Today I told a homeless man he was going to die. Now, what happened after that I do not know as I simply walked briskly off to where I was going. I like to think he turned his life around in order to prevent his immanent death, but maybe he simply stayed there and rotted like roadkill on a hot day.
So many things rummage around up there. For someone so helplessly against change I feel I'm doing quite well, I may have slipped up a couple of times but who hasn't, you know. "Well it's a good thing, old Gregory's growing up" Oh what a shame, but I suppose all these inquisitive onlookers into my life have a point, I am growing up. But no, I've always been mature and that, I'm not only just "growing up" I'm just starting to ignore the warning signals in my head that go off every time my life changes slightly causing my stomach to churn and twitch, a tiny bit of perspiration appears on my brow. But I'm practiced enough to not let this discomfort show, so I just carry on as normal.
You can't blame me for not liking change, I mean from an early age I was subtly conditioned to believe that anything that changed was bad, therefore making me develop a problem with it. I was such a fucked up little child. I think the worst part was my confidence, it pushed so many people away because they didn't realise how much help I needed. I was so broken inside.
I feel like one of those robots that are programmed to repair themselves, they fix and fix away at their outer shell and inner wires. But they cannot fix their firmware, so people will look at the robot and assume its fine, nice finely polished exterior, good looking set of wires. And yet within its "brain" it goes against everything it was designed for. Except with me I can hide it, a robot can't.
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Holy Fucktard
You know that glove, look back, the white one? Well I just tore it the fuck up. My tongue went in her mouth. There are some that say David conquered Goliath I just say he pussied out. I feel like that version of David right now. What a fucking cunt (language warning).
You moron, can you now accept that your competitiveness is ruining your life? Probably not I'll be fine in the morning, I'll be fine cause I'm an amoral wanker.
SUCK IT YOU FUCKING CUNT!
If you have no idea what I'm talking about right now you should be used to it, it does make sense but only to me because I'm the twat who writes it. All my shit is fantastical, like tripping on shrooms, oh fuck mmmmmm.
Like candy in the morning when coming down from a coke high,
Baby I feel like I'm wrestling with Peter and Adam on the mountain, I'm an eagle, now I'm a little child. You can't touch me you cunt, come on touch me.
I have no heart, it's solid. If any of you feel you are liking me, stop. I'm a prick, far from that actually. God you cunt, wanker, tit, prick (oh look at that punctuation, even when I'm being rude, outstanding) of a bastard you (I haven't used that one yet!).
I'm horrible, run whilst you can.
You moron, can you now accept that your competitiveness is ruining your life? Probably not I'll be fine in the morning, I'll be fine cause I'm an amoral wanker.
SUCK IT YOU FUCKING CUNT!
If you have no idea what I'm talking about right now you should be used to it, it does make sense but only to me because I'm the twat who writes it. All my shit is fantastical, like tripping on shrooms, oh fuck mmmmmm.
Like candy in the morning when coming down from a coke high,
Baby I feel like I'm wrestling with Peter and Adam on the mountain, I'm an eagle, now I'm a little child. You can't touch me you cunt, come on touch me.
I have no heart, it's solid. If any of you feel you are liking me, stop. I'm a prick, far from that actually. God you cunt, wanker, tit, prick (oh look at that punctuation, even when I'm being rude, outstanding) of a bastard you (I haven't used that one yet!).
I'm horrible, run whilst you can.
Friday, June 24, 2011
Persephone
I've thrown myself into a pit. Ironically by choice, usually I fear falling down accidentally. I've warned myself about this feeling, emptiness following the enrichment. This fucking Devil made me warm and then filled me with ice.
I feel like the little child who followed his friends into a cave, equipped with lights and food, but they leave him in the dark and cold on his own. I don't know how to feel right now, hence I'm sitting on my floor writing as a girl lies naked in my bed asking me what I'm doing.
I'm worrying that's what I'm doing. I don't know whether to run back into by shell of inadequacy or to just take it with a pinch of salt hoping for the best. There comes a point where one should raise the question about why I keep writing this stuff, none of you understand me. I suppose I am reaching out for help from the small amount of people who read this blog but I never make a damned bit of sense, stupid defence mechanisms.
I don't know what to do really, I'm supposed to be happy. Maybe I am happy, maybe that's the real problem. This is just my mind realising that it's gone too far down the rabbit hole and now it wants to come out. But that's natural really isn't it? I'm messed up, this is not good what I am doing right now. I feel I'm on the verge of self sabotage, it's definitely within my nature.
I feel like the little child who followed his friends into a cave, equipped with lights and food, but they leave him in the dark and cold on his own. I don't know how to feel right now, hence I'm sitting on my floor writing as a girl lies naked in my bed asking me what I'm doing.
I'm worrying that's what I'm doing. I don't know whether to run back into by shell of inadequacy or to just take it with a pinch of salt hoping for the best. There comes a point where one should raise the question about why I keep writing this stuff, none of you understand me. I suppose I am reaching out for help from the small amount of people who read this blog but I never make a damned bit of sense, stupid defence mechanisms.
I don't know what to do really, I'm supposed to be happy. Maybe I am happy, maybe that's the real problem. This is just my mind realising that it's gone too far down the rabbit hole and now it wants to come out. But that's natural really isn't it? I'm messed up, this is not good what I am doing right now. I feel I'm on the verge of self sabotage, it's definitely within my nature.
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Green Light
The uplifting feeling of seeing the light come closer and closer out of the darkness, you're waiting to be accepted into heaven, salvation is at your finger tips. It isn't the light of G-d, you're about to get hit by a car going 80 in a 50 at ten o'clock at night.
Blood crowns your head, bone splits your skin pointing sharply into the night time air. A large lump is on your thigh as your femur was snapped like a twig and proceeded to force up the flesh between your skin and its jagged end.
You're dead, there's no question about that. Imagine if there was a light coming towards you as you enter the pearly gates of G-d almighty. I chuckle at the thought that some would probably run this time for fear they were about to be hit again. But it is disrespectful to laugh at those who die so I'll make it a brief chuckle under my breath so no one looks at me as a sadist as I peer down at the body illuminated by those brilliant blue lights of our emergency service team.
I sound like a right fucked up freak. Strange thing is, is that you would never expect my thoughts to procure such sick disturbing images. Odd really. I don't think these things during my normal life, I don't stare at a person and imagine them sprawled on a road wondering my reaction. I am a fairly balanced individual. Odd really.
I wish you could meet me. That would be my true work of art. To see your face as I am revealed not to be the junkie with a Crack addiction, or the emo sitting in the corner slitting his wrists crying about how little he perceived his mother to love him.
This is me though, what I write is me, I believe completely. Just my exterior doesn't match my interior.
Well, Fitzgerald was right, what a wonderful Green Light that appears to be.
I am happy.
Blood crowns your head, bone splits your skin pointing sharply into the night time air. A large lump is on your thigh as your femur was snapped like a twig and proceeded to force up the flesh between your skin and its jagged end.
You're dead, there's no question about that. Imagine if there was a light coming towards you as you enter the pearly gates of G-d almighty. I chuckle at the thought that some would probably run this time for fear they were about to be hit again. But it is disrespectful to laugh at those who die so I'll make it a brief chuckle under my breath so no one looks at me as a sadist as I peer down at the body illuminated by those brilliant blue lights of our emergency service team.
I sound like a right fucked up freak. Strange thing is, is that you would never expect my thoughts to procure such sick disturbing images. Odd really. I don't think these things during my normal life, I don't stare at a person and imagine them sprawled on a road wondering my reaction. I am a fairly balanced individual. Odd really.
I wish you could meet me. That would be my true work of art. To see your face as I am revealed not to be the junkie with a Crack addiction, or the emo sitting in the corner slitting his wrists crying about how little he perceived his mother to love him.
This is me though, what I write is me, I believe completely. Just my exterior doesn't match my interior.
Well, Fitzgerald was right, what a wonderful Green Light that appears to be.
I am happy.
Saturday, June 04, 2011
Gambits Of A Pawn
White silk flowed through his hands. Its smooth touch sent shivers up his arm. The material slid around his fingers and covered his hand like an expensive glove. He shuddered nervously as the intimacy increased. Growing faster moving up his arm and stroking his chest. He let the beauty cover his entire body within minutes. He felt whole and complete. Blood pulsated through his veins harder than they had ever done before. He felt his loins swell with excitement at its touch all over his unclothed body.
A few days earlier this scene would have seemed impossible to him as he saw the tiny piece of silk floating effortlessly through the air being carried by the wind. As it moved further towards him, fluttering in the breeze, it grew larger before his eyes. Its rippling body was directed at him, completely undivided attention. He looked at it and wondered whether to reach out or to just move on like he had done so many times before. This piece was special though, unlike the others. It had a sort of transcendental grace unparalleled by other cloths that had floated in his midst before.
So he reached out to it, and here he was, standing bathed in perfect white silk. But it came to an abrupt end as he felt it slide from his skin just as smoothly as it had done not minutes before. It left him standing naked in the wind. He watched as it glided off, its shape held the identical form of his body. Its white colour seemed to be engulfed by shadow, giving it an odd greyish tinge. He wondered if his eyes were deceiving him. He blinked. The silk was white. It looked like an angel. Standing there, human in structure but without detail. A blank face, smooth with silk. It became grey again, and with a blink it was white.
He could not take a step forward for he feared it would move further away from him. He stayed planted to the floor. Humiliated in his lack of attire in this cold wind that brushed his body as it past. He could see that the silk would return to him and they would become one soon, but would the shadows take it before that could happen. He wondered. He worried.
He felt connected to this material, more connected than he had ever felt before. But this connection came at a price, the price of distance between them. So close yet impossible to reach. He longed for its smooth glide over his skin.
As he shut his eyes he wondered, would the silk be black when he opened them, or would it be its beautiful pure white just like it was when he fist laid eyes on it. He hoped for the latter, but of course there was no way to tell just to wish this silk would not compromise its colour. Just for him.
A few days earlier this scene would have seemed impossible to him as he saw the tiny piece of silk floating effortlessly through the air being carried by the wind. As it moved further towards him, fluttering in the breeze, it grew larger before his eyes. Its rippling body was directed at him, completely undivided attention. He looked at it and wondered whether to reach out or to just move on like he had done so many times before. This piece was special though, unlike the others. It had a sort of transcendental grace unparalleled by other cloths that had floated in his midst before.
So he reached out to it, and here he was, standing bathed in perfect white silk. But it came to an abrupt end as he felt it slide from his skin just as smoothly as it had done not minutes before. It left him standing naked in the wind. He watched as it glided off, its shape held the identical form of his body. Its white colour seemed to be engulfed by shadow, giving it an odd greyish tinge. He wondered if his eyes were deceiving him. He blinked. The silk was white. It looked like an angel. Standing there, human in structure but without detail. A blank face, smooth with silk. It became grey again, and with a blink it was white.
He could not take a step forward for he feared it would move further away from him. He stayed planted to the floor. Humiliated in his lack of attire in this cold wind that brushed his body as it past. He could see that the silk would return to him and they would become one soon, but would the shadows take it before that could happen. He wondered. He worried.
He felt connected to this material, more connected than he had ever felt before. But this connection came at a price, the price of distance between them. So close yet impossible to reach. He longed for its smooth glide over his skin.
As he shut his eyes he wondered, would the silk be black when he opened them, or would it be its beautiful pure white just like it was when he fist laid eyes on it. He hoped for the latter, but of course there was no way to tell just to wish this silk would not compromise its colour. Just for him.
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