional in every way to the complex love shared between a parent and child.
It is the most common thing around us yet also the most difficult to identify. It is an emotion envied by all others and they seek to mask themselves in its form. From a father who beats his child, mistaking his anger as ‘love’ to the wife who masks jealousy for her husbands infidelities as her love for him.
So how do we see love? I will tell you. Love is going out of your way to do a thing that will make that special person happy. It’s always being there for them even if it means sleeping with your phone at night. It’s staying up late talking to them even though you have to get up early the next morning. Love is every emotion being felt at once when you see that person for the first time in a long time. It’s feeling your heart break every time you say goodbye. It’s calling them 5 minutes after they leave to say you miss them. It is waking up in the morning and the first thought on your mind is to wish them a good morning. Love is not remembering the last time you stopped thinking about them and hoping you never stop. Love is embracing that person’s biggest flaw because they make it beautiful. It’s unconditional in every single way.
But the biggest fact about love is that it hurts, it hurts because you can’t believe you ever lived without them until now and wish you could have met them so long ago and then a sudden realisation that you are just happy that you can have them now and forever.
*exception*
Sometimes the pain never stops though…because you can’t have them and that is the worst pain of all. To love someone who cannot be yours and to wish everyday that they could be but if there is fairness in the world then…maybe…one day they can be.

The Internet Pt2

The new piece up on sarah’s site is up. Please do read if you are interested

http://theteencoachblog.com/is-flirting-on-the-web-ever-safe/

Inspiration Strikes

As the few readers i have may know i was away for the weekend. to be more specific i was at a LAN, it was as i aided in the packing up that inspiration struck. Expect a musical on lanning soon.