Life is so fucking hilarious all of the time.
Life is so fucking hilarious all of the time.
I’m running out of work again so I’m going to self publish my book on itunes. I’m just working out at the moment what sort of cover I’m going to have for it and how to format it to put on online stores. It is a dark novel, about the pursuit that drives us through life, and the paths that we slip down the along the way. It is called ‘The Vacancy’ and I’m going to sell if for like 10 bucks online. Aiming to have it up by March. So watch this space.
This year I will remember a lot of different things, like those times spent watching its always sunny in Philadelphia with a guy I don’t speak to any more, I met another bloke who was a fan of the show too, I don’t speak to him any more either, mainly because of distance and diverting drug habits. I will think of times passed, the times when I was in a place and didn’t particularly want to be their for the company, but for what their favourite habits were. I’ll recall when I’m sitting and looking at a pretty view one day, when the stars are dancing into the sunset as the yellow orb sinks into the sky and night begins; of all the times I cried. More often the time sitting in silence, staring at the porcelain walls of my bathroom. I wonder if I will keep the recording I made one night, for the rest of my life. I was high and I remember speaking intensely into the microphone on my computer my plans for the future and my opinion on the people scurrying around me in their life. I told myself at that point that I was definitely going to work at 8am the next day; and I brought those drugs from a sex shop. I’ll remember going to pickup a bag of meow meow caps with the guy buying them, I’ll call him Merrick for your sake, we held up the yellow caps in my apartment at 4pm on a Monday night, it was summer and sitting around was a sweaty task, and clunked them together in a toast before eating them. I remember Merrick road his bike and I took the tram, the 5pm peak hour office work demographic all gazed in a vacant disgust at the adidas wearing lost youth sitting on the tram. That night is a another story all together. I’ll think about sleeping for days, barely getting out of bed; yelling silent questions at the light bulb hanging from my ceiling, smoking four bongs at 9am in the morning and then getting a call that you’ve got the job and training day starts in half an hour, going there, and getting the job. I’ll remember being skinny, barely eating I reckon nearly every day for three months all I had apart from this and that was a hungry jacks meal in the evening. I remember not a single soul knowing these moments even existed, that’s what I felt like. I felt alone, more alone than anyone could ever possibly be; but in no way was I at all, I was constantly surrounded; apart from the fact I lived alone at the time. I’ll remember a good friend looking in my eyes one night and saying, ‘You’re gaunt as fuck mate,” and that I better slow down, I didn’t look healthy. I’ll always remember it staying with me, more than in the way I’ll remember my mother crying, or my dad looking in disappointment at me as I lay on the couch still high and crashing, and told him to leave my house on the day of my mums birthday. But I’ll remember making amends soon after, and coming to a moment some 8 months after this absolute disconnection from reality by a constant and high level of drugs, I started to feel normal again, but it took a while to silence that demon. Whatever it is hides in the shadows in your soul, not the ‘devil of addiction,’ – for me – ‘the devil of depression,’ It was like darkness had clawed into my wrists and ankles and dragged me away from the light; but I had just managed to hold onto the corner of my coffee table long enough. I’ll remember losing my mind for periods of time; delusions, disturbed interpretations – then considering the true idea of what even exists, and the bewildering fact of being on a journey completely isolated; but surrounded – but there is barely a holding hand, a thin grasp if anything at all. I’ll remember wasting time feeling sorry for myself, over a love that prematurely ejaculated and then another one that fell out of the sky like a shot down plane; in all honesty – I’ll always remember that they both did. I will never forget, the smile of my friend Chris and the wink of my friend Rhys, the slap on the knee of my friend Sammy – the unconditionally loyal words of Rorey, Ollies smile, and how he’d say Bruv – watching Marco get more incredibly paranoid the more joints he smoked, the long conversations with Geoff about everything and nothing – how we suffered together. I’ll remember a blur of clubs and parties, trying juice at Tramp in a couch – high on Ketamine, speed and MDMA, I’ll just remember some of the horrible come downs, ones where I wouldn’t move for days. I’ll probably one day think about seeing many friends and people I know struggling with their ice addictions. It was a good year though, my brother turned fourteen, and I’d do anything for him – it’s a strange thing to watch him turn from a kid to an adult, it makes time seem as if it goes past in fast forward. I’ll remember feeling sore for the friends I lost contact with or had falling outs with. I’ll remember wanting to kill myself and not knowing why, and not knowing how to connect. I’ll remember failing uni and being unemployed. I’ll remember getting out of a rut, with the help of my family and friends; but most of all, and I don’t want to sound selfish; but with the help of myself. The help of my strange belief that came about out of this nowhere blackness; that its all about the ups and downs, and the world keeps spinning round and round. Love.
I been listening to a lot of early 90′s hip-hop at the moment, especially De La Soul really digging the album Stakes is High. Isn’t it a beautiful feeling when music or lyrics or a book, a film or television show really describe how your state of mind is, and it makes you feel alright, because someone else is going through whatever you are going through. Sometimes when things like this I try to look at it like a handbook; but it always fails, because nothing that has happened to you has quite happened to anyone else in the same way; well at least we tell ourselves this to hide from the beige backdrop hidden behind all the colour in life.
Suddenly a moment passes into years and you are wondering where you are and can hardly remember how you got their; must have been a good ride, bumped your head on the trip? I have, if you’re a human being most likely you have too. I asked myself the other day if I was really living; or more so considered this question.
What is really living? Taking full control of every moment and draining all goodness from it at every opportunity in the hope that all these singular beautiful moments are all working towards a moment when everything explodes like a pinata full of destiny and goal, and we all fight over the lollies lying on the ground, stomping on hands and wresting over the chocolates with the caramel centres; but instead of lollies their some sort of physical object representing fulfilled dreams.
I think dreams are very important in maintaining sanity. Well for me at least.
It’s so easy to be cynical. It’s so easy to sit back and watch the world and criticize everything about it; I do this alot, but the throne I sit upon and do so from is not made from gold.
I find life very confusing and full on, I watch the people around me swirling around to some sort of pre-ordained goal that starts all over again with a clean slate tomorrow or five minutes later. I used to really want to interact with other people and give up things that exist in my mind that are better out in the open. Recently I feel diminished. I feel like everything has suddenly slowed down and stopped and stabilized.
I struggle to make sense of this flatness, it troubles me that life is supposed to be like this. Not just the fact of ‘work, mate, eat, sleep, repeat, till you die,’ that shit is simply necessary, but the details are becoming beige. I feel like I go through the motions of living, like its part of some big play and I’m covering for this actor that forgot to rock up to his gig; I’m having trouble with my lines and the plots confusing the hell out of me.
To make sense of the confusion I write it on a blog, as if to ask the world this question and hope that it replies to me. But I’m left with no reply, so I try to forget the question.
I read back and despise every word I’ve written in the post.
I’ve been carrying around a torn and tattered and scribbled all-over bound book more religiously than I think I ever have before.
Its filled with words; rhymes, scribbles, phrases – all directed at my total and utter bewilderment that I find myself in everyday when I look through the air and into the world.
What is this place?
Well I know that I exist right here in this couch, with this table and carpet on the floor front of me. It seems though that much more bearing is placed on the fake-fucked-digital ‘realm’ that we spit our ignorant and blind – very commonly naive views/opinions on others/opinions on ourselves/half masked cries for help/attention.
Its sad that with every advancement in this type of online/digital/facebook/fuckbook kind of technology its like we as people actively take a whole step backwards away from communicating in the very real way of speaking with eyes fixed on eyes.
It creates apathy. It fucking advocates it actually. Feeding our pathetic brains just enough to be satisfied with the information we have guzzled up, but remaining just hungry enough to bite into another 6 thousand 140 character status updates from your 500+ group of fuckwits who bought into this bullshit just like you did.
All it says to me is
People will watch with smouldering cigarettes as the world burns
And probably light their marlboros or benson and hedges or whatever the fuck you smoke of the flames,
Whilst staring in awe as everything crumbles
Just like we all did nothing to preserve it when we could.
Don’t take my sentiments as bleak, but as an honest interpretation at whatever the fuck you are doing society!
Regular full songs on my soundcloud too