Something interesting and intriguing shall follow...

So I was thinking today as i stood under the incredibly hot water of my shower i hope people don't dismiss my writngs because of a few posts. Talent doesnt go and then come back but my moods affect me a great deal and this all began because i had no one to talk to so it became my outlet for life. My place to scream and shout, metaphorically ofcourse. If you do come across this whoever you may be i hope you go back to the begining when i was more of the me id like to be. When i wrote with passion and not anger or atleast constructive anger and not blind rage.

I take a lot of examples from movies, how we are portrayed onscreen what we want to see, what we pay to see. Movies filled with heroes, hundreds of them over and over again, saving the girl, saving the world, saving their kids, saving honor, saving just about anything. We go, we watch, we leave satisfied but why? These people do not exist, they are figments of somebody elses imagination, there are heroes in this worlds but far less then those who appear in the movies. Why? does that not strike anyone else as odd? that we have to look to the big screen for our insperation for our entertainment, in search of heroes most poeple end up in blockbuster picking the newest Brad Pitt flick. I admit my collection of movies is vast, larger then anyone else that i know inface but that not stop me from looking for them in real life. i yearn to meet them, to know of there lives and there stories, to know if i have what it takes to follo in the footsteps of great men. To make my track, to walk alone from the masses and into a world where people do the right thing, where all men are men, where we all stand equal, where we fight injustice and wrongdoing. Even as i type it i know it sounds pathetic, like something a wide eyed child would babble after reading a comic, but why does it have to be so? Would it be so hard to do whats right, to help the old lady with her groceries, to ask the lone girl whats wrong when you can see shes crying, to stand up to bullies and thieves and liars, to respect those who deserve it. When did we stop being good people? you dont even have to live to the standards of the heroes you jsut have to start doing whats right for everyone, instead of just yourself. Don't be the better man, be the best man. And for those of you who are born into greatness, be grateful, some of us spend our whole lives hoping it will be thrust upon us.

With that i bid you goodnight.

It would be nice...

To open this page up and find someone had read it and found it something more than nothing at all would make feel a little more whole inside. At the moment I'm alone, I'm walking through ''a forest of concrete and steel'' (I cannot remember where I stole that line from but it’s awesome so I'm using it) filled with those in fancy dress and those too poor to buy it, those from other places and those from no place at all really. We all live in a world filled with people but some of us are as alone as alone can be. The single cacti breaking the horizon, the only thing to cast a shadow for hundreds of miles. (It sucks that miles sounds so good, kilometres just kinda ruins the flow). Anyway enough of the sappy mystic metaphysical crap and all the stuff in brackets to, I really must try and resist the urge to explain everything I think and why I think it.

So this week things have gone from bad to worse. I have sunken into the pit of self-loathing and hatred that I haven't managed to find the bottom of yet. It seems the more I struggle the deeper I slide... as a matter of fact it seems like no matter I do I find myself deeper in this hole, and with the rate I’m falling I hope to hell there is something soft at the bottom.. I've never been a great writer but I spit out some brilliant albeit short stuff more often than most people think. Fuck. I have come to a standstill in my writings again, which means that all this wasn’t leading to some brilliant dam breaking spasm of writing genius is was just a build-up to nothing which will of course leave me feeling even worse. Goodnight people (no one actually) if I’m not here tomorrow I'll see you all in hell when you decide to join me.

It's been a long time since I came around...

So I'm very much over being the only one like me. I'm not all that unique or even that different, a little weird yes but weird isn't as weird as it used to be. I have a thing for self sacrifice, let's refer to it as a hero complex. I help people, self esteem problems no worries Lee's here, need to get over that ex? No worries I got it covered. Need help with just about anything that involves feelings or motivation I'm your man. Now here's the part where everyone goes who have you really helped? And I honestly have helped people BUT they are all maybe kinda definitely females. *enter in the incredibly cliche Ohhhhhhh* it's not a sexual thing or a giving a little to get a little it's a guys can't help guys with that stuff. Even my best friend and I don't go that deep because that deep is balls deep and balls deep is gay. So I help who will let me help which of course is only the ladies, and in the end I end up getting attached because to help I find out everything I can about someone and then focus on the good parts so freaking hard I convince myself that girl is practically perfect. Anyone can tell anyone there beautiful but very few people can mean it as deeply and truly as someone who loves them. It's a bit fucked on my part because well as i explained, I never get the girl so it always ends in heartache for me, but I work past it and move on and add it to my list of things that make me go holy shit that hurts when I think about them. What I'm waiting for though, what this whole rant is about, is for someone to see everything I have seen in all those people in me. To go holy shitballs that guy, well lick my elbows and give me a kitten he's something different. That would most definitely be nice. That would make my year and maybe give me some reassurance that I'm not going to die alone with my hand rapper around and Xbox controller... (I'm probably going to hell for the Lady Gaga reference anyway)

the mediocre memoirs of a magnificent mind

I have only a short period of time before i retire to bed so i must type quickly and as such i shall probably have more then a few spelling mistakes, for all that notice i am sorry for all that complain fuck you. To begin, i miss jess, i missed her birthday and i have not seen her in just over a year more of her choosing then mine as a small part of my bloody beating heart still loves her. I miss her, hayley. She resides in my mind like a toger un the undergrowth of the indian bushland, striking when i least expect with such weight and ferocity that i recoil in anger and sadness that she has managed to creep up on my mind once again. Work, i have been promised a promotion, one i have been promised before, but that does not stop me from believing that this time it is true. Although that upper management apart from my own boss knowing about it seems to help my thoughts significantly. I sliced my finger, badly the time, simply, and suddenly my weeks life has changed from nights to days, and days to longer days i work a different job from the one i am used to. Doctor today to check on its healing, healing well she says in an excited tone and i am happy until she reminds me that i still will not be able to return to regular duties for some time. then we get to what really matters, sleep, more so my lack of it. I ask for medication to, putting int frankly, knock me the fuck out and she declines worried about its addictive feautres and how short term the fix is. We hash it out,m i walked in wanting to sleep and left with anti depresents/anti axienty tablets for my rising levels of stress. Two weeks she says before you will see results, let them work. It has almost ticked over to say three of the plan. The plan i have had every week of every months for the past year. CHANGE MY LIFE. but this time i have managed to get past day 2 without any major hickups lets see how day three goes, shall we. I am stressed, and tired and annoyed. Simple things like books and movies no longer function the way they should for me. I soent the last of my money before i got paid today on my brother who has taught me more then he knows. i love him to bits and worry irrationally about the big bastard, but all the little i can do to make his life easier i do them, as a kind of repayment for all the times hes helped me through the years, he doesnt see it but it means a lot to me just to have him as part of my life, and because he's my brother i hope he shall always be there. I am tired and stressed, this i have stated and thus i have stated it again. I do not miss my home as much as i used to but i do miss some of the poeple from it. Hayley is not ready for me, nor i for her in some ways. but i can see a day where she will embrace me, and see in my eyes exactly how i feel and i shall not be afraid to show her, that it was love is i fear, love is being afraid of rejection and losing someone and them not loving you, but letting them in, with all the handholds and weapons to hurt you without the fear of them actually doing it. She will hurt me in times to come, but i will always be open to her, she has the remote for my happyness in life, how could i not?

and with that i say orivwa... or however you spell the french goodbye, because honestly how cool does it sound when they say it. Goodnight readers, farewell for this evening and i shall write to you all next time.

Some more shit i wrote a long time ago...

Straight Jacket

Split down the middle and going insane

Fighting the monsters inside of my brain

Running and running I never get far

This world is so strange its very bizarre

Can’t stop for directions not in my head

Get lost in my thoughts and I’ll be dead

Can’t get help I’ll find my own way

Everything is so dark and so grey

A flash of light a burst of pain

Its then that I feel the pull on my chain

Pulling me back into the night

I will not go with out a good fight

Ripping, tearing struggling to bend

The will of those who I cannot befriend

Turning, turning to one last resort

I’ll make it quick I’ll make it short

Falling, falling into the abyss

Realizing I’m finally free of this

Field Of Fates

I have found a place in my head
In which many men are dead

Why though? I cannot say
On my mind their deaths weigh

But In this place I have no fear
I know I am meant to be here

I feel my heart begin to race
As I stare into an unknown face

Realizing that they all are me
Living an unfeasible destiny
and two shorts ones...

A wolf hiding in a pack of sheep
bloodied claws and teeth ready to reap





and





After I died they pulled me apart
Only to find you'd stolen my heart

So here we go again...

Smallvilles on again, it’s my current TV obsession. I had a hard day at work and a strange evening at Maccas, and I found myself trying to explain the brand I have on my arm. You see when I was young and a dickhead I got hurt (as all young dickheads do) by a girl, and afterwards went on, let’s call it a rampage of the sexual nature and did a lot of stupid things I regretted immensely, so to remind myself of that ever more and to punish myself I sat down in my backyard with a pair of pliers, a lighter and a roll of wire to set about the task of shaping letters, heating them and then burning the word regret into my arm. Sick I know, but at the time it felt like the right thing to do and it did make me feel better. Released a lot of the anger I had been keeping inside... and now I have completely lost track of where I was going. Let’s just call that the story of the scarred arm and leave it at that.

So Hayley, starting this story is like trying to find the right side of a coconut, you go in circles over and over again and just end up smashing the thing on a rock when you get mad. Except I wouldn’t smash Hayley on a rock I'd take her to Fiji and many other nice places. It starts with a trampoline. It was Christmas and the year was one I can barely remember. My mother had dragged me down to her friend’s house for Christmas as my father was away; there I met the Ross’s. They were and still are a pretty average family, but I headed out back to have a few games with their kids, Jarrod, Rebecca and the infamous Hayley. So much playing ensued and the night slowly went on, at some point the younger two kids headed inside and I found myself sitting on the trampoline not 4 feet from this smart young girl who scared the living hell out of. You see at 15 I was completely inexperienced at anything involving the opposite gender and frankly, rather shit at talking to chicks to. The conversation went for an age, for longer than I can honestly recall before my saintly yet incredibly annoying mother was calling me away to head home for the night. For the next few days I found myself thinking about this girl more often than not, and also thinking about how young she was. So that was the first step in a very long very painful journey.

The next step however didn’t happen for quite some time, I managed to find myself a girlfriend and have her dump me and metaphorically destroy my heart at an atomic level and then there was the whole scarring thing explained above and then magically Hayley popped back into my life. Many, many hour long phone calls later and I started getting the tingling feeling in my stomach, I was 17 and she was 15 which trust me, fucked with my head to no end. I felt twisted and wrong and fucked in the head, I beat myself up about it more than any of you who thought DUDE SHE WAS 15 would like to. So nothing happened I let it go, she went through boyfriends I went through girlfriend, not plural, just the one. BUT THEN ta-da, a year went past and I found myself thinking about her again and this time I was ready, I was in it to win and all those other things people say when there on the telly. So what’s my big plan? On the way home drop into her work and tell her everything, so she’s on break, sitting there across from me looking incredibly beautiful even in her butchers outfit, and she tells me about her boyfriend. Her 26 year old boyfriend. I was crushed, destroyed, obliviated, I was beaten to the chase by some 26 year old creep, of whom I had the pleasure of meeting recently (he looked like he smelled like shit, that’s how disgusting this bloke was), and well many more hour long phone calls ensued.

I wrote her a letter. I don’t think she'll ever see it, but for some reason... I want you, whoever you may be, to see it. I was in Perth at the time, in the process of moving away from the most beautiful person of all time and all of my friends and one of the only places in the world i've ever really considered home, but thats another story, one for another time when im more depressed and ready to tell it.

Find my next post and read how pathetically in love with this girl i was...

A few things you all should know...

So I'm watching smallville, I've had a few drinks and I'm heading off to bed, but before I do i must mention a few things. Firstly, my spelling is pretty shithouse, as is my grammar as you will come to know. Secondly, Hayley, you will read her name at many points throughout these posts. She is a very special person to me, and my relationship with her is possibly the most complicated thing i have ever come across which makes it complicated to the point of being fucking ridiculous. And last but not least, my often need to talk to myself makes my writing sometimes seem a bit... lets say inwardly directed? I know that's not great english but find me another way of describing it accurately and I'll send you a dollar.

(If you spot any spelling errors or grammar errors leave me a comment and I'll fix that shit right up)