I'd be the one that dies. (No one dies). Well then what's the point.

This is all I did today (Not that that is a bad thing, it was the best fucking shit I have done in so long; I finished it slowly, even though I had to I still felt the need to slow down more, I wanted to savour this book. It's really something special) - save for some of the usual self-deprecation; and a presentation that I feel I kind of rushed through - I hate that sort of thing. I much prefer talking in my head than using my mouth. My mouth and my tongue are messy, ugly things that I don't seem to know how to use properly - something always breaks up on the way down. This counts as the clothes one too.

I don't like leaving. I don't want to. I feel like everything happens when I'm not there.

If that read 'Nothing Was Beautiful, And Everything Hurt' it would be a more fitting epitaph. Hah. What a barrel of joy I am.

i was sick in my mouth when i tasted the blood in yours

you've got papercuts all over your tongue

from licking and stamping all those envelopes

but youre letters are stories for one person only

the way you guide that pen across the page

you might as well be writing my obituary

and i know id be able to read the words

to the rhythm of a tragedy; is it one of the greats

is it samuel beckett's or some obscure post-modern wordsmith

but who gets the last laugh when the laughing's written for you

your inspiration might be complex but youre words are simple;

THIS IS WHY I WANT TO KILL YOU

but it's never that easy though is it?

while youre penning out the finer points of my untimely demise

im constructing my life from the things i find in gift shops

how nice it is to feel nothing

and still get the full credit FOR BEING ALIVE

you spent the next 6 weeks with your little secret

come on im not as fragile as you might think

i might burst out inauspicious tears

but id mop them up myself just give me a sponge and a bucket

and something to dry my face with

maybe if i scrub hard enough ill be more attractive

ill duck tape my tongue to the roof of my mouth

so im reduced to bellowing vowels

and ill just stop talking altogether

let you be so requited in your literacy

i ruined it but to be fair i ruin everything

while youre penning out the finer points of my untimely demise

im constructing my life from the things i find in gift shops

how nice it is to feel nothing

and still get the full credit FOR BEING ALIVE

i'd write you stories back but i'd just be telling lies

id concoct a symphony just to open up your thighs

id take you for all your worth and leave you on the hard shoulder

after being with you i know i shouldve gone for your brother

just one more question, is it my face or yours on the cover

(CAUSE THESE DARK CIRCLES ARENT FOR SHOW)

I'm gonna head for Box Elder, M.O.

We see each other a lot; but we don't do enough together. So at least we'll do this:

Hmm, I want to be doing this in 1986; for the C86 mixtape, I think we could make something that would really fit in then. Wait. I don't want to fit in, compliment maybe, fit in? Fuck off. Things are a lot more pretentious nowadays; you have to make yourself obviously different, not subtly, people don't get subtlety - good thing I'm not subtle in the slightest. Direct and blunt is the only thing I think I can pull off; I want people to know why the fuck it is they're listening to us. But we don't have enough time. I seem to be the only one who cares. Fuck this.

Day 01 - A picture of yourself

Day 02 - A picture of what you wore today

Day 03 - A picture of what you did today

Day 04 - A picture of where you went today

Day 05 - A picture of your morning

Day 06 - A picture that inspires you

Day 07 - A picture that makes you cry

Day 08 - A picture of yourself somewhere you love

Day 09 - A picture of what you had for lunch

Day 10 - A picture of what you like to do

Day 11 - A picture of your favorite band

Day 12 - A picture that captures your favorite song

Day 13 - A picture of your friends

Day 14 - A picture of your idol

Day 15 - A picture of yourself and someone related to you.

Day 16 - A picture of an object that captures your life.

Day 17 - A picture of phone

Day 18 - A picture of your room

Day 19 - A picture of your favorite musical instrument

Day 20 - A picture of where you want to honeymoon

Day 21 - A picture that makes you think of your loved ones

Day 22 - A picture of your favorite item of clothing.

Day 23 - A picture that describes your life

Day 24 - A picture of who you were today

Day 25 - A picture that you edited

Day 26 - A picture that makes you angry

Day 27 - A picture that makes you laugh

Day 28 - A picture of someone you spoke to today

Day 29 - A picture of someone you’ll never stop loving

Day 30 - A picture of you and your best friend

Stolen rims are they alloy or chrome

This sums up pretty much everything I've ever thought of ever. This is my approach to life, my approach to work, my approach to people even. I don't fucking know what you look like yet, but I will hear someone talk about you and I will make my decisions right there and then.

If you look different to that - you're fucking wrong. And yes I can say that - it's my opinion, mine, not yours, not anyone else's, just mine. MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE.

everyone has told me that everything

you said back in high school

was said with air quotes attached

you sat at the back of the class (OH SO COOL)

spit balling all your friends in the back of the neck

so they would find you more attractive

and you could get off on their reactions

you reasoned that nothing will help you

when youre alone like your mother before

single woman single bedroom single walls

and not a single pay cheque

they tell me that youre still the same

as you once were back then

and you cant learn anything at all

youre still the bitch they took you for

but even so there is a part of me

i havent yet doused in catastrophe

somewhere down in my toes

that thinks you could learn to tolerate me

that thinks you could learn to tolerate me

everyone else is a loser sometimes

but you only reached that in your prime

it's/not/what/youre/learning

it's/how/youre/learning/to/use/it

but/youre/full/of/useless/knowledge

and/you/only/want/to/abuse/it

it's/not/what/youre/learning

it's/how/youre/learning/to/use/it

but/youre/full/of/useless/knowledge

and you only want to abuse it

Remember, when you used to laugh

I think I want to be abused. Somehow. It makes such amazing things develop in people when they're faced with it for the rest of their lives. I know that sounds selfish, and it is, but I'm just too normal. I've gone through stuff of course, most of it I don't remember, and it doesn't affect me, I wish I was a weaker person sometimes; I'm not, I'm uptight, screwed shut and I don't let emotions get the better of me. I'm stupid and ugly when you look at me like that. But that's how I want to be looked at - I'd rather be a hive for sad looks and mumbled sentiments than one for fake half sentences like 'he's so cute' or 'you're funny' - why the fuck would I care about that. I need to stop being so harsh.

I can't really soak up emotion into the things I write, when most of it I don't really understand, no one I know has experienced it; I definitely haven't. It's a shame. I want some tragedy and perversion to creep into my pores, I haven't experienced enough, I'm mostly a boring person. I want a shock to my system to completely destroy what I think about everything and anything, to leave me skinless and bald. And of course naked, who would forget that.

I guess this all makes for a ugly read, but I'm glad, this is what I think about most days. Life is so dull at the moment, waiting around for people to talk to isn't what I want to be doing. I really wish I had something I was obsessed with, something I wanted to know more about, or even something I was afraid of. Just something. Keep me busy, keep me alert, keep me awake even. Some days I'm not even getting dressed, I'm slumping about, in my boxers, with my spindly weedy frame just laid out. All pale and depressing. I'm spending too much time with a blank face and a blank stare, I'm losing my edge.

Can you please come and help us by teaching us some piano and how to sing? I guess I have a voice, but it's not broken in, it's weak and lazy and defiant sometimes. It often doesn't sound how I want and expect it to. I need help. I don't know how it sounds, I guess that is the main problem here - I don't know what I'm doing. But yeah, some lessons, would be wonderful. If I could find even half the emotion to put into things to make them more real, more beautiful, more raw, that Perfume Genius does, then I would do anything for it. I want to send shivers down peoples spines, make them second guess themselves when they hear what I say, make them cringe at how blunt I'm being, make them sigh. I'm such an ugly piece of shit sometimes. Ah well, that's me.

Guinea pig hair in a twisted mouth

Perfume Genius

Cymbals Eat Guitars

Jamie T

Mystery Jets

Japandroids

Spoon

Beach House

Bear in Heaven

Los Campesinos

Bit different from last time. More Chilled music - summer makes me relax; while winter makes me run everywhere and anywhere and never want to stay inside. I wish it would rain while I was in it for once, I miss everything that might make me smile these days. Oh well, there is always drifting melodies and submerged deep sea vocals to keep my mind fresh and clean. Not so much punk as fuck, more, lost as fuck.

I hope someone lives up to the standard of the last gig at these festivals we're going to. Or I will feel like I could of spent £7 rather than two hundred. Modest Mouse better be fucking good, I need to somehow take some memories from it to show her, will make her happy? Yes, I think so.

Undercover lover's got it right between the eyes.

Los Campesinos never answer my questions on their Formspring; and I know it's probably something that shouldn't bother me particularly, but it really does. They answered her question, but not mine? Maybe I'm not desperate enough in my approach, not that she was, just far more eloquent than I can be sometimes. I can think it in my head - but when it comes to spitting it out and making someone listen, I always manage to mess up either the delivery, the words themselves, or just I can't even fucking speak. I hate my lisp. But I wouldn't get rid of it for anything - only way I can interesting when I'm saying nothing about nothing.

Two people like each other. Some other people are being overly pushy about it. One person is trying to be cool about it and leave them to either fuck it up themselves or make it work, hopefully, better than their prior attempts. I'm always on my own aren't I? Oh well, I can think clearer when I only have my voice in my head, and not some grating collective noise bubble. Fit to burst. Enough of this however, onto the unfortunate subject of my conflicting nature. Honest to -insert deity or fake religious icon here- it's going to be the fucking death of me soon.

I enjoy spending time alone together; but I incredibly dislike being with a select couple of people for fucking ever. Hence why I despise holidays that last for longer than a week, what is the point in breaking off from a whole bunch of people to limit yourself to a select few - usually that you aren't really in love with so much as the groups you're leaving behind. But yeah, I want to both be alone together and be apart but still together, I want to be able to say I have a life that isn't tied down to her. That being said, I want one that can rely on her being there a bit. I need to rely on people. Especially those who understand at least most of my behaviour.

I fucking love time spent with her though; usually it's completely wasted, and I don't even fucking realise. Perfect time that. Saatchi was good fun - seeing the amazement she had looking at stuff I'm so accustomed to made me realise how it didn't actually get any less amazing; I'm just so much more relaxed now. I don't like that. I want to be an uptight, itchy, twitchy person again - one who notices all those little imperfections I see in people, in art too. I adore simplicity that is complex. I want to show that somehow, I want something visceral and perfectly, and completely, shit. And I want that to make it brilliant. Please.

I've got all this wonder in my face, but none in the back of my throat.

My texture's a sidewalk and notre-dame's playing

What the actual fuck.

16 months is far too long

to only just realise you hate someone

but it's far too short a time

to realise that they hate you back

you say i dont think enough about my sexual conquests

so why dont you make me spew those bars of soap

and leave me washed out on the floor with our tortoise

my thoughts have never been so unclean before

and you just wont take no for an answer

but who even said i was offering it

ever so apologetic that i cant hear your whiney tones anymore

its being drowned out by the applause

of an era of cataclysmic lovers that are just like me

every morning you wake me up not by kissing me goodbye

but by backing up into the trash cans

and littering your endlessly reliable self help books

into the empty lay by i ended it in the male bathroom

of your favourite squalid chinese buffet

on a sick encrusted toilet seat

i broke your heart into a hundred pieces

and smashed them with the balls of my feet

into the yellowing floor tiles

until they turned an odd shade of grey

your tears staining them back to white

stop wasting them on me i dont mean anything

to anyone and im pleased

the first few days were heaven sent

and i couldnt digest what ive been missing

picking up on the girls that everyone else leaves derelict

they couldnt look anymore flawless to me

they make up for all my dance hall tragedies

and they look even better lying opposite my boney frame

under your favourite well worn bed sheets

wearing nothing but your favourite tshirt

and nibbling away at my modesty

ever so apologetic that i cant hear your whiney tones anymore

its being drowned out by the applause

of an era of cataclysmic lovers that are just like me.

BUT THE NOVELTY WORE OFF

when i realised that my jeans spent more time

on the garish carpet than around my girly hips

and the white noise bursting out of my ears

was actually your voice retorting

all the things i said to fracture you right back at me

its obvious that youre over me and im so beneath you

ever so apologetic that i cant hear your whiney tones anymore

its being drowned out by the applause

of an era of cataclysmic lovers that are just like me

curled up and asleep on your doorstep

feeling quite SHIT FACED(ever so apologetic)

your doorbell ring reverberates in my chest cavity

and my ring finger aches from the force

oh my god why wont you let me in

ive already pissed all over your fresh roses(ever so apologetic)

that i bought for you for 11.50

from the off licence around the corner

but it's the thought that counts

but it's the thought that counts

oh my god why wont you let me in(ever so apologetic)

I FUCKING LOVE YOU so why dont you want me

im ever so apologetic x4

I want day to day life to finish already, I'd much prefer to live night to night; far more exhilarating. Far more aesthetically pleasing. God I hate that phrase, I use it so often it feels like vomit in my mouth (I use that word too often as well, it feels like.. you get the idea), but it works, so I do it. That's how everything happens, it works well for what we're trying to do so we do it.

I guess that would be a good approach to making music; no limitations in terms of style or how cool an instrument is perceived to be, just do it because it fucking sounds good and it makes you feel good when you do it. That being said, I don't want any clashing going on; I might not be writing any music but I'm default diplomat here.

It's all good; something will happen. Sometime soon. We have a kit. We have somewhere to start.

Hum to the tune of a tragedy

ive got your head against my navel

ive got your hands running up my thighs

youre doing everything ive wanted

but i cant look at anything past your chest

THERE IS SOMETHING THAT WERE MISSING X2

and im not going to find it

with my hands inside my pockets

i need to rip out your heartstrings

and check them for knots

ive got untangle the mess ive made

ive got to clear my face of spots

you need me to be cleaner faced

so you can stand to look at me

im sorry that im so ugly

i never meant to be

its not that i dont love you

you just mean nothing to me

when youre face deep in the toilet

and youre waist deep in piss

its not that i dont love you

i just cant handle this

we went to the seaside

you took me to the pier

you said you were going to dive off

i didnt come any nearer

part of me wanted you to jump

the other part wanted to push you

the wind ripped through your make up

and showed your former skin

you shouldnt hide your face like you do

with a face like that you could find

someone who could really like you

because i really dont

your fingers are stained with yellow

but youve never had a smoke

theyre stained from all the fake shit

youve spread about your friends

to make yourself look like the better person

but youre the bitter person here

why should i care about you

when you dont care about them

its not that i dont love you

you just mean nothing to me

when youre face deep in the toilet

and youre waist deep in piss

its not that i dont love you

i just cant handle this

now im down on my knees in the bath

of your garish spanish hotel room

youre soaked down with spit from

the results of being a bitch i presume

youre crying against my naked flesh

it stinks of your vomit

but i dont clean it up with the shower head

id rather sleep with it

THAN SPEND ANOTHER NIGHT WITH YOU

YOURE SUCH A LOSER YOURE SUCH A LOSER

YOURE SUCH A LOSER YOURE SUCH A FUCKING LOSER

and im just realising it

This contains many of the notions that exclaim in my head when I look at myself when I wake up and gaze at the heap of shit with the dodgy haircut (oh yes it's new - do you like it? No I didn't expect you to) in the mirror - It's a completely healthy self-loathing I assure you.

Nothing shite, please.

Shame, that's all I got.

These words are heavy but I'm alright.

I can't keep still. I'm actually full of physical ticks, not always, but so much right fucking now. I want to jump and jump and jump and jump. I want no one in my house so I can scream along to music that is just completely off kilter; free, loose and wonderful.

But I can't.
I'm stuck with my mother all fucking weekend. I don't want her. It isn't her day. She can fuck off please, but regardless of what I want, she's still going to be here, still going to nag and moan and berate me. And a weekend lasts longer than the build-up to it when it is a complete and utter let down on every level. It's not a break; just extended torture. Oh of course she throws in the occasional phrase of affection here and there - meeting only a 'Yeah Mum' on my part as per fucking usual. You'd think she'd give that up by now. Sigh. I don't need anyone talking to me at the moment - not when I get home, I just want to be left to do my work and to stop being irritated.

Work work work. I don't want to. I want to write and I'm having to physically stop myself from doing it - we're going to do music now. No more writing. Music. Music that makes people feel how I feel right now. Music that's silly, engulfing and utterly utterly pointlessly brilliant. But oh oh oh that's not likely to happen. But I hope it does, I'd like to be able to shout something that hasn't been thought up in someone else's head for once.

I like how genuinely excited she gets when I tell her I'm writing a post or a thing. I wish everyone else reacted to what I did like that; I'm not happy with myself in anyway but for people to be happy with me would be a start wouldn't it? Maybe. Hopefully.

It's hard enough being born in the first place; who would ever want to be born again.

This haircut makes me so much more self concious - but makes me feel better; like I can do stuff I wasn't happy with before, like looking at myself outside of my own bathroom mirror. Oh and you are all assholes. All of you. Don't leave her out. Don't make me the fucking consolation prize - I don't deserve that. Neither does she. I'm useless so be some fucking help please.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yAwSnxIXank

Yeah that's the video.

remember saying things like "we'll sleep when we're dead"

Soooooooo another nicer structured one, fun fun fun huh?

youve made me worry about when im dying

when all i care about is how i can get my scars

youve made me worry about when im dying

when the only death i care about is yours

i sleep in until 12.30 just so

i miss when youre leaving

the morning is always the worst

avoiding you is the most

important thing i have ever done

i cant think for the buzzing noises

when youre around

mouth over spoon cereal down

has never been this hard before

id dress myself up in your clothes

if it would remind you of what you were

unfortunately i dont have the legs for that

but you used to

ohhhhhhhhhhh but you used to

youve made me worry about when im dying

when all i care about is how i can get my scars

youve made me worry about when im dying

when the only death i care about is yours

sitting around in my boxer shorts

(living on desperation)

pondering how bitter i can look

(dying on too much caution)

and ive finished all the wine

stained red throat is the giveaway

im not going to stay

when you wont stay with me

AND I JUST GET FUCKED just so i look better

AND I JUST GET FUCKED just to make me feel better

and i just sighed

ohhhhhhhhhhh i just sighed

youve made me worry about when im dying

when all i care about is how i can get my scars

youve made me worry about when im dying

when the only death i care about is yours

~im sleeping in a clothes hamper

so i can feel the familiar smells

and i think i might be happier

if you just fucked off now~

i vomited up all over you

to make you smell of me

but you didnt repay the favour

i never smell of you

youve made me worry about when im dying

when all i care about is how i can get my scars

youve made me worry about when im dying

when the only death i care about is yours

ohhhhhhhhhhh your heart might be subtle

ohhhhhhhhhhh but my heart is RAW

ohhhhhhhhhhh

More people need to hear this;
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jOHVozR8Ehc
Fucking beautiful.

Fly away little hummingbird

I look like a cunt because I am one - What's it to you?

Long time - no, whatever. New look here; not sure on it - might go back to the old one, less attention whoreish that one. Much more in business.

But anyway, exams are over, a quick run-down of my hopes and fears then; 3 As and an EslashslashslashD is the likely sum of my parts - but you know it could well be worse than that - here's hoping. And I'm back to the great old days of waking up, going to school, learning something, forgetting it, and then remembering it again over a nice soggy bowl of coco crap. Lovely stuff this. But I think I'll like the fresh start - hopefully no awful, but brilliant, distractions will occur this year. But, like usual, enough of that horse shit.

I've written what I think could be a coda of sorts; it fits in with the general literary idiocy I spew into these things - but sort of sums it up, in a nice way? maybe? possibly? Although most likely it's not. And a newcomer, James of course, is bringing some sort of cohesiveness that may push this stuff forward; but I have to show him it first, and then of course find a suitable hiding place, maybe in a lake somewhere, to get away from the laughter he will obviously erupt into upon witnessing this shit.

Or maybe he'll like it. I need some positive encouragement from someone I know wouldn't lie to me - James is a straight shooter of sorts; and I like that. A lot.

I want to fuck with my throat. Not physically. Technologically. I want to make myself sound distant but right in your fucking face, and I know I make no sense, but I don't want to. And that's the whole point isn't it? Don't make sense, be weird, be wonderful and people will start paying attention to whatever it is you're vomiting up that evening. And hopefully, whatever it is I happen to be chucking up, will hold their attention for just over 3 minutes on average. That would make my day, that would make my year if it weren't for her. But hey, if two people pay attention then fuck her (don't listen to me, I'm mad on acceptance here). But that isn't likely to happen; that won't stop me from trying for the first fucking time in my life.

1 2 3 4

you are all ive got to keep me together

when youre around my spot prone skin starts to weather

you are all ive got to keep me together

down the drinks until i feel so much drabber

but when youre around i feel so much better

about my ugly face and my erroneous smile

the way i walk all slumped down and girly

my every rhetoric so soaked up in bile

seeing pictures aligning up with your acne

you hate how i leave you always so gloomy

but i really hope that you like me

5 6 7 8

Oh and I do think I haven't mentioned this one;

i cant talk when im looking at you

i cant move my lips from the edges of my cheeks

its more of a pain than

an enjoyment to hear you speak

how am i meant to pull off

being full of despair

WHEN YOURE RIGHT IN MY FACE

but oh my god i need a life

ive never thought about having one before

but oh my god i wonder what its like

to drag my face up from the floor(BOARDS)

and my tongue stings

everytime i insult

those dresses that you wear

and the way you hold yourself

so WONDERFULLY inappropriate

hearing your voice could

blemish the side of my face

BUT ID WEAR IT LIKE A BIRTH MARK

id show it to all your proletarian friends

id try to wake up with you

but i cant keep up the pace

and im sure youd love me

to be decked out in decadence

and its too hard not to care

i feel like high school is my whole life

but really ITS JUST THE END OF IT

OH OH OH OH OH OH OH OH OH OH

but oh my god i need a life

ive never thought about having one before

but oh my god i wonder what its like

to drag my face up from the floor(BOARDS)

spit in my face and i

might feel so much cleaner

than i do with

my tongue in your mouth

ive lost all my teeth to rot

from the bitter words spewing

into a pool on your sofa

AND WE WILL WALLOW IN IT

i could be something so much bigger

if i wasnt someone so small

Well I'd be damned if traditional structure doesn't look fucking good on me.

Night all.

You alright there, kid?

Modest Mouse

LCD Soundsystem

Fucked Up

Girls

The Antlers

Frightened Rabbit

Deerhunter

Animal Collective

Former Ghosts

Los Campesinos!

The Fall
Atlas Sound

These are the artists I'm currently in love with. And I'm talking long term relationship love - couple of Rugrats here and there, cottage in the countryside - fuck ton of useless fields to play with. That sort of thing.

And I don't what it is about them - there isn't any particularly pronounced similarities between them (save for a few members dancing between bands); they're all distinct. There isn't anything else like them - sure there are bands that have obvious stylistic resemblances. But the outcomes are completely separate and different. And I'm in love with that. Some are big names (in a way), and I guess you could argue that all are loved by the critics - but I don't give a fuck now do I?

To my day then, I guess I should get on to it eventually; not much occurring here. Just sitting for hours on end in my seat, in front of this screen. Twitching. Yawning. Sighing. Lisping away. I didn't do much in the way of revision for my chemistry unit 2 exam tomorrow morning - but I'd already done a lot and there wasn't much else I could do - so coasting through that seems very viable.

My mother. My mother doesn't quite get me yet. Seventeen years and you'd think she'd be getting some idea by now. But no. She doesn't get it yet. And for that I'm actually grateful - I can still surprise, shock and, thankfully, disappoint her - as she is so used to me doing. But like I said she doesn't get me yet - so she still thinks I might be getting better.

If anything I want to get worse. I like the look on her face - it's strangely satisfying; I need to grow up a bit maybe?

after eight months i thought i was ready to leave you

but after nine more you had begun to break my body

and now were back here and youre lying on top of me

i stare blankly at the weight touching your pale knees

looking up at you but youre not looking at me

i guess i just slept in an odd position

my tongue my speech has taken a beating

i guess i just slept in an odd position

my tongue my speech has taken a beating

run my shaking fingers through

your greasy lank hair in anger

tear it out of your face and leave you to be disgusting

theres nothing left of you now youve wasted your body

on someone who looks nothing like me

but im really sure he

got the looks down that i never cared to try to

i guess i just slept in an odd position

my tongue my speech has taken a beating

i guess i just slept in an odd position

my tongue my speech has taken a beating

stamp out your features and

hope it looks everybit like you

then you might be able to see what youd be without me

i may have a lack of style but at least i was happy

are you upset that it wasnt me who stalked down that alley

but it will always be

me who throws you from the stairs and out on the concrete

water leaks out from you you want me to be with you

with someone who looks nothing like me

i guess i just slept in an odd position

my tongue my speech has taken a beating

i guess i just slept in an odd position

my tongue my speech has taken a beating

did he have one of those faces

the ones that you find in all places

will it look just like everybody

will it be better looking than me

i cant believe the monster that youve made of me

as a lover i was dropped on my head

blinking twice splayed out on the bedspread

as a lover i was dropped on my head

blinking twice splayed out on the bedspread

The good times are killing me.

pull my teeth out of my mouth

and leave me with bleeding gums

then i wont be able to interupt you

even though your voice is cracked

even ringing out of tune

still sounds beautiful under my lispy croon

youve been pushing me under all the pouring rain

splashes blur out the screaming i can hear within

your face is some kind of bruised porcelain

the way your tongue grazes the roof of your mouth

stopped me from listening

as all the quotes running off your teeth

about all the boys you loved and then about me

the sweats set in my pores begin to ache

im realising this is the pain im due

so you can bury me underneath you

you can bury me underneath you

forget about all the useless

words i constantly spew

and take me shove me deep

in the dirt underneath you

It's not great where I am right now. But thank god it's roomy.

I think I'm going insane - first I write that, then I write this:

i love you more than i know i should

and i know that looks ugly to read

but i mean this for once

im going to shout

and youre going to pay attention

im going to talk to you honestly

but honestly the way you look

breaks me out in fevers and in sweats

i want to rip off both eye lids

so i cant even strain myself to blink

eventually im going to shrivel up

from lack of fluids

and this is the worse thing ive ever felt

as now that everyone else is all together

and now that ive never felt more apart

none of you will know just what it is youve got

until you feel like me

some things are better left unsaid

this conversation is how i got

the bullet hole in my head

i feel like youve be gone forever

I'm losing my edge.

Arguments are made for make-ups

Bloody brilliant this. A weekend where I can do what I feel like doing, and then a week full of packed revision - not so enjoyable. However I think this weekend is going to be a good 'un. My exam today went pretty swimmingly, even if I did make some unfortunate mistakes; UMS should straighten that all out for me. Good afternoon as well. Saw her, did nothing, and as per usual it felt like doing a lot of things. It was nice to say the least. I was quite quiet for once - it was and odd feeling, knowing what to say but deciding not to say it.

Right but away from that load of shite. Seeing Vidler for a spot of music tomorrow, going to try and ease the cogs a bit; get the ball rolling; insert other fairly mundane and very unnecessary puns. Hopefully I'll stumble and he'll make something wonderful this time. Highly doubtful as I'm more of a hindrance than an asset, but you never know, maybe we'll get lucky this time. I hope so - I want to do this properly and better than anything else I've ever decided to do.

Short one this time gents.

the air i breath might be fake

but the water i drink is real

and the way you look in a summer dress

is the most beautiful thing i have ever

wanted to get out of my head

im going to die but im going to look

fucking good when i do

but if you die with me

youre going to look awful

ill rip out your perfect curls

and mail them straight back to you

if itll make you feel

better the morning after

you said that we should lay here

while you put on your

favourite chapterhouse song

but i dont want to waste my time

on something i cant grip on to

so i turn off your speakers

and speak straight into your face

i just want to let you know

that i just need to be let go

im going to die but im going to look

fucking good when i do

but if you die with me

youre going to look awful

ill rip out your perfect curls

and mail them straight back to you

if itll make you feel

better the morning after

i want to gather up all this negativity

and stuff it down your throat

to bring back up your lunch

and make you slim and perfect again

like the girl that i fell in love with

at the tender age of seven

but fondness for her is replaced by

a cherishing for all the things

youre not ever going to be again

im going to die but im going to look

fucking good when i do

but if you die with me

youre going to look awful

ill rip out your perfect curls

and mail them straight back to you

if itll make you feel

better the morning after

you tell me youd break my neck

before youd let me get away from you

but i have to escape i have to run away

but not before i tell you this

the look on your face when i said

that i dont love you

was absolute fucking bliss

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nk6v6JYZ_OA -- repping that.

Must get to France so we can French kiss some French girls

Be smiley.

You're worrying me.

I know I'm boring but don't be bored.

Just find someone more exciting

and spend time with them. Please?

And so it continues...

Top Five EPs; she did so I did too, that's how life works.

Bon Iver - Blood Bank EP

"See how they resemble one another, even in that plastic little cover"

Deerhunter - Rainwater Cassette Exchange
"I forget tomorrow"

Animal Collective - Water Curses EP

"There's a gypsies face marked on my pill"

Grizzly Bear - Friend EP
"And I'll sleep, just put the pillows under my head"

Los Campesinos! - We Are Beautiful, We Are Doomed
"I seduced your ex-boyfriend, to help you get over him"

For the record here are my favourite songs of the decade: Limited to a lovely 25 and in no particular order as that would be the death of me:

ANIMAL COLLECTIVE - PURPLE BOTTLE

GIRLS - LUST FOR LIFE

LCD SOUNDSYSTEM - ALL MY FRIENDS
CYMBALS EAT GUITARS - WIND PHOENIX
PARENTHETICAL GIRLS - FORWARD TO FORGET

TITUS ANDRONICUS - TITUS ANDRONICUS

WHY? - CRUSHED BONES
XIU XIU - YOU ARE PREGNANT YOU, YOU ARE DEAD
JAPANDROIDS - WET HAIR

FRIGHTENED RABBIT - POKE

GORILLAZ - SUPERFAST JELLYFISH

FORMER GHOSTS - DREAMS
FOALS - HEAVY WATER
FANG ISLAND - DAISY
GRIZZLY BEAR - SOUTHERN POINT
DIRTY PROJECTORS - CANNIBAL RESOURCE
BEAR IN HEAVEN - LOVESICK TEENAGERS

THE ANTLERS - TWO

ATLAS SOUND w/NOAH LENNOX - WALKABOUT
BEACH HOUSE - APPLE ORCHARD

BRIGHT EYES - AT THE BOTTOM OF EVERYTHING

FOUR TET - ANGEL ECHOES

BROKEN SOCIAL SCENE - ALMOST CRIMES
BRAND NEW - YOU WON'T KNOW

DEERHUNTER - NOTHING EVER HAPPENED

A quick run-down.

So here it is; my top 15 of the decade - this took me a long time to decide on:

Explosions In The Sky - All Of A Sudden I Miss Everyone

"_____"

Bright Eyes - I'm Wide Awake It's Morning

''But failure's always sounded better"

Wolf Parade - Apologies To The Queen Mary

''I said pretend it's whales, keeping their voices down"

jj - No 2

''Whatever I do I'm ready to die"

Xiu Xiu - Knife Play

"Throw my head out the window, cement my feet into the dark"

WHY? - Elephant Eyelash

''There's no mound of clouds to lounge on"

Grizzly Bear - Horn Of Plenty

''You are my alligator"

Modest Mouse - The Moon & Antarctica

"Well it took a lot of work to be the ass I am"

Deerhunter - Microcastle

"I lose my voice, I know, but I've nothing left to say"

Cymbals Eat Guitars - Why There Are Mountains

"And I was green too with robust fucked envy"

Los Campesinos! - Romance Is Boring

"But this one sentence bludgeons me over the head"

Girls - Album
"Meet me in the sky tonight, we could fly away together"

The Antlers - Hospice
"I'm trying to dig you out but all you want is to be buried there together"

Animal Collective - Strawberry Jam
''Now I can't walk in a vacuum, I feel ugly, feel my pores"

Former Ghosts - Fleurs
"Speak Louder Speak Louder Speak Louder"

We are a romanian sound collage searching for the ghosts of past sinners

Right then - revision today, not bad, not good, but not bad - have to tomorrow to do a large amount of Physics tests; that way I'm all prepared eh? I should be more prepared already; I should of done some today, but I'm feeling sheepish today. Where does that phrase come from? Are sheep weird introverted shy creatures? Fuck no, you walk near a sheep and it just goes completely ape: 'BAA BAA NOTICE ME BAA BAA' - pretty much like me then, oh I just answered my question.

I'm finding Crystal Castles and their new album oddly transfixing in it's brash bold ugly noise and then soft but strong melodies - It just pulls me in. Not that I'd ever want to make music like that, too much weight on my shoulders if I did - I'd be expected to be this doom-filled angst ridden youth with an anxiety complex writing dark music to make myself feel better; my music isn't quite dark enough to fulfil that roll unfortunately.

Wrote something new and it bothers me - it's so much more straightforward than my other ones; it follows and obvious pattern, not in a cliché, ignorant way, just in a sensible way. I don't want to make sensible songs, I want to do something new and wonderful. But if it gets the go ahead from the big man then sure as hell I'll use it. His judgement is less cynical than mine. Maybe I should work on that - maybe I should embrace myself more; let me be me. Or I could do what I'm used to doing.

Ripping up the thought of ever doing anything good and tearing myself apart over it - then making her pick me up and put me back together; it's worked thus far, why shouldn't it work forever. Or until it ends. I hope it isn't soon, I don't want to see it coming over the horizon and hurtling towards me like some ominous fist ready to fuck up all my years of dental work.

Major break down today. Bigger than before. Much worse - Camera. Black spot. Every picture. Drove me to the point of threatening my camera that I'll rip it's little Sony bollocks off if it fucks with me again. But I'm fine now. As you can obviously tell.

Things are looking up.

I need to get a microphone and an effects pedal. Maybe if I can make my voice more of an instrument before I start singing any words I can have an impact on the sound I want to hear. And I want to surprise people, make them look at me differently//so I can finally look how I want to sound. And maybe, like I've wanted to for so long, I'll come across this sound that both contrasts and compliments what the Boys write and let me finally make something I can look on as something I want to show people to make them like me.

when you were gone i think i went blind

i couldnt see the mess youve made of me

everytime i tried to move i sighed

i dont know where im supposed to go

am i meant to go back to loving you

now that you've grown your breasts again

with one change is it all meant to change

rip out your throat so you dont bring it up

I feel like i should just sit here

in the empty husk of morning

and make friends with the spiders

and their meals

hiding away in the cobwebs

im going to let myself rot

just so no one sees me broken

youve shown me what to make of my life

i just want to go back to sleep

but not before ive killed my wife

bury her deep inside my ribcage

dont let anyone else see her

i shouldve done this years ago

im not letting this hurt show

im going to ruin your face

until youre unrecognisable

just so when they see me

they know you havent come home

and to think i used to really like you

but you never thought to like me

Night ladies. You aren't boring BECKY. You inspire me to no end.

I'm a deep sea diver losing air

I can't say sibilant consonants - I can't make them harsh enough, they come up out in this muddled hissing noise. But only sometimes. I dislike the sound but think the idea of it is a great one - it makes me more distinct, because I'm really not. Too standard for my own good really.

I want to stop everything right now - just stop days coming up and just sit and make some music; anything I want to, eventually I'm bound to stumble onto something brilliant; isn't that what people do? Plod along at a pace of their choosing, going unnoticed, uninteresting and ultimately unappealing until they find something wonderful that no one else has thought of yet. A sound, a phrase, a picture, a painting even just a look.

I want that. I want to make something I can get lost in - but I want to be able to hold on to it to, I guess that's the best way of describing my music taste.

Stuff that rips you the fuck away from everything - but lets you hold on while it does it.

But failures always sounded better

So a fairly dismal day I had today.
Nice little failing of my Maths AS exams to sprinkle it with more joy than I can handle on my cupcakes.

Sigh - oh well, bit of frenzied revision for other subjects should balance that out nicely.
To more important things;
I really out to learn to play my guitar to a higher standard, I want to be writing little melodies and things - and I can see them in my head but can't get them down on paper or on fretboard. This is a big annoying ugly problem of mine.

I want to so I can be more integral - I'm this sort of useless part at the moment, I can't help with anything really remotely useful; sure I'm writing, but words are the finishing touches - a good song is dictated by good music, it only then can be a great song - and I need to help do this, or I'm just going to feel like I'm stuck in the side-car while everyone rides the motorcycle - I went for something macho for once, it sounded better in my head.

But even more importantly. I just need to let go, one evening, one evening just to do whatever the fuck I want to do with whoever the fuck I want to do it with, I say but there is just one person. She must be bored with me by now - but I at least think she really likes me, and that's a start.

I should be more optimistic - and more carefree; I think too much about everything, about everyone and about nothing. Why it is I do this is in the hands of some doctor somewhere who I can never remember the name of, and who probably doesn't care about me anyway - so why should I care what he thinks. Off the pills, but back on the brain. Not fun - but mundane now.

Thankfully I am more nonchalant now - about my exams (not that I don't piss myself and rip any attempt she has made to cheer me up in a few swift and immediately regrettable phrases) going well or going badly as the case might be. That chord is back though - it actually rings in my head while I sleep, I taste it in my throat when I wake up; but it isn't the same one as before, this is my one, the one I want to write down and be happy about - fat fucking chance.

Yeahyeahyeah. Two As. A B. And a D. Now doesn't that just tickle your fancy.

She was pure mischief: a pixie.

'Get yourself over. It's heaven up here'

I don't agree with reading books in bits, just like how I don't agree with listening to an album in bits - I think it takes something away from it; time and effort has been made to put the tracks in that order so that they come one after they other and time and effort should be made to listen to them as such. The same can be said for books, the author has decided to tell the story in this way in this order and you should decide to read it like it's being told to you straight off - not in bits.

However I've had the unfortunate interruption of revision and stress and lack of time to read this book in that way; but that doesn't matter - this book is one of the few good things I've taken time to involve myself with recently. Go out, get it and fucking read.

Anyway regardless of my love for this book, I didn't have time to read it because I've been too busy revising for two exams I am most definitely definitely definitely going to fail. Maths and Mechanics. Nothing goes in, nothing comes out and I am left with a big fat zero.

And that's exactly what I want to do right now, nothing. I don't want to sleep, I don't want to sing or talk, I don't want to do anything at all.

Other than sleep next to her. That might make me content. And taking pictures of something in a way I can look back and smile on - not the usual crap.

Run the water 'till it scolds.

Silence is usually the best thing.
Won't help here.
I am the worst thing in the fucking world.
I want to rip my fucking tongue out.
I have never felt more enclosed.
I don't care if I feel better - as long as you do.

And I hate having to talk through a fucking screen.

You think over and over, "hey, I'm finally dead."

I think I'm becoming too morbid - I spit this stuff out regularly, and I'm usually not happy with it, it starts morbid always however, and only proceeds to become denser and scarier, oh well; at least I don't write about saving princesses from dinosaurs.

my soft hair stinks of piss

from my own drunken misses

and i guess i shouldve collapsed

somewhere else on somebody elses time

ive been drinking hard liquor all night

but i cant get my features quite right

going for that effortlessly fucked look

everyone else got pinned down

three years ago

and i guess ill have to stay here for a while

i wont look at you if you stop making me smile

ill leave finesse to someone smarter

but im a fucking cigarette

ill burn your lungs out

from your throat

with sick in my mouth i try kiss you

and you swallow every last little drop

you suck everything out from in me

and leave me to collapse

but i jump out your window and i fall

and i run run run on my own two feet

faster than you can walk from me

I stick three fingers in your mouth

and two fingers up your nose

maybe youll choke on me

so i can stopping choking on you

tread your face into the dirt

and push it so it fills the gaps

in your teeth

you tell me my life is over

i tell you im just getting started

ive got a lot more things to do here

i promise you theyre not going to hurt

you better watch where you put your tongue

im tired of all your sexual advances

the only thing im looking to do with you

is spit these words right into your eyes

grow out my hair to hide my face

i cant wait to break this space

and let you really know

how much you tore me ah

how much you tore me ah

how much you tore me ah

how much you tore me apart

I lost the file, so this is from memory.

Just cause I'm shallow doesn't mean that I'm heartless

Could be my bike there. If I could ride one.

SOOOO
Here we go. My first exam. Pissing myself I'm so excited. At least I can do more revision the hours before I have it. It should go ok; Chemistry is one of the subjects I'm more confident in - and if I feel like I'm going to do well then hey maybe I will. I said maybe - no promises.

Anyway I don't come here to talk about work, I come here to escape from it. That's something I'd like to do - escape from things, everything - go somewhere no one knows me, there are no prior opinions and everything looks ever so slightly less disastrous. That would be good. To get away from everything, everyone - except for her maybe, I can't escape what I don't want to.

Somewhere everyone looks like death. Haha I don't know why - but wouldn't that make everything so much more, well depressing. But you know, I think I would like that, if everyone else was depressed and dying maybe I would be happier and run around and be more alive, more of person and less of a hermit? Apparently in Sweden they are like that, almost decomposing all year round until that little glimpse they get of summer for a month - when they explode out of their skins and dance like they're all on heat, well most of them probably are.

But yeah Sweden.

Sounds pretty fucking perfect to me. I love winter - I love how pale people become this odd fluorescent colour, me included; I just like feeling cleaner, summer is a messy season, winter is cleansing and sterile. But Sweden in particular seems wonderful to me, the music that comes out is so obviously influenced by it's skewed, doom laden atmosphere that comes about from having winter all the fucking time - it's cold, distant and yet always arresting makes you pay attention. And shows how much they fucking love their summer. You get this perverse winter in all Swedish music - but then blossoming moments of summer, glimmers, not full scenes just glimmers.

So I'm going there, I've decided, I'm taking a gap year for a reason. I'll take a guitar (because hopefully I won't be a musical cripple by then), some sketch pads and a couple of hundred biros; probably nothing else. And hopefully I'll come back with scrawled drawings, writings and a fuck ton of inspiration. Hopefully. Or you know I could come back with a moustache and herpes. Either way we cool.

Anyway exam tomorrow looks set to be a brilliant hour and a half of joyous head scratching and mild panic attacks when I can't do at least half the questions.

Like I said. Here we go.

Oh one more thing - as someone felt the need to mention Spanish boys, I feel the need to express how fucking fit Swedish girls are. Too bad they're all blonde and blonde girls make me gag. Yes I'm not always this eloquent.

FUCK EVERYTHING, FUCK ME

You fucking heard you cunts.

i dont have any vital organs

just a tongue and my yellow shattered teeth

pick them up off the vomit covered toilet seat

put them back in my mouth to smile at you

Don't spend time with me you have far more important people to think about.
I'm nothing.