Thursday, March 06
sixties and seventies our minds and ears pushed to the edge and bent, then the eighties and nineties came and went with nothing that meant a thing to anyone just an increase in rent and more money spent. or so it seems. welcome to the internet age.
Y not asks generation Y X Z Y, GLBTQI, alphabet soup was never that tasty, the letters get stuck between the teeth so eager to stay afloat amongst bile, bye bye bye generation Y, no one heard you anyway, sadly...
People talk converse speak but nothing comes out of their parched lips slit eyelids scan the surface petter out on the horizon. Ponies sway independently, sixteen housemates later a connection forms. Listen to it's silence.
pandora, you're my beautiful box.
Thursday, November 08
Life lesson # 54729: Nobody can save me.
But it's okay. maybe i don't need no saving. it's all in my head.
Wednesday, October 24
i feel the tension rising, boiling, bursting at all the wrong places on my back. it started that night & no amount of miles of walking could rest my twitching muscles. i sleep with eyes wide open. you know exactly what it feels like. you know.
now here.
writing again
like there was never an enormous rupture between eye and screen.
the whirring of the white light
it makes me insane
because mostly i walk in the dark.
how did i end up here
how did i get so dependant
how did i build this
a flicker of affection is all i need from them to make me sane.
Tuesday, October 23
a premature announcement based on paranoia and an awkward age. the sugar is melting all too fast in the busy tantamount frission of our schedules piling up the hours & fine days. the days are similar. our beds regurgitate us out and plant us back where we belong with a freakshow of a mind to tame. a dream, a reality, a body-mind gap, what is the difference?
Sunday, August 19
stop the clocks.
Monday, July 16
A crown of time sits on my rested Shoulders, soldiers who were tested thoroughly through the pain of late. tension whirred through my overcommitted stallions, but i have allowed them to be treated like they matter, and finally, i've maybe tricked them into believing that they do. so slowly i tread towards a clear head and nose. the arrival of two of the most special people in my life has sped up the process. they returned at a surreal time with wide open smiles & eyes and so much love and genuine wishes my heart is filled with that wonderful feeling one calls worth. i am worthy. i have discovered the four-leaf clover in them. they stand tall and sturdy as rocks, not flinching for a second as they hold me up to the world.
Wednesday, July 11
last night my body finally screamed. the splitting headache, the thorns in my throat, the rush from hot to cold, the dizzy vibrations, stepping from one faulty foot to the next, breathing breathing breathing but finding it so hard to breathe in trusty O two, repetition will not save my body now, oh and the nausea, oh and the disgusting dread i felt, the kiss of death stared down at me from the sky, daring me to keep driving, daring me to keep living, but beckoning me towards its dangerous abode. the snake skin at my sides reminded me that this is my only shell, this is my only mind, take care of it, call her before you wrap yourself around a tree, before you bury yourself so far below the ground that no one will ever hear you scream.
Tuesday, July 10
I keep telling myself to stop, to breathe, to take in what's happening in my life instead of simply going mindlessly through the motions. it's all just a bit Too Much. i am overwhelmed by my busy lifestyle, by all those meaningless fucking words, but at the same time i don't feel i'm struggling. i just know i need a break from life, but i don't know when, or more importantly, how.
Sunday, July 01
my head is full of fury and frustration, i could not sleep those nights, the pillows turned to flames.
thank god it rained.
Thursday, June 28
i want to throw her into an ocean of sharp waves and cuts and churning chunks of seaweed grabbing at her legs. i want to wreck the havoc, the chaos, release the frustration no stress ball can relieve. it's true, yes, it's true, damn true, too true what my head is telling me, yes yes yes i know, and i know and i KNOW but i don't want to know, but maybe this time i'll listen.
fuck the heart. is it even there these days? stick a knife into me and check. lick it afterwards and see if it tastes of lust or love. no, take that back, the L word is not a part of this story. she used it on me, another example of that word being thrown around. i suppose it's just a word after all. but did she have to use it? did she have to yell? did we have to bring ourselves down as the rain came pouring down onto the car, massive music attacking me back to that empty person in need of being filled with something other than toxicity? i suppose it's better to be empty and desperate than being filled with that shit.
Tuesday, June 05
a week of confusion, chatter, and choking but carefree androgynous fucked up fun with more than a little suffering underneath it all. it is an experience.
Gravity
the ball dropped from the stairs
it fell gracefully into a glass.
she looked up.
i smiled.
a flirt with a fresh face.
i sat at the table.
she served me.
we grew acquainted.
the night was long but soon ended.
she came back.
i wasn't surprised.
she was presumptious
i let her into my life.
i gave full permission
without knowledge,
without caution.
we hit the city streets.
again
again
again
three nights in a row.
she talked
i listened
she filled my head.
i smiled hideously.
she filled my stomach.
she called me
again
again
again
too much too fast too much for my taste too much she killed my senses too much too much too much
they warned
i grew weary
they warned
i felt ill.
they warned
i became a stilted shell.
she fed off me.
she gave nothing
she took too much
i saw her... but i didn't see her
the penny finally dropped.
Friday, May 25
away from prying eyes i sit imagining a strange reality like the one i drew last night. they are this and that, i am separate, i am free in my happy solitude, i am god-awful and powerfully oblivious, apathetic, but all-knowing and drowning in the contradiction of it all. i laugh and cough. i sing despite the pain it causes my throat. i am sick for the first and probably only time this year.
i need to deal with the oncoming traffic that is the near future, i need to peel my bed of it's sheets, i need to walk through the alleyways more often to take in the air that exists there.
i was walking through my now favourite suburb which somehow captures a piece of each part of my identity, it is a miracle. it was nighttime, but i didn't feel the darkness. i felt light. i picked up what i came for, got more than i bargained for, and walked back to the car, through the craftly graffittied alleyway and looked between the buildings - there was my city shining and bold, the perfect distance away, it's buzz in the air.
i live in this country, and i am so very glad.
Wednesday, May 16
Life is a revolving glass door. do not be fooled by it's apparent predictability.
Sunday, May 06
i listen to holly throsby, it is perfect for the moment, for the rant that stretches my fingers over the keyboard.
i dream of amanda palmer. i dream of the foreign bookshop. i dream in french. i talk of moran, the dolls, gay politics. my accent flows from australian to canadian to american to irish to fakefrench. i switch from english to french to polish to german to spanish, but it doesn't matter, i say the same thing.
everyone's pairing off and i feel alone. when will i find my significant other? i must first be okay with a lonesome existence. no, not a lonesome existence, but an existence alone without another. i must be okay with myself. but i am, but i'm not always, but i still want it.
there are three things in my life. there are thoughts, there are dreams, there is the reality of my day to day bantering and running around trying to be a someone, a committed someone, but a casual someone with attitude. i am not trying, this is all there is when you strip away the surface. i am often taken for a drunk, for a stoned arts student, for a confused being with no direction. so what does it mean when i put my hand up, when i sign my name, when i offer this or that, what am i really offering, and why do i do it? why don't i feel good enough? but for whom? for myself? for myself, indeed. i am not good enough for my own self.
Tuesday, April 10
i can not find clarity. i'm in a safe abode for more than a week, protected by love and sensitivity, but my mind can not rest. there's a block. i'm aware that something is on the other side of the block, but ridiculous as it may sound, i can't gain access to it. maybe i should write more. write write write to try to break the block, banish the boulder in the way, breathe through the air on the other side of the wall that's part of us all.
why do we need to reflect? why do i need to reflect so much? will something go wrong if i stop it? what do i gain from finding this clarity? peace of mind, probably. understanding a piece of my mind. clarity is extremely important to me, i need to know where my mind is at.
Thursday, April 05
they wheeled me around on my hospital bed as i smiled at the ceiling and the absurdity of the situation. where's Dr. Grey?, i felt like saying with a mouth full of laughter and crazy joy. they hadn't even given me any drugs yet and i was already high.
with so much going on i feel the need to write it all down, but when i write it, the magic doesn't transpire through the pain, doesn't seep through my veins and make my heart beat faster. the memories themselves, particular details, particular sensations...they make my head spin with satisfaction. her, and her, and her...
Sunday, March 25
wow... wow... wow... ladies and gentlemen, the gay in the isolated city was not lonely last night. she was wrapped in silky sensations, brushed with much needed affection, softened and intrigued by her touch... god, almighty, i can not think straight, i can not focus, i can not can not can not stop thinking about her and those gazes, those eyes, that closeness of our bodies... my god, it was heaven and so much more...
Tuesday, March 06
the trick amongst all the chaos and fear is to breathe. to remember to breathe. and then to actually breathe.
i need someone to ground me. H, i need you to tell me not to be afraid of everything, that everything will be okay, even though intellectually i can grasp the concept that things will most probably turn out okay. i just need you to tell me. i know that these days it seems i am much better, and i definitely am, but at night the fear breaks me. i can't find my core during the day, i am so flimsy and manic, i don't feel like myself. but the opposite of what i am now is to be the familiar depressive i have learnt to be for so long. i know the depressive so well, i fit that skin so well, like a pair of old jeans i can't bear to part with. but life stops when the depressive in me takes hold. i just want to be told that everything will be okay, that i will find some balance between the happy-chappy-on-the-go-ania and the dark-and-dangerously-depressed-ania.
PS. you are more special to me than you know.
Thursday, March 01
what is it that i want? stop questioning. just do. i am doing, okay. i am doing. i am definitely doing. i am here, i made it here through some stroke of luck. i'm here, i'm at college, i'm at university, i have a decent enough job, i have met interesting people, i have three amazing friends i am so grateful for, i have a million acquaintances, a million different moods, a million thoughts pulling at the neurons, pulling me through the night... i will find my soul another day. just do for now.
Saturday, February 24
a whinge about being gay in the isolated city.
i went alone to the court, establishing which team i'm on. i tried to have a good time, to expend that pent-up energy that never seems to slip through the cracks.
i was alone.
suddenly i was so alone.
why am i always alone?
will i always be alone like this?
when will i find her?
perhaps next time i will have more luck, instead of having a fifty-year-old deaf woman be interested in me.
Sunday, February 18
alas, the new abode awaits me in the west, i on the hill look down on it, wondering what this year will bring for my youthful but sceptical soul. a new chapter, a new home, new familiar faces, une nouvelle vie...
Thursday, February 08
the clocking tick has taken my memory. the sweat sways from side to side, left hemisphere to right hemisphere. god almighty, god almighty, unsettled am i, scared am i but curious as to see where my mind will take me, will the blue sheet reappear in my hands, why did it come to her, why didn't it stay within my mind, why can't i remember!! and i miss her. and i need her. and she wants to be my friend. how can i sleep tonight?
Saturday, February 03
it was diamonds and gold and shiny shiny teeth under the clearest water. a treasure chest of words was opened and our laughter danced in the smouldering heat.
it was wonderful. hell, it was better than wonderful.
twas life and life and all our burning energy bouncing off the humidity.
Tuesday, January 30
on a redblue canvas made fresh within that December:
Melt the melancholia
Let the redness of the moon burn
it into a nothingness incomprehensible,
and let the bitter ash be swallowed
by a sea of dreams that has for too
long dreamt of redblueblack blood.
Monday, January 29
that night - the pain cut through my chest, the bass revebrated through my stomach, killed any pleasure i saw in life the day before. the mohawk smiled cheekily but i did nothing in return, my soul was too far away. a hand outstretched in front of me, welcoming. i became the opportunist once again. we breathed the humidity, we poisoned ourselves for the sake of being social. we leant against the wall, all casual, we talked. i even laughed, but it came from my head, not deep and true from my heart.
where has my soul gone? why did it abandon me on the dancefloor?
Saturday, January 27
there are too many thoughts and complications when it comes to her. is my fondness for her dangerous? should she have pursued this out of the pink walls? should she be leading me down this road, god almighty, why did she do this? she wanted to help me, of that i am sure, but now i'm not so sure it was such a good idea, i'm stuck in a limbo. painful love, excitement, and i need to find someone soon, take my mind off her, before the shit hits the fan.
Sunday, January 14
i miss the wide mellow hallways, familiar muffled voices outside the door, an unanswered phone ringing in the next room. i miss the certainty that she will visit my abode and paint comforting words on the walls. i miss their accents, their efficient smiles, their non-judgemental gazes. i miss the comfort of living within those imagined boundaries where everyone is fucked and no one asks questions. everyone is respectful and everyone is suffering. the atmosphere can be bleak but the stillness in the air, the lack of change, it becomes a welcomed habituation.
things are different there. life becomes an untouched sphere hovering above your pink hospital bed.
you are a child, protected from the world that seems so far away.
as time passes you begin to crinkle a smile at the world, you gain some distance from your fears. but you're never ready to face life again. you step out of the hospital and the mind begins to race again, you find you were veiling your fears with a soft sheet. you feel the hatred you have for yourself swelling up inside you, you feel it rip through your centre like an infinitely long strand of barbed wire. at first you try to ignore it's presence, you postpone dealing with the pain, but soon it catches up to you and, my god, it is unbearable. you cry. you scream. eventually you fall asleep and hope to dream of happiness flooding your broken brain.
Tuesday, January 09
we hit the city streets, five oddballs in the making. it felt like life, along with all the indecisiveness and smelly streets and cheap asian food. there was no script, i calmed my nerves, accepted my differences among them and moved on. i met a tall soul who lives peacefully, looks genuinely content, so calm, so confident. he eyed me for too long at the end of the night. he's handsome and softspoken, but i suppose nothing will come of it, i still dream of her and her and her and her! the long, disturbed nights are worth it for the comfort of those sporadic dreams.
Monday, January 08
how i love the feel of a fresh blank page against my palm. it is earlier than dusk, don't trust the clocks. insomnia has interruptd my peaceful slumber once again. i wish i could demolish depression. i wish it wasn't so comfortable in a bed full of hours and hours of wasted time beneath the sheets. i wish i could sweep those deadly woes under the carpet conspiciously. trod on them, press them into the floorboards, forget them. and step back with my broom, admire the work, victorious!
Sunday, January 07
Life! Do not overthrow me as of yet,
and bury me with haste by time,
invisible & light as wind, pulling desperately at our hair.
Reclaim thy throne as heavy as the steel of revolution,
and steal my heart, dear life, so lost in reverie.
Forget what thoust have told me from
before these wretched times,
and collapse upon my limp body,
yearning to be awoken from a deadly, concious coma.
Face the demons that spring forth in blood and spirit,
keep them far from writhing flesh upon my keep.
And at dusk reveal the naked truth,
seen through vacant, oblivious eyes so very hollow.
Forsake me not, dear life, for i must live.