So Now You Know...

It was lonely for a day or so until one morning some man, more recently arrived than I, stopped me on the road.

“How do you get to West Egg village?” he asked helplessly.

I told him. And as I walked on I was lonely no longer. I was a guide, a pathfinder, an original settler. He had casually conferred on me the freedom of the neighborhood.

-F. Scott Fitzgerald, "The Great Gatsby"

NB: Ok, so the book sucked ass, but this passage really hit home when I read it...try and take it metaphorically, I'm sure you'll understand.

More Lyrics

A little bit dumbed down
A little more drowned out
Speak softly, child, be sweet
Don't run with aggression
& they won't rub you out!

And if suburbia wins the battle
Then suburbia wins the war
2.4 child norm
Warm suburbian home

[Come, little sheep, desperate little sheep, hungry/lost/angry little sheep - can't keep taking it out on me]

Here comes your saviour
White picket-fence teeth
Soul as pure as intentions (BLACK)
White lie infestatons
What lies beneath your smile?
Your pressed designer pants?
With your matching bag and shoes
Have you dirty little secrets?
I'm sure they're very few...

You & Your Tear-Away Morals

I realize a lot of what I write revolves around materialism, but honestly that's all I see in Amman - the dirt poor and the filthy rich - maybe it's just me...plus anyone 'middle-class' is just clinging to an image they're desperately trying to uphold...and not just the girls (but, yeah, in my mind it's mainly them)...God forbid any of them gets caught in less than their 100% fashionista clothes/make-up/hair...so here's some more shit to swallow:

Swimming in a sea of cold smiles
Their poison lipstick stains me
& I am not me...

You've seen me naked
Screaming my name
Now I am just another make-up stain
And no longer mine

Flash your pearly whites
Shake your silky hair
Be that perfect kind of fake
And appeal to the masses of YOU

Be that perfect sheep
We've all come to love
& be as dead as
We've come to expect

Excerpt (Pt. 2)

Pulling, pushing, shoving
Dragging, clawing - fighting...my way out
Another slump, another high
Another unsteady yesterday, today and tomorrow
Another reason to feel like I do
Or another excuse?

I hunger, I hurt, I bruise
I need, I want, I feel...like there's no tomorrow
Impending doom, impending disaster
Predicting the lack of a future - another 'to-be'
Predicting my sorry end
Or predicting nothing

And I want to feel loved
I want to feel full
I don't want to feel...like a used tissue
Ever again

Excerpt (Pt. 1)

Don't stand there making your excuses
You don't wear that colour well

Don't stare at me so stupidly
What the hell did you expect?

Gold! Hah!

As the pen taps the paper - not in a rush, but lethargic and waiting for a thought to arrive - my brain tries to firm and confirm one emotion, one word, but nothing arrives. Nervous about nothing and nothing to be nervous about, my nerves are unnerving - I need to let go.

A Comedic & Satiric View On University Life

.



You could put an insomniac to sleep
Bed him and bore him and kill him with speech
You absolute freak

The owls are drowsy
Your lecture is lousy
And I am in need of a pill

Cure me, sweet medicne!
Slide down my throat
Deep down to my bowels
And help me to float

Up and away
From this horrible man
From my marketing lecture
God help me, I ran!

And into the night
My glorious flight
Will save me this anguish I bear

Till the morrow, JU
Whence I shall return
For my english essay is due...

Gutterville, HKJ

More frustrated
Than alone
And I could really
Use a sign
Right now
I'm stuck between
What I think is
And what I wish
Could be
But I know deep down
Neither is real
And I need to find
Firm ground
To plant my shaky, unsure foot forward
And the other behind

This is when
I remember I'm lost
And the world reminds me
Of who I am
And where I belong
Which is where I am -
The fucking gutter again

Truth & Salvation (lyrics?)

(yet some more of my old stuff)

Shallow, indistinct
Thoughts run through my head
With them towards reality
Baby, I am led

Maybe I'm just crazy
Or, God forbid, I'm sane
But in the end, in their eyes
Maybe I am plain

They sell truth and salvation
With their make-up, hair and lies
With their new kinds of old*
Their silicone disguise

But I'm not ready
To comprimise what's me
Growing high on pretence
And shallow-nimity**

If you want to be part of
Their regurgitated shit
I can't follow you far
Won't play another ditz

They sell truth and salvation
With their lipstick, clothes and eyes
But I won't give up
The morals they despise

And if I can't be happy
Who is there to blame?
My "unbreakable morality",
Or them and their mind games?

It's a struggle I can't win
A comic catch twenty-two
With my beliefs I am lonely
But without them I am...who?

They sell truth and salvation
They'll cut you down to size
They sell that (real) friendship
We've come to idolize

I yell: "No more pretence!"
Yet I side with them still
A silent partner
But of my own free will?

And if this is my future
And there's no great escape
Why bother writing?
This isn't poetry...


*Busted! Regurgitated line :P
**Shallow + Anonimous as an adjective...yes, I do enjoy making up words! Jabberwocky much?

New Kind Of Old

(more of my 'teenage-years' prose)

Turn the TV down It spews that shit We neglect to notice Sounds just like us

And the girl next door Figured it out Be good, be careful You'll get by
Won't take long Forty-odd years She'll then know My life passed me by

That's what I call A new kind of old A new kind of ancient A new kind of me

Those raging clubbers Lycra-clad In corsets, in tights Well they're no better
Ladies and gents They're just as lost Just another kind Of new kind of old

Smug as you are Charm you may sell But the world will forget you So long! And farewell

The TV's still loud The girl next door Still good and wary The clubbers are bored

And I can't say That I don't share Their combined sense of "lost" Their new kind of old

Blast From The Past

I found a poem I wrote when I was 16...and re-wrote at 18...aah, the innocence...here it is with explanations of what i think I meant at the time (?) in brackets:

*Like God to an atheist
And the living undead
Love to a heart broken,
The voices in my head

**Voices I'm numb to
Voices I shun
Shouting the truth
The truth I turned from

Wake up to life slowly
And shed a large tear
I begin to feel loved
But also sense fear

I knew a little girl once
One who couldn't see
Resentment and sadness
But grew to see me

I'm the voices I'm numb to
I'm the truth I turn from
I'm that lost little girl
But with you*** I am one

Despite all that is^
But with all that can be^^
I am at peace now
With you I am free


(*Things that don't seem to exist??)
(**Possible Hetfield influence? LOL)
(***You: the better part of me? Some yin/yang reference?)
(^negative : present)
(^^positive : future)

Comedic Genius!

The Universe - some information to help you live in it.

(Point #4:)
Population: None.
It is known that there are an infinite number of worlds, simply because there is an infinite amount of space for them to be in. However, not every one of them is inhabited. Therefore, there must be a finite number of inhabited worlds. Any finite number divided by infinity is as near to nothing as makes no odds, so the average population of all the planets in the Universe can be said to be zero. From this it follows that the population of the whole Universe is also zero, and that any people that you may meet from time to time are merely the products of a deranged imagination.

----------------------

Recreational Impossibilities: Flying

There is an art, it says, or rather, a knack to flying. The knack lies in learning how to throw yourself at the ground and miss.
~
Most people fail to miss the ground, and if they are really trying properly, the likelihood is that they will fail to miss it fairly hard.


-Douglas Adams (excerpts from The Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy)

A Soliloquy (hell hath no fury...)

{[This isn't about men,
This is about women...
Who've abandoned true femininity
And replaced it with make-up
(how like an animal's colourful plumage!)...
What make YOU a woman??]}

Don't abuse my trust just because I'm willing to believe your lies...
Then again, under such circumstances, who's to blame you for your indiscretions? Not me (the feminists cry: "traitor!!")
God bless your complete lack of remorse - I feed on it, and it teaches me humility
That is what I'll make of this mess, because I am human, and because I adapt...

You and your sweet, wicked games
My stomach is squirming
My heart screams for help
As it turns to cold stone
Under your medusa spell

Release me!
No, I'll release myself,
Wriggle out of your grip
& hit the ground running
From your sadistic hell

Release me!
Or I'll find my own way out
Navigate your labyrinthic,
Mind-game emporium
Where you rule supreme,
Where I am but a pawn

Release me from this cruel world, where testosterone is an idol, estrogen a joke (a jester at best): a coward that clamours for constant attention, a special conection, contorted and calous, crying but smiling, defying creation, becoming a man.

(Silence...a cold wind blows...the calm before the storm)

The centre of our hurricane...this lull we're in...and over your faces passes a facade of indifference...and you'll all be so surprised, in shock of the storm...(chuckles) Such great acting! I applaud you!!

(Mocking) "It's a man's world" (laughter)
(Incredulous musing) You said that with pride?!?
*sigh* (recites with boredom:)
So you adapted to their world, you wore the clothes they wanted on your body (& on your soul) you did their dirty work (took on their roles) played a part, fit in their uncomfortable mold for you and forgot about your roots.
Are you happy where you are now?

(A storm brews: Maniacal laughter ensues! Wild eyes!)

HERE IT COMES!

When there's disbalance in the air, mother nature rejects it! She fights back, often over-zealously, and now there can be nothing left!

(BANG!)

(Screaming:) Well, is this what you wanted?! I can do nothing but laugh as I watch your world fall rapidly apart...hahahahahahahaha............




Oh, how theatrical of me :P

I LOVE YOU BUT, FRANKLY, YOU SUCK

it's because i can't be like you
it's because i feel
it's because i have a love in me that i know how to share
it's because i like to be held

and i ask how your day was
and i listen to what you have to say
and i'm honest and open and good
but i lie a little white lie not to hurt you
does that make me bad?

it's beacause i can share my innermost thoughts
it's because i'm not an empty vessel
it's because i want to know you're alive and well
it's because i genuinely like to hear that you are

and i don't mimic love - i do it
and i don't pretend it like you do
and when i ask you if you're ok
and you don't answer
i know to give you a hug

and when you tell me to forget about you
you know that i can't

it's because i'm human


and you still ask me why i hurt?

So Far...

Note to my lazy-ass self:
Nothing on this blog so far is new, most of it is rehashed old news I decided to put up to fill in some space...
New stuff, pictures and a custom design will follow!

A Solitary *sigh*

As I sit here bored
Alone amongst you all
I feel your eyes ignore
me; I slip into a lull
A trance, a hazy state
That brings me to my knees
Nodding back and forth
I fish out my little key
My sordid, sad way out
My solitary joy
The 'poetry' I write

Ode To An Asshole

I've never seen someone so determined
To bore me into a trance-like state,
My head feels heavy - the blood cells race
Against the rythm of my nod,
To bring me back to reality
(by defying the laws of gravity!)
To wake me from my slumber by bouncing back to LIFE.
Now I am awake
And now I barely hear your voice
Put me back into my lethargic state.
My head bows low
- and lower, lower still - until
I can barely focus
But the blood rushes down
Then comes flooding back
- the shock of its momentum
Snaps me into re-animation
But do I feel alive?
No.
I don't think so.
Just hypnotize me with your speech
And the cycle will repeat...

Yo-u're C-ut-ting U-p

I've never shared my writing with someone who holds any level of my interest (or an emotional connection, ftm)...How can I feel so godAWFUL and empty when there's nothing wrong?
Am I lying to myself...the absence of the question mark, oh so powerfully poignant and purposeful.It always feels like I'm using someone else's words(who?)Writing so much to find that little jewel; that 'it' that puts everything into perspective: perhaps it takes a freudian slip to make sense of all of this...but where is it?
Ouch! That pang! No, I wish it was a pang, that would mean it was an obvious and sharp pain; would make it defined when clearly it's not. It's a thud. A heavy lump (at best) and it's shapeless and oozing and flat and an annoyance...that itch I can't scratch...
Because it takes so much more than a few minutes, a few weak sentences to figure out what's wrong - no matter how poignant the lyric, line or stanza. It takes work to set this straight, and it'll take more than a note to figure this one out...

Have you ever given up so completely?
I haven't.
I've bled raw emotion,
i've pulled down my walls
& I've let go of inhibitions
But to give up?
To hit rock bottom?
That's a step I'm uneasy, unwilling and perhaps even unconvinced of taking;
And why should I want to?

Pretty Bullshit (This World Is Bullshit)

Some people are buried under so much pretence, it's very hard to find the message they're trying to put accross (if, indeed, there is one)...it makes you think twice about how much effort you're putting into 'just being yourself' - but isn't that effort, in essence, the driving force behind the pretenceyou pretend not to hide behind?!?
Hiding behind an air of indifference...the ridiculous contradiction here is that that same indifference is exemplified through a facade of excited recognition of another person of your status and up to your standards...But what standards are those? What part of your definition of a good friend, or even just a decent person, is inclusive of the everlasting importance of honesty...dignity...self-respect...(outward respect, for heaven's sake)...esteem...No! But what of the everlasting importance of outward appearance?! Self-importance?! Connections?! By all means, don't leave those things out!I'm drowning here...
& I'm liking it...
Save me?

Hypocrisy, Irony and Redundancy: My Favourite Tools

You'll find that I am the finest specimen of hypocrisy you'll ever meet - but what makes hypocrisy such a negative concept? Isn't it human nature? Can't you see the beauty in it? At the end of the day you know one thing for sure: nothing's black and white. There is no perfect right and utter wrong.

Wait - even in faith?

Yes! Even in faith! After all, isn't one's level of faith dependant on how they perceive the universe (and everything as one)? And doesn't that view of the universe change with time? It's not fixed. Nothing is. (Who was it who said the only constant is change?)

Maybe I have a twisted view of beauty...but there really is a beauty in the in-between (a "beauty of grey" to quote LIVE)...

This is my cut-and-paste version of what the universe has spoken.

(The Plagiarist and The Originator: this is me)

This is a plea to myself to wake up and smell the coffee.
This is my self-wake-up-call.
How many times do I have to say "wake up" before I'll wake the fuck up already?
WAKE UP!!

Not Waving But Drowning

Nobody heard him, the dead man,
But still he lay moaning:
I was much further out than you thought
And not waving but drowning.
Poor chap, he always loved larking
And now he's dead
It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way,
They said.
Oh, no no no, it was too cold always
(Still the dead one lay moaning)
I was much too far out all my life
And not waving but drowning.

-Stevie Smith