Wednesday 6 July 2011

wankstain bolloking cunt face bastard shit.

i love how i feel like i die inside on a day to day basis

*thumbs up*

Tuesday 28 June 2011

key to happiness

okay, so im a little annoyed/agitated, so this may seem irrational, or it may seem like a breakthrough?

a new rule i discovered, why do we all expect so much out of eachother?! it is through this blind faith that we are all perfect and will know what to say or when to stop or how to act that we feel most of our disappointment.
we should all learn our lesson each time the same little mental slap from someone imprints themselves on our emotions.
its not so much 'letting you down' as just not raising to the expectations i had hoped you would reach?

GR: stop expecting more from people then they can realistically achieve.
if we all did this, we could get by without the unneccassary pain of dissapointment.

Saturday 18 June 2011

Sunday 5 June 2011

the grey cement pavement slabs of reality

its june. five days in to be precise.
no one told me.

life is just passing me by, without the curtosey of even waving goodbye..





Wednesday 25 May 2011

adoration



i like how ugly it is.

failed mission.

fuck the Grammy artists, fuck the Nobel prize winners.
fuck the high standing politicians. fuck the practised philosophers.
fuck the tv presenters. fuck the producers and their directors.
fuck the models. fuck the designers who use them.
fuck the girl on facebook with 166 picture likes.
fuck the guy who's fucking her.

bitter my dear?.. the feeling of inadequacy is a bitch

Tuesday 17 May 2011

idyllic/idiotic

fuck it im going to barcelona...
well, if i had the money. of course i dont, so i'll just procrastinate a bit more about the life i wish i could have, whilst slowly destorying my chance of getting it.
oh the fucking irony.

Sunday 24 April 2011

maybe

i just need to return to civilisation and accept the facts.

Thursday 21 April 2011

Monday 11 April 2011

ultimate competition

i may be suffering paranoia.

but walking out in public you involve yourself in a stranger cometition. this may sound stupid, or you might know exactly what i mean. which of you is the most successful stranger? it is completely vein, almost entirly based on looks/clothing/possesions/figure, but then that extra something im still struggling to work out, it lies somewhere between confidence and uncaring, if the stranger holds this, they win, instantly.

Thursday 31 March 2011

listlessness

if my thoughts could be projected onto a screen it would be continuous lists; lists of what homework i need to do, lists of things i need to pay for, lists of jobs i could apply for, lists of jobs that turned me down, lists of things i want to tell people, lists of people i cant trust, lists of the food i've eaten, lists of music that needs to go onto my ipod. i could go on, but there's no point, this post is just becoming another list. and i think i have enough of them going right now for someone slightly obsession compulsive, my head is a fucking mess... i can't find my devil's spoke

Tuesday 8 March 2011

psychodynamic approach

Freud insulted people, or at least that's the impression they give. Of course you are going to be slightly insulted by the man who claims you had sexual feeling towards your mother, hating your father for standing in the way of your relationship, turning into the fear that a confrontation will leave you castrated.
but more then anything i think people feared Freud. Feared the possibility that there is way more to our minds then we can ever control or understand.
I know that's the reason i can't stand my psychology lessons at the moment. what if this man is right? what if dreams were repressed desires and thoughts? what if I'm exhibiting classic denial and there's no way i can stop it? what if my anal retentive characters will stick with me forever?

maybe gaining insight to the mind isn't such a good thing.
i can't help but analyse everything i do now. its like a conditioned paranoia

Thursday 3 March 2011

Wednesday 2 March 2011

Sunday 27 February 2011

speed

when you're stuck in on a sunday afternoon, trying to muster enough motivation to get some work done that could have been done multiple occasions throughout the holiday, it would not seem as though time is passing with any haste at all. rather, longing out every second in an excruciating slowness that makes me want to manually wind my clock forwards.
however, give it five seconds of thinking over the last month and you quickly realise how time is speeding around on it's constant loop, going so fast the thought makes me simultaneously panicked and dizzy.
the occurrences of this month make me so happy that i write this with a sickening idiot grin on my face, but the idea that change seems to escalate at the moment, i actually get scared.
and then once over the 'reminiscing' i get so pissed off with myself. my need to think things over so bloody much is completely uncontrollable, im as close to going with the flow as i am with accepting the constant wariness i live in.
yeah time moves quickly atm, fucking suck it up emma. what are you even complaining about?!

Thursday 20 January 2011

neutral tones

i love him because he made it so hard for the world to understand him. he didn't write his poems immaculately, trying to force onto the world his views. it is simply a confused man putting pen to paper, and doing so beautifully.
who gives a shit if he contrdicts himself, and dont you dare call him a 'miserable bastard'. who the hell has a straight mind? and who the hell doesn't get bitter about reality.
he didnt give a shit that the world didn't want to see this side to romance, he put it out there anyway. pen to paper, a stream of thoughts from a man trying to understand the world.


p.s. i missed you, it's only been two weeks physically, but i have missed us for months.

Sunday 16 January 2011

so close, yet


1 month, 12 days

well its been a while. not since i've written, my draft box is cluttered with the most trivial of complaints, observations and what not. i look back on them with a tragic sigh, as i hit the wall of shame when i realise how wrapped up in my own life i get. its enough to make you sick.
its like when you're in a exam, the time starts 'right gentlemen, and ladies, you may begin', your head goes down and the world becomes irrelevant, and your mind hones in on all the things you laughed at in class, words like 'flagellum' suddenly become crucial for the next hour and fifteen minutes.
and then you're asked to put the pencil down, and you return to the world you left behind, almost dazed as if you were expecting a welcome back.
in the time im writing, my head goes down and it might not resurface to reality for another half hour. suddenly all that really matters is what im writing, who's reading it and how to get rid of the bloody dusk underneath my keyboard.