Saturday 19 January 2013

176. A Day In The Life...


The day starts. It is 06:00. You press “snooze” for a short while longer.

06:09; It goes again... you continue this for a further 27 minutes.

06:36.

You wake up, with realization that nothing has changed. But your hair. It's upright, the same as your genitals. Why did you drink so much last night? Morning wood, through the uncomplicated consumption of alcohol.

You thought it would be fine.

You rouse. Make your way over the clothes, and through the cobwebs in your own head. Eventually, standing over the toilet. You try to think of the Spanish word for this, from your schooling days. It evades you.

Upon finishing, you tip your head over the bath, and under the shower cubicle. You realise that it is not switched on, and pull your head back, pull the drawstring, knock on the switch.
Whilst washing, you think of the complications occurred over the last few months, and indeed, in the same bath. It's going to be one of those days.

Once dried, you notice you need a brush, or that pink comb, upon the mantle, downstairs. A rake by the fingers shall suffice. What's it matter? It's only another day. Nothing will happen today. No-one shall notice. You think twice.

“Nah”.

You trawl your way back into the bedroom. Again, avoiding the clothes. You perch yourself on the end of the bed; your arse's indent in indelibly imprinted upon this part. – fire away a few messages on the internet. No thought in it.

Roll up 6 cigarettes; Drum tobacco, Swan filters and Rizla silver, as is the standard for your part time days.

It's now 07:00. Your late. You should have been out the house no later than ten-to. You needed to get the Tram at this time. You panic.

You are offered a lift. Kevin does so. He drives you to work. You notice the stupid amount of snow littering the roads and pavements. You think that you are glad that you didn't walk to the tram. Half way there, you realise that you have forgot your security pass.

“Fuck”, you think. You eventually shout it out loud, so as to try and draw attention from Kevin.

“What's wrong?”

“I forgot my pass”.

“Can you still get in?”

“Yeah, I'll be fine, just gotta wait for someone I know”.

Alice sees you, as you walk past the gates. You've known her for about a year. You made friends through a friend. All at work. Nothing untoward. She shouts at you, through the railings.
You have your MP3 player on – Listening to your own music. A few weeks ago, you abandoned your old persona. You were bored with him. Came upon a fun name that you thought would raise intrigue. It's just a shame that the music isn't the same. Whilst you are advancing, it's not enough to draw any kind of interest.

“What?” You shout.

All you hear is something. Like a distant mumbling. You still don't catch it, and you laugh, confused. If it wasn't for your left ear being partially deaf, or the fact that you are 50 foot away, you may have heard her. You still feign politeness, and say goodbye.

Standing outside the railings, you continue with the music. You think it isn't all that bad, but still not as good as it could be. You consider what could be done, whilst lighting a cigarette.
You fall in and out of what you are thinking. The cold snaps at your heels. You wonder what is nagging at you. You look for Helene  She's usually around at this time of day – She will let you in. It's now around 07:40. You begin at eight.

Making your way toward the gates, you think that maybe something isn't right. You remember that you don't have your card, and you shall have to wait. Your slipping on the ice. After only seconds of waiting, Abdul shows up and lets you in.
He lets you through all the doors.

“You going to explain this to somebody?”

“Yeah, yeah”.

You won't.

Get up to your floor, and you see Ryan on the floor. You tell him of your creative input of the last two days; Sunday and Monday – you've hand-crafted 5 tracks over these two days. Your impressed with yourself, as he should be.
You ask him what's going on, and he explains about the management wanting to sit with him. You sympathise, but explain that all will be fine. Your older than him, and more world wise, but he is your superior. As work has not officially began, you ask him if he would like to listen to the music that you have done.

“Yeah, I were listening to Black Sabbath, earlier”

You sit there, in whimsical amusement. You wonder how he knows Black Sabbath. He's a fan of UK Reggae.

He remembers - “No, it was Sabbath Latin – I like that”
“Well, I've done a redux of that”.

You realise that he won't know what that means. You just plug him into the ear phones, and let it rip. You explain that some of it isn't your greatest.
Whether through friendship, or just to stay on your good side, he compliments your music.

“I'm not just saying this, but you have got better”, precedes “There's SINGING on this one?!”

You laugh. Think of making an insidious remark, but think better of it. He's already told you in the past that he doesn't know what to say, with regards to troubles at home. You know he tries his best. Unfortunately, it doesn't work for you. Your friendship has been dwindling for some time. Sea rápido o esté muerto.

Something is mentioned in the ilk of “roll on the weekend”. Your still trying to wake up. You didn't wash this morning, didn't feel up to doing it, and, if truth be told, your washed your hair, so it was washed, nonetheless.

You make a throw-away comment; “Fuck that, roll on 16 days – Zurich!”.

A voice appears from your left hand side.

“Zurich?”

It's Helene  You look at her, her face a porcelain body disappearing behind a column of what you've always thought to be; asbestos. That columns' always been in your way.

“Yeah, it's the end of this month”, you continue exchanging information between one another, seemingly like curve-balls, around the column.

“Oh, I didn't think that it was so soon?”

“Yes”.

The last word kills the conversation dead. You scramble in your head to continue the conversation, but, as ever, your mind is dry. As is your throat. You can't go on.

Taking a look at the clock, it's now 07:55; Alan should be in soon – he's working the same shift as you. Not technically the same shift – you finish somewhat earlier than he, as you have to be home early to tend to the ensuing confusion there. No sooner had you thought this, he's there.
Exchanging pleasantries, you decide to get yourself in for work, there's a somewhat under-awing login system to contend with, and as you serve a dual purpose at work, you need to spend half of the day on emails for one department, and the other half on another.

You trawl through the emails, and have a few jokes with Alan. There's something about him that you can't quite put your finger on. You were told by Helene a few weeks back (it may have even been months, but you decide to forget), that she asked him for your number. She told you that he said that he didn't have it, and this left you reeling.
You knew for a fact that he had the information back in November – he called you and text you on the day. Ryan gave him your number. You were out with Sarah. A friend of a few months, but under awe of, and a person that you enjoyed the company of.
Previous conversations had led you to believe that Helene and Alan had had sex together, though this could never be proven. You always thought that he was being protective of her, for no apparent reason. Either that, or the green eyed eyed monster setted in, and pride was damaged when she asked him for it. Upon learning it, you realised that there was no actual way of finding out. You would never ask. It's not your business.

Thursday 10 January 2013

175. The End

You sit here wondering why you are so obscured from any more truth than I have revealed.

The truth is I have no answers. I just merely write things for you to read and hopefully enjoy. I am but a normal person who smokes fags, gets drunk and interoperates life around him as he sees fit. This is the real me.

I can never absolve you of you problems, but these "tracks"; for want of a better word, described my moods during 2006 up until mid-era 2012. I suggest you look up my other blogs (posts) if you like. It's the same type of thing... just another thing to blame life upon... There is 2012 and a new 2013 flavour.

Thanks for taking a look though. If anything I've realised I have roughly 20 followers per post, so it would be nice to expand upon that. I want to carry on writing. If you still look then I'll carry on writing. You guys mean a lot to me, as you listen and seem to look without review. I can live with that.

I feel like a version of REM (the band) in that I go unnoticed but yet still get recognition of my followers. I can't ask any more than that. Thank you again, and good night, on this; the 10th January, 2013 - There are plenty more blogs to come.

174. Zombie


I wasn't sure if I'd been here before
But now I know my delusion
Alcohol is my true life whore.
Creating false illusion.
The drugs the Princes put me on
Have been popped like candy.
Soon enough I'll feel withdrawn
I'll be frail and needy.

I get caught up in my own little world
And my brain slowly begins to swirl
Like the Guitars of the 90's
I'm living like a zombie...
Zombie
Zombie......

I know when I've been and I've came
The places around
From the stray thoughts in my brain
My minds abound to come through somehow
This whole God delusion is obscene
Whilst I've tried and I've sinned
The Place I loved
Is far from here.

I get caught up in my own little world
And my brain slowly begins to swirl
Like the Guitars of the 90's
I'm living like a zombie...
Zombie
Zombie......

Zombie Mother-fucker!

I'm like a zombie
Zombie
Zombie
Zombie Mother-fucker!

173. Youthism


Does anyone know the state?
Does anyone-one know what's on my plate?
Can anyone tell me the truth in knowing?
Can you tell me why my pants are showing?

Youth-ism.
Youth-ism.
Escapism.
Mechanism.

Why do birds fly?
How is there a sky?
Why do planes not crash more often?
How can you make love more softer?

Yer aged face is all over the place
It falls down to the floor
And it shall never return
To the glories so far gone.
Crawl into your skin
Call up your next of kin
Cremation is sure to fulfil
The look of your face is enough to kill.

I hate the weather
Til the end of never
Dating back home to the dawn of man
Life makes no sense, but I'll make what I can.

Youth-ism.
Youth-ism.
Escapism.
Mechanism.

Like me, you unknown
Like me, you show
Like me, your own morals
Like me, Eating leather coral
Through the fires of romance
The world it turns and the ogres wage a war dance
The pin pricked skin of your own sins
Shall never be subdued as they're bound with super glue.

Like me.
Like me.
Like me.
Like.
Like Me.

Piss - ready gears turning in my mind
They are unknown to the modern grind
WD-40 Tells an old story
Of old un's getting abortions.

Youth-ism.
Youth-ism.
Escapism.
Mechanism.

Abortion
Abortion
Abortion
Abortion

Distortion.

172. Youthful Solitude


Another day and another lover
Under the covers we withheld
Our love for one-another
The epic struggle of life
For what else?

The life shall come ad love shall pass
The world shall live
And yet I come to imagine
The truth your only 15.
Age of consent forbidden - I reclaim my inhibitions.

I was drinkin' them demons away from the start
The hole in heart felt
As though the world was turnin'
And I held in my mind
The imagination of youthful solitude.

You suspended my belief to the point of no return
Premature, in my pants,
You are one in a million.
I can't wait to get you home
Drugged up and fulla alcohol.

Then I'll envisage in my filthy mind
The truth of my own beliefs.
I shall stand and I shall count.
This last lady shall be
Withheld.

I was drinkin' them demons away from the start
The hole in heart felt
As though the world was turnin'
And I held in my mind
The imagination of youthful solitude.

You were my baby-bird
You were my sweet release.
You jumped ship
How I wish
You were on my hips.

I was drinkin' them demons away from the start
The hole in heart felt
As though the world was turnin'
And I held in my mind
The imagination of youthful solitude.

So pick me up some bottles of booze
The youthfulness purveyed in you
Shall be noted
There's a new skirt in town
The world devoted.

You can play your shitty assed tunes.
So long as I can come into that
Shitty ass
Of my sweet lord.
Oh God!

You were my baby-bird
You were my sweet release.
You jumped ship
How I wish
You were on my hips.

I was drinkin' them demons away from the start
The hole in heart felt
As though the world was turnin'
And I held in my mind
The imagination of youthful solitude.

171. You give me Life to Breathe


Only your words can bring me from pain
And only yourself can help me refrain
From the days all being to hours
And the frown on my face subsides
You know the thing we had
Oh no, my love, it never dies.
Time changes most things in the world
But to me you never change
Oh you still have me absorbed.
The feelings that rekindle
Chills me to my bones
Or raises me up
To the top of that pedestal.
Oh Only you can't see...

So lay your love on me
Like a sweet symphony
You give me life to breathe
With you, only in time we'll see.

So bring me right on down
Underwater; I can't drown
Give me life to breathe
Spend your time with me.

And yet I've awoken, these year old blues
And all I want is to spend my time with you
But the minutes all go so quickly
Like days gone in the past
I can only hope that this thing will last
As teenagers the world all stood it's ground
And now we suffer silently, gently unwound.
The new life that we're living
Has made us feel so unwell
It's like living in our own Private Hell.
So come on baby
And feel it with me;
You're the supernova in my eyes
I cannot even see...

So lay your love on me
Like a sweet symphony
You give me life to breathe
With you, only in time we'll see.

So bring me right on down
Underwater; I can't drown
Give me life to breathe
Spend your time with me.

And when we look back.....
The past it seemed so dark...
And yet the future...
Is the hardest part....

170. Whore


Be still my bleeding heart
Another promise of stolen thoughts
Your will is to decimate
My will is to procreate
Within our own broken dreams
Your life is ripped at the seams
Mine own holds within
What was once ripped at the seams.

Daydream my fucked up heart
I'll begin again from the start.
A new name; a new frontier.
Fucking all that I hold dear.

Hold...
Why don't you hold yourself.

Hold...
Why don't you....

Why don't you...
Why don't you hold yourself?

For mutual comfort
C'mon best foot abound...
It's all fucked up my dear
Like me on Mescaline.
My life was so fucked up.
Day dream all life in a cup.
Watching all day porn
Woah girl, what've I become?

Spay....

C'mon and spay....

Why don't you?...

Come on and spay yourself?

For your the fuck
And not me.
Making life a misery
I tried to co-operate you see -
But you boned me
Like I did you without a sheathe!
So come on, come now, come dear -
Say what I wanna hear and why don't you...

Squeeze...
Why don't you squeeze yourself.

Squeeze...
Why don't you....

Why don't you...
Why don't you squeeze yourself?

You fucking Whore!