Fuck your deadlines. Fuck your editors. Fuck friends. Fuck responsibility. Fuck living long. Fuck getting up in the morning. Fuck writing the big things. The wine bottle is rising from between your legs like a dark-glassed lighthouse and you laugh, your teeth slop red-black of wine and crooked smile.
With late winter comes spiders in your synapses; skittering down brain tubes to eat at happiness, ideas, sex drive, energy, ambition, passion—youth gone shriveled and frozen like rock gravel crunching beneath your sneakers and you’re walking to that mine that killed your great-grandfather, black-lunged Pennsylvania coal mine, its mouth empty and fanged, and its throat runs straight down. Shadowed reapers crouch on wheelbarrowed mine tracks or lie lurking in mine cars, phantom great-grandfathers, black-eyed, Slavic, square-faced, gray-haired, beckoning with crook of finger saying, “Have a drink with me, kid. What’s taken you so long?”
She goes distant in January.
“You haven’t been happy in months,” she says.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you say.
“I feel like a bird in a cage,” she says.
“Nothing I once loved makes me happy anymore,” you say.
“You need to go to the doctor,” she says.
“I feel like I’m losing it,” you say.
“We need to get out of this city,” she says.
“I feel like I’ve got a demon in my head,” you say.
“What do you need me for anymore?” she says.
“I feel like I’m already dead,” you say.
“You’re so selfish,” she says.
“Don’t leave me,” you say.
“I feel like getting in a car and driving away,” she says.
Don’t leave me, don’t leave me, you don’t leave me, don’t you leave me, don’t leave.
At night, at clubs and bars, you drink with friends. They buy you drinks because your name is in the magazines they read. But she’s off with the older kids across the club, in the back of the bar, the ones who’ve figured it out. While you seek the dark spots and rotting, doomed faces destined to grow old and sit in hospital beds connected to tubes and wires, yellow piss bags, sludged shit, coughing a paint can rattle, wondering if it was worth it and whether they could’ve done better.You go home and drink more. Drink ‘til everything goes muffled and warm and good and you sing to yourself and rock happy and alone on the couch.
Then comes chill of dawn with light over purple hills to the east and you pull the covers back up; your face is a swollen mess.
With spring comes a thaw of her heart. She’s driving you to go wild, to be good and be crazy. You’re fighting it though, eating the pills Dr. Wren gave you, but faking happy every night. She knows it’s not working. And you read religious texts—the Bible, Koran or fictionalised tales of End Times, Thich Nhat Hanh, giddy Buddhist koans, Krishna, book of Mormon, the Torah.
You look for something to lead you from the dark. You wear the pants and sweaters and shirts of an old man. You shake your pill bottle and toss it in your jacket pocket. Your muscles fade and flesh falls off the bone, drops like fruit gone to rot.
She tries one last time, singing the old songs, singing, “Come away with me. I’ve already quit that job. We’ll finish off the bottle and the agaves too. Take a look around; everybody is sad as you. All we need are Dos Gusanos this afternoon” and you’re fading fast.
You hold her hand as you walk past 7-11 and say, “Okay, okay sorry, so selfish, let’s go, okay let’s go. Let’s just go, okay, okay.”
June 2013
4 posts
Q And Not U- Kiss Distinctly American
May 2013
16 posts
So I sliced the end of my thumb off today at work cutting limes…that was a brilliant way to start a shift…
Me and J fell asleep on our friend’s couch, curled up around each other last night, sometimes I wish I just had the courage to ask her out.
bmmn:
Empire! Empire! (I Was a Lonely Estate) - Rally the Troops! (Alternate 2013 Version)
One of the best songs I’ve heard all year.
It’s okay to hate me, I hate myself too. If I ran away I would only miss you.
But, if it means your happiness, if running’s what it takes, then I hope you see forever’s more than just mistakes.
WHY? - The hollows
April 2013
10 posts
I need to stop going on staff night outs, getting drunk and kissing the girls I work with. It happened again last night, like the fourth girl in the company. And as much as I clearly like these girls, even if it’s just at that precise moment, I don’t like being the centre of work gossip. I just want to go out, kiss pretty girls and then for everyone to let it be.
In related thoughts she stayed at mine, and we didn’t do anything. Just kissed and smoked some ciggies and watched tv. And then we fell asleep spooning and she wouldn’t let go of my hand and when I went to turn off my laptop she just told me to not bother and to hold her…and we slept all night like that. If anything it’s just reminded me how much I miss sleeping next to someone.
“In Tory Britain, as the cuts kick in, even the most peaceful protests are put down as a warning to the rest of us. Last November, Bethan Tichborne, a 28-year-old teaching assistant, appeared at a public event in Oxfordshire and calmly told David Cameron that he had “blood on his hands”. She was referring to the prime minister’s decision to take away vital social support from people with disabilities, a policy that has already cost lives. Tichborne was grabbed, tackled to the ground and restrained during her arrest, as Cameron continued to speak: “The police officers on top of me either couldn’t or wouldn’t hear me,” she wrote on her blog. “I was crying and bleeding, I couldn’t properly breathe.”. Two weeks ago she was convicted of causing “harassment, alarm and distress” and fined more than a month’s wages. The message is clear: whether or not a protest is peaceful and legal is entirely up to the police and judiciary to decide, so if you want to play it safe, stay at home and sign a petition.”
— “Where are the activists as austerity bites? They have been beaten back.” — The Guardian (via rememberwhenyoutried)
Now my buzz is goin`, I need to re-up on reality
Can`t let them see me weak, I need to find something
Is there any possibility that everyone feels like me?
So, not going to lie, I am generally a bit weary of Snoop’s whole rasta-reincarnation thing. But man, I do love this song!
That awkward moment when the girl you like, and spent all of Monday night kissing, doesn’t text you back…
I feel the need to publicly thank my adorable housemate Becca (whom you all should follow, even if she doesn’t post super regularly) for looking after me when I had a seizure yesterday afternoon. She really went beyond the call of duty, not only did she make sure I was ok and was coming round and hadn’t hurt myself, she even cleaned up after I vommed on the floor. She is spectaclular. #myhousemateisbetterthanyours
March 2013
12 posts
Owen - Never Meant
I have today off so my day will mostly consist of;
- Sitting in my bed, not feel guilty about the fact I didn’t get up til half three (I work nights, but I still feel guilty getting up late, maybe I miss sunlight…)
- Reading The Observer, and maybe a few chapters from Maggie Cassidy and USA
- Eating the Easter bunny my Granny sent me, maybe, I’m undecided so far
- Kicking myself for not asking the girl who was flirting with me for her number last night
- Listening to Wilco’s Yankee Hotel Foxtrot: The Engineer Demos (because it’s a way more beauitful version than the one that was released)
- And then before bed I’ll probably steal my flatmates boxset of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and watch as much as humanly possible
Good God my life is exciting.
MF DOOM - Guinnesses (Feat. Angelika & 4ize)
February 2013
16 posts
Self Defense Family (End of a Year) - I’m Going Through Some Shit
You are your own man
The only pillar between heaven and ground
The Postal Service - A Tattered Line of String
