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