The train yard

The train yard sang it's blues again tonight, it sounded like a bird trying to wake up the sun. Anyway, the cold is still cold and blues are even bluer especially when they're being sung from the bottom of the gut of a 10 ton hammer. It pounds and strikes you down as soon as you see the city lights shine up and take over your irises. sink or swim you decide; whether or not you feel the reprisal and disgust. "Oh look to the sky! Look at the stars and see them for the real diamonds they are! Not the rocks you think you deserve around your wrists and neck. They are nothing but chains...shackles if it were, so stop being a slave in the gutter of the existence you seem to call a life! Reach up to the sky and don't look back on your past lovers, the diamonds that are painted all over the sky are yours!"
The fool by the tracks, chastises me again with his view for a positive well being. I find nothing more comforting than the rolling of old thunder, when I put my head to the sleepers and feel the passion in the rocks that line the roads. "Calm thyself, tonight we are nothing and tomorrow morning we will be even less if the sun carries on shining".
I catch my breath. "Hey you, yeah you...the one with the curly hair!" she said. I look around to see nothing but green and trees. And definitely, no girl. "Stop trying to see me and see me" she howls, but again I am lost within the everglades and the canopy of the emerald tent that doesn't block out the sun but merely shades it from the common eye, so the diamonds that sit in patiently in one's school of thought keep clarity. I look down to the grass and see a seldom sycamore seed, lying on it's back. I extend out my arm and pose my fingers; with an almighty exhalement i send the sycamore seed flying into the forest sky, oh how it rotates and gyrates like the hips of a past lover, dancing carelessly into the night time and slowly into the morning. "There you go, all you need is a little more light in your life. To you, life just seems just like cleaning the kitchen; you have to do it but you only rarely feel any appreciation for it."
By this time, I had no idea where this dialect was being transmitted from. I bring my knife to arms and call out "why do you not choose to show you're face unto my eyes? are my eyes not worthy to see what I long to see at this given moment?"
"Maybe." she said.
"Maybe you need to stop seeing what you think you know and start seeing what you really need to? I know that your heart longs for nothing more than the love of an enemy, but when your love is needed to be shared you feel nothing but a shallow sense of pride that eats away at you like an apple."
I shut my eyes to see, that the train yard is back upon me. I look beyond the words that I see in front of my eyes

Sleeping or Speaking?

Lately I don't know where I have been, and lately I'm not sure if i have been actually speaking or not. The words reverberate around my ears and through my seamless empty head, but do they actually leave my mouth? do they actually grace other people's ears? I think it's because I induce artificial night upon myself when I really should be opening my mind as well as my window to all around me; but why though? I feel pretty happy sitting in my silence that I'm not sure that actually exists or not. When I dream it feels like someone is standing on my throat, but this feeling is a strange sensation, it feels like I am drowning in my REM and as the my eyes role back into my head, my tongue is free and runs like a stallion through feels of flowers and rape. But once again, am I actually speaking? or am I sleeping. Am I still thinking about the times I used to run with your crowd before you even knew their names? Or am I still finding my self in this medium of slumbering sickness as an alternative to absolute health? Maybe I should just keep my gold in my heart, and my diamonds in my mind. Maybe this why I still can not speak of my trapped slumber? The diamonds on my mind may serve as fruit i wish to pick from my labour but is my labour really worth the time and effort I bestow upon it? This always happens, like a death-wish a wise man makes for the love of his brother; and once again my arteries are open, unlike my mind.

...the reaper took his breath away

As recently I have been thinking alot about dropping out of university. The nights spent awake doing work, the early morning that consist of going to lectures that I fall asleep in anyway and being so broke that I have to eat cans of tuna or baked beans for dinner don't really seem worth it. Looking at both of my bank accounts, I seem to be disgustingly broke and having to deal with that for another 3 years doesn't seem attractive to me.

Then again, getting a job seems to be harder than I thought; but something that disappointed me today was the fact that my flat mate went out for one day came back with a job whereas I have been searching for literally months. It just makes me think, am I really that unemployable?

In other news, my mum doesn't shut the fuck up all she does is moan at me about shit I don't want to hear just makes me think...do I really want to go back home for easter? Let alone summer.

Oh well I'll shut up before I sound like a total fagario. Godspeed xo

Story of the seagul

I wrote this about a dream I had, so to whomever reads this I hope you enjoy it.

The streets are all dead; the pavement no longer sings the song that made it's life all that much more worth living; it just sounds like running water against a metal sink, so mundane and yet so rabid in it's actions. oh seagull, for now I'll let you take my breath away. I'll let you tell me the lie that you sell to same streets that you steal for from the sea the night before. The seagull's mother looks at me and says "it makes the days go by and makes the nights seem less long; but the blackness I carry on my feeble back makes me out to be more of a vulture than I actually am."
I opened my mouth and so did she, and the funeral procession that was going on down here gullet reminded me of the conflict I have with the daytime. The look on her face was of deep disappointment. She looks at my tired and weary eyes and tells me that whether it be love or whether it be death or whether it be loneliness. Whatever morbid monstrosity that my God wishes to bestow upon my life; my lungs will pump the same static breath. She's asks about my irregular cardiac cycle; I reply to her "As regards to my heart, it beats due to its lack of passion for any satisfaction of any life or loss, and it doesn't break from lack of love...oh no, it breaks because of thieves like you wanting to claim it for yourself, who have less passion that I do! so I'll wait here just as long as you , until that light in the sky ends and when I'm graced again by my mother and maker"
Her daughter flies away after my most recent diastole. Oh I did love her, but my love was like the love of a wolf; no one really seems to understand it, or appreciate it but at the end of systole love is love, and it's not easily come by. I grasped the seagull's mother with my hand and whispered; "I'll find your daughter and I'll give her a name that everyone in this fucking sea will know by the time I'm done with her. I'll make sure that every sailor is praying before they sleep so that they can see the winged harlot that your beloved daughter really is".
Once again, the disappointment hung from her face like the Sun in the evenings when I look out from out my window. She tries to reply but I know what she felt, and all she left me with was "we're all dead, everyone around us is dead your eyes are too weak to see it and maybe you should just stop thinking about the heart that beats and breaks within your ribcage and maybe look after the heart that was trusted to you by another; oh I've seen enough here I've travelled this shore many times and I have never seen such penitent as I see in you. Pick yourself up, out of the hole you've dug for yourself because if you want to die like an outlawed beast in it's cave then you're going the right away about it."
With the coming of the night It was time I slept and considered what I had felt, this cave is no longer my protection, only my solitude; and in my solitude I have my peace with the medium between sleep and of death.

i'm sorry, but sorry doesn't do it for me anymore.

So far today I have spent the whole day in bed, and I have watched 2 pokemon films and Kiki's delivery service. Nothing much has changed, I'm starting to realise that being a student isn't as amazing as I thought it would be, but then again thats only because I can't seem to get a job anywhere.

In other news, I passed one of the exams I was scared about failing and now I feel as if I should go and celebrate by buying myself a subway or a cornish pasty. Right now, I'm still in bed and listening to This Will Destroy You. I should really get up and sort my life out. Godspeed xo

today

was the worst day ever.

- i missed my lab that i was looking forward to going to
- i ran out of mayonaise
- i went to some shitty club expecting to be amazing music, turns out i wasted money i don't have on over priced drinks
- i came home and got told i have to pay £35 for a diffuser on a kitchen light that costs like £6.45

fml. godspeed xo

untitled.

Today, I don't know what's going on. I got woken up at 5:30am by a fire alarm and I wasn't allowed back into my room until around 6:30 and if I remember correctly iI was having quite an awswome dream too.

Also it turns out, I didn't get the job I thought I had which fucking sucks, but I guess I won't let it get me down. Tonight is also carnage night, but I don't think I can be bothered to go the same clubs I go to every night don't really seem that good anymore. Speaking of that though I went to Little Johnny Russell's last night which was awesome.

Right now I'm all about:

Adobe CS3 Flash
Frou Frou
Rice
Glasses of Water
Kettle Vegetable Chips
Logbooks.

Anyway I should really do something productive like go to sleep or do some work. Godspeed xo