Saturday 16 April 2011

We are as the dazed, utterly confused in our madness and incomprehensions of the lord. Mercy is what we ought to seek but we feed for the necessities of consumers sweeties... As I listen to the cars and bustling of bars...I truely wonder. As stewards of the kept earth, we left it in ruins, For our descendants to be kings of the waste land and to fall to filth in. We are like pigs for we slother in our filthy layings and unjusticely scratch each other's backs when we're wrong but to coked up and f****d up to see it. There's hope, we're all near it but... We...just...can't...see it Alas though, for my calling in life is yet to be found and bound to me like a black baby slave in a ship's shackle.

Tuesday 10 February 2009

No subject needed....just my voice

No subject needed....just my voice

As I write this my mind is wondering and turning over. As a writer I always wanted to do the best stories and secretly spurn out mind blowers like the brilliant writers of our time; past and present ones ranging from A to Z. Earlier on during the hand in period it dawned on me properly that I have not even reached my own peak and had only begin to realise my own voice. The voice I only wanted to use was not the voice I had. I've yet to gain the voice that I so badly wanted. I wanted to be the litererary, omniscient, powerful, every word hits you type but I am far far far from that. There are basic story templates that I cannot even follow because of a lack of reading, attention, basic effort...I'm the only one at fault here, no one else can be blamed.As much as there are the classic questions of what makes a good story writer as well as there being different types of work can be as good as the traditional forms I know that its not the fact that it's a case of my work's quality being questionable but the work itself just not being of a good pedegree. So I will take personal strides to improve before the final year. Maybe I was lying to myself all along about this whole writing thing. Maybe I'm not for this business. An author I will not be or even consider at all. Strangely enough though I will continue to do this in my own time because it is still a great release when the frustration and academic pressure of making it good are taken off (officially next year...hmm).Well now at the moment the usual mix of home, ex friends and current ones, work, my future, the past and my dying university career are on my mind. The other day I was with one of my good friends in wetherspoons and I was more wet then a johnsons baby wipe. I had so much shit on my mind that I couldn't talk about because I just know that certain things should be kept closed for a while. Combine that with tiredness from working everyday and boy.....a mixture of all sorts will happen. A module redemption form came in the post as well and having that on your mind will fucking bite you, It certainly made me a miserable shit for the rest of the day. And I know it probably will not be the last one. Later on in the evening which was spent with my friend after wetherspoon I made more of an effort to be better company in order to deter myself from talking about it completely. There is something that I learnt from my lecturer not long before I handed in my work; Leone made me realise that my own life can be interesting. My life is my own and no one else's. I have my own experiences and if I convey them with clarity and the sheer essence of the events then a good piece can be achieved.I will continue withn the new voice and form before I proceed to improve the one I want so badly. The third and not the first. Boy yesterday I was at work and it was a good thing that I was there because drama once more unfolded. Not needed, unneccessary, uselessness foolishness. Oh and a cat followed me, my sister and my cousin last night. I'll save that for another blog.To be continued, the dodgy academic. xxxx

The best since.....well like EVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!Share

The best since.....well like EVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

To Everybody,Today my friend and ex-colleague from Urban outfitters alia took me to me with her to see N*E*R*D live at the Vodafone TBA concert in Brighton. I was told the news and was frankly elated. This was something I so badly needed and it has come at the right time.So much has gone this year from the good to the very very ugly, besides me discovering more about me and everything (people, education...baby you name it...) around me. I'm in a place right now when I'm learning so much,taking so much in and much much much more. Therefore this was DAMN WELL NEEDED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!Thios has turned me around in the sense that it made me so happy, and I will frankly never forget the feeling when I was lifted from the audience and put on THAT stage.People may think that I may be over reacting or a bit crazy but this saved the day and gave me a flash of lightening that I haven't had in years.I'm not saying this is the solution to my problems but it was the drink; the way people release anger or frustration was the way I released my emotions. The strong feelings of being freed by my own body, as I was allowing myself to be taken by the music made me so happy. I have not felt like that in ages and this renewed feeling is one I want to last for a while. Or as long as it can.Being on that stage at that moment; that precise moment of intensity, fire...the feel of being around N*E*R*D was a brilliant brillant feeling. A feeling that has not been felt in so many years and one that has awoken me and has put me on the road to a sense of recovery. To recover my spark. what makes me tick. Hugging Pharell was brilliant, seeing N*E*R*D was a dream, I will always thank Alia for it and boy I won't ever forget it. Not in a million fucking years.From the true N*E*R*D fan and lover of free soul and music.

Life bites and I hate people.....

Life bites and I hate people.....

I hate people...............They are annoying! Or am I emotionally consumingI am feeling the feelings of discontentment and annoyance! I am enraged for nothing because I am beginning to feel the thoughts of unhappiness again. I out do myself because it takes one thing and I'm fucked over...all over again.Writing helps and I need to keep myself busy too!I want to get away from it all..................Just somewhere else, with other people and other things.When will I be happy? Properly? When will I be free of misery? When will I have my desired wants or a good relationship or a good anything? When will the eye of my affections find me? When will I feel good?bad mood and hot feelings

Abnormality of dwellings.

Abnormality of dwellings

Sunday, August 31, 2008 at 9:47pm
She dwellls all day and or all night long. Everything some how seems to bother her one at a time or all at once.An event, which could potentially need one explanation, can be blesses with 500,000 by her. Whether they are jusitifiable or just plain ridiculous.She needs better friends, a new job and a better life...a new place would also be good.She dwells on things that upset her. She dwells on those little comments but does not what she should at the time of event occurence.She dwells on fools jokes and allows them to affect her. She hates everyone secretly and wants a baseball bat...but wants to use a human head for the batting practise.She dwells on the guy she obsesses over, even though he wants her supposed good friend, she dwells and fanaticaly fantasizes over a relationship because loneliness is eating her soul.She is a confused dweller who dwells on more.........she wants more, makes ways to get it but still feels inadequate. The dweller of the century....the moaner of eternity....the wrongful misery bearer of her youth.The cross bearer for depression,The docile worker,The secreter of deceitfulness.The dwellings of an eternity, for the dwelling dweller.

For the sake of my sakes...A truthful piece of me

For the sake of my sakes...A truthful piece of me

The body of my soul is light like goose feathers.
My pony tail is at risk of thinning because it hates the chemicals that I cannot live without.
Crack cream? Get it! Crack cream....
Once more, my thoughts are circulating like the circle line, continously rounding up then down then up once more.
Hot chip is in my ears but I wanna hear kings of leon. Just for curiosity. I've never listened to them before.Oh now I hear it, now I hear their tune...How late am I? No trend setter for todays youth.
I'm 21 but feel more like 27...weird isn't it because I still feel immature!

Uni starts next week and am I bothered...in many senses...no.
Grateful as hell that I was allowed back but on skins on teeth? Fighting for something which maybe was never meant for me.
Am I a writer? NO!
I am a beggar of the pen, the paper and a amateur blogger.Am I an expressive person?...when I wanna be and when I feel comfortable.At times even my own peoples do not see the real me...

I show want I want and when I don't, I'll do an anti-social on your arse. Fuckery but deep down true. A potential prisoner of ones self.
Do I see myself as a lyricist? I would like to be, but me answering my own question may not produce the truthful answer.
Counting the days until the student rat race of module reading, lecture sleepings and once more looking for something to spark me up but not finding anything.The course which I do not enjoy anymore, because my love died and sunk as low as the remains of the titanic.
Back to work, back to class and the harsh ceiling lights which highlight your lack of sleep and vitamin k.Back to going cinema and watching the same shit.Back to wetherspoons and having the same chocolate fudge cake.Back to wishing that I would get another payrise.Back to wishing I never met some of the people that I did meet.Back to saying "Yeah I'm gonna go theater and eat sushi again and have my paul and sister coat". Yeah right.Back to walking past the local African grocery shops when I go to see my mum.Back to that life....Back to my aspirations and what I want because I refuse the life of mistakes...even though I'm dangerously close to it.Back to hanging out......Back to attempted budgeting.

Back to my life and the innocent glances that I secretly look on with other people's lives.
Back to my life. The tall trees that animals shit on, the 242 bustop and the tesco express (I swear they are coming everywhere...are tesco wanting more money out of us? Duh!)
Any who, The rambling is over. Toodles.

Back to Black

Back to Black

Walks of roaming on her heart strings,Her footprints are matching the footprints of others.

Warmth of fur, like a polar bear, Sitting in front of a wooden fire.Her natural gold of reliability is a con for her.

She may or may not love you but she'll help you anyway,then she'll go back to black.

The shawdows will await her once more,once the one she helps returns back to their light.Then, she, walks back to the black.

The cold pavement fills her soul and wells up her eyes.

Eternal heartbreak will be her demise and resentment is starting to pull at her earlobes, The whispers are shamful.Stone cold leather boots take a step.

A gloomy glaze of deadness has washed over her eyes and her skin is tight with cracks of neglect.Her fantasy of a bond crashed and collasped on her head.The happiness of her dreams has been quashed.

Back to black she goes, the souls of the dark accompany her.
They watch her and she,
hmm, she relunctantly walks with them.