Childhood Memorabilia

The roofs of Central Christchurch is my special place. There's a bottle at my bedside that I found there, down a hole in the building, one with lots of windows but no real way down. it's more than one hundred years old.

In the weekend I went down a new route, because an alarm has been installed down my usual one, And I found a trapdoor to an old attic that clearly hadn't been used for anything for a very long time. There was an inch of dust on all the floors. And a massive old generator. And an elevator shaft, that without my torch I would have fallen down. It almost killed me, so I pissed down it.

I was beginning to get scared of ghosts, so i was beginning to leave.

On a wooden beam there was a circular gap in the inch thick dust, a precise, fresh one. And in the middle of it was a hairpin.

I don't know if whoever left it there would approve of me taking it, but i did, and I put it on my blazer. Because that kind of thing is really beautiful.

Maybe one day I'll be down there, just leaving, and my light will shine on the hairpin's owner. And I sure hope they are as beautiful as their hairpin. And I sure hope that I am as well.

-

Dash Snow:

Creating Language.

I want to create things. Theatre. Photos. But all I have created in my life is thought.
I sit and I think, quite well, if that's even possible, but it doesn't make anything. And I want to do that.

I write my thoughts down in books, so far I have filled two with mostly theatre orientated ideas. They are all huge in scale and ambition, innovative, avant-garde. The kind of thing that would stay with you for the rest of your life. But they are all ideas in a book.

And I don't get too make plays often. Once a year at best. So how am I to bridge the gap between my thoughts and my world?

It's like a switchboard has been flicked off for the past year. I don't do crazy things, i don't lust after whatever girl is in my line of sight, I don't care about your opinion. The only thing that has exited me, really exited me, for a long long time, has been coming up with an idea, and writing it down in my book. I might be lying in bed, all these threads weaving in and out of my head, and then all of a sudden a few of them will come together. And I'll write it down. It's not much but It's been my drug for a while. And it feels so good when i go 'AH FUCKIN' HA! I'VE GOT ANOTHER ONE!'

I'm always an addict, it the only thing that changes is what I'm addicted to. It could be a drug, or some kind of sexual perversion, or it could be ideas, it could be learning the piano. It could be taking a photo, it could be getting a grade in maths, it could be a friend, it could be apple bobbing, it could be silence. I never stay addicted to something for very long, maybe a week or two at most, so when something gets me high for a while I start getting desperate for it to stay. But then i just get addicted to my desperation, which fades like the rest of them.

But this theatre thing, it's sticking round. And I am starting to trust it, but I don't want to sit and write things down forever, until I have to get a real job and my life is lost. I want to slick back my hair and wear a big long coat like they did in the 20's, or be a Gay Cowboy. Whoops.

-

People relate to each other in the same way. Largely. and they all feel the same thing. I can write something down and Everybody will understand what I'm talking about. And i don't think that's good (I do have an opinion). I think that language is a barrier to communication. And so is logic. They don't allow you to express what you truly feel. that's the problem. Language is shared logic, so that's all you can do with it, share logic.

Two people destroying something together, or three people fucking, or four people sitting in silence, means more to me than talking about how much you love someone, or screaming how good something feels. I would rather that we didn't talk at all, not unless we have to, leave talking for lawyers and accountants. I want to just feel things. New things. And it's not that I want to be alone, I want to feel them with as many people as possible. I want to feel happy with someone.

I want to feel happy with someone.

-

Some photographs that ended up on my panel...


Yes.

A social boy.

No original content still, I guess I'm feeling uninspired, there's nothing but spite in my bones - so I'll post others insparations for you to dislike. Did you see what I did there?

Anyhoo, if I grow up and make shit like this I will be a happy man? Maybe. Maybe I need God? Maybe not.

You know, there's this whole thing about youth and the rejection of youth, but nobody seems to care who you are.

Like that whole rebellion movement - you were so badass - and anyone that was still stuck in the self-depressed movement was behind; and to be avoided. And now, reject rock and roll and just don't give a fuck? Yeah well you'll make that a movement too. And woe to anyone that doesn't belive in your anti-movement movement.

I mean I guess in a way I'm joining the bandwagon, it's the same stuff I'm saying after all. But I reject your cattle-wolf mentality. It is no better than your last phase.

Do you get what I'm getting at?

I say a lot of things online that i wouldn't say otherwise, and I like that.

Yeah so anyway if I end up being called a visionary I'll be happy? Probably.

And by the way the blogs are good. I don't comment much because i can't but I read and I enjoy.

Thank you Nam, thank you Jonny and thank you Siobhan.

Oh and I want to be more social.

Exept is citisising my fellow movementers the way to go about that? No, it's not.

You see, I've always spoken my mind, and people have always loved that about me. Exept now not so much. They don't like what I say. I'm negative and deconstructive and often arrogant. And I'll tell you that underneath I'm a nice person when really, underneath that, I'm a wannabe manipulative.

But underneath that I'm a nice person. And I've just developed this image of what other people think of me that is unsavory and unwholesome. Really people think I'm a nice, slightly awkward boy that has a mind like a wafting needle.

-

There you go. Thats my whole soul at the moment. Does it tell anyone anything?

Everything you can think.

Robert Wilson made 'The life and times of Joseph Stalin' before he made ' A letter for Queen Victoria'. Aaaand that's good because he had moved on from twelve hours of slowly moving images, 'A letter For Queen Victoria' is sup

About midnight, or perhaps just a tad later, I can go outside and give Kai an apple. Thats because at night he is afraid. afraid of a lion, of a zebra, or just afraid. I love him at night, and he seems to apreciate my company.

When daytime comes I get up late and go out to see him, but it's not the same. In fact I can't fucking stand him. He just walks away from me. We have a mutual agreement only to see each other at night, when he is vulnerable, and I can guide his thoughts in the darkness.

I need a computer like ThAt.

Its sooo frustrating. And they cost lots of money!

Ah!

Stanley would have found a way! Yeah,

Theivery in the middle of nowhere? I don't think so.

Little Ms Lolita

If I am out of touch, it is only a happier form of out of touch than your depressed out of touch? Can I say that? Or do you own what I say just as much as you own what everyone else says?

When the fuck did a controlled tounge become a right of passage?

I had my depressed posts period, and now you EXPECT me to put up those SHIT-KICKER 'my life = misery' posts, just because it fits your spiralling normality.

Your velvet; regular, high-achieving rebellion.

Steven Fry -OR- Nelson Mandella, try being ONE.

Everyone end up bothered but me

I am cleaning out my english folder. Mr Ruge said I did jack shit in in english, I got my report. Thats not true, I did more than in most classes, I also did a few odd doodles when To Kill a Mockingbird studies were at their lowest:


Mr Blue,
In the nude
Spies Mrs Tee and Dee
Getting rude,

Thats crude

-

Wordless love

It’s a lovely day for dreaming
Of birds and blue and hair,
Though I’m never one for skipping,
I’m dancing through the air

It’s so bittersweet
But oh so sweet

The nectar of my love
Has been sucked dry from the stale milk in my lungs,
Though it is hard to believe
Only now I cry,

I’ve never been happier
Happier without love!

Rarely,
But finally now
I wish I could relate to you in French words!
To think I found myself cold
Because ice don’t warm blood
A ballad for all the lives I’ve broken
Is a snowstorm of love?

So now I’m,

Sitting in cafès
Avoiding all my family
Until I want things
Then getting them to notice me
I’m so elated
I speak in loves own words

Watching a seagull
Level with the windowpane
Makes me dream of
Movie love in the rain

It’s always bitterly
Bittersweet
I am loving love for words of love

-

The situation of the Maori era


Up north they are,
Not for me
I’m Classic White,
Egg white,

You see me because I’m splattered
In a bowl,
With your milk;
I don’t care
So I stop,

-

Blackbird Pie

His lightening fingers grace the page
forever now his own
A bleessing,
dnd a hurt,
The buttons come alive

First the sizzors of anarchy
cutting throught the silk
No!
First the cry of argument
Over forever now,
spilt milk

"You cannot keep me in your arms!
I wail
and I'll slutter
The way a genius should!"

His only regret yet
His skilless rage
Their ignorance proven
He didn't learn to sticth

Fucks it up,
Good and proper,
the way a genius should

Yes... Anyway, Someone told me I was a sex god today, as a joke, but it's still bullshit.

Adobe master collection CS3

Thats the one,

Jack and Aya get to a place where they are lying on top of each other, Aya sitting in between Jack’s legs with thin cigar, Jack lying down, when Isabel walks in to tell Jack her answer, she stops and looks astonished:

Aya: Helloooo…

Isabel walks out

Aya to Jack: I am just so righty tighty aren’t I?

Pussycat I bet you wouldn't even know what it tastes like, you ain't a lesbian yet

My blog seems to be a dump for shit poems lately, well a while ago, I haven't posted in ages, so this post shall start off as such:


Over The Rainbow

Somewhere over the rainbow
Way up high
There's a land that I heard of
Once in a lullaby

Somewhere over the rainbow
Skies are blue
And the dreams that you dare to dream
Really do come true

Some day I'll wish upon a star
And wake up where the clouds are far behind me
Where troubles melt like lemondrops
Away above the chimney tops
That's where you'll find me

Somewhere over the rainbow
Bluebirds fly
Birds fly over the rainbow
Why then, oh why can't I?

Some day I'll wish upon a star
And wake up where the clouds are far behind me
Where troubles melt like lemondrops
Away above the chimney tops
That's where you'll find me

Somewhere over the rainbow
Bluebirds fly
Birds fly over the rainbow
Why then, oh why can't I?

If happy little bluebirds fly
Beyond the rainbow
Why, oh why can't I?

Great song, anyhoo. I haven't posted lately because there doesn't seem to be much wrong with me. No, not really. Drama was good, not fantastic, but good. The movie is- AHA!

The movie. Verbs, I don't know when it will be coming out, just that it will. Sometime, when we have found lots of kids that are prepared to get naked on camera. I might have to cut that scene out. Or I guess we could just take a feild trip to india and get some little prostitutes to film with. Thats terrible, I should delete that.

Anyhoo, I suck at screenplays. Its because of all the dialougue? Because I can't talk to people in real life. Thats it. Anyhoo it is very slowly coming along. Its rubbish though, I just finiashed writing a scene where Jack rips his eyes out, and its rubbish.

Really.

All about me this post is.
And I'm even self-rightious enough to make jokes about five year old indian whores, twice now.

I'll shut up.

No I won't. Everyone sucks, they have all turned into such cunts lately. Well some of them turned sooner than others, and some were always like they are, but there are lots of people who have become really bitchy all of a sudden, to everyone, and everyone has to one or another degree. Even me I would suspect, but i couldn't see it because I'm me.

If you're reading this and you happen to have turned into a bitchy cunt stop it.

I still love everyone though, well not everyone, but everyone I ever did I still do! Love you all!\

<3

Endlessly

My glasses on,
I’m helmet head
Shaking all that
you have ever said,
Though your skin
will always call me,
into paradise.

Of course its worst
When I’m in bed
I rub my face
Till my eyes are red,
I sing for truth!
And you chorus boldly,
Love me do you?

But now,
At last,
I’m beautiful;
To me.

But wait!-

A hug is nothing more
than a sample peace
You gave to me
to seek release
What a slut!
A whore!
In the felled rings
of a crucifix!

I tried,
and you let me go
Above cupid’s stars,
and my farthest throw.

STOP! (I need to know how)

I guess I could move friend groups, I'm sure the Thomas-Jonny group would be happy to see me... The Robert-Harrison posse would get used to me... At a stretch I might even be welcomed into the Tiffany-Sarah group, the certainly seen to be the friendly type... And then after a while when everyone has forgotten about me (or I have forgotten about everyone?) I could return with hugs and kisses all round.

-

Other people (from my observation) seem to do that kind of thing all the time. When one group gets sick of them they move on to another, and maybe another, and then come back. Like they get bored with their friends. I never get bored with my friends, but I think sometimes they might get sick of me. Maybe I should disappear forever. Maybe not.

But anyhoo, something has to shift. Change. And I feel too much still. I need to stop that. And I get really worried WHEN I MUSTN'T BECAUSE THERE IS NO POINT!!! I don't even know what I'm worried about, just that I am. And I don't want enemies. Or people not being allowed to talk to me, or people not wanting to talk to me.

-

You lied. Again. I hate it when you lie to me, you most of all, because I trust you, and I give so much of myself (if not practically at least emotionally) to you, and I have done, and I give you so many second chances and every time you do the same thing and the you have the nerve and self-righteousness to tell me its my fault. Like I've wronged you and you have done nothing to me, when I have given so much to you! I am a different person now than I was when I set out. A miserable one. And don't think for a second that you are innocent because you are guilty most of all. For lying to me for so many months. And then lying after that. And now still lying. And you expect me to just put up with you. I can see why you prefer online relationships to real ones, and its because you don't have to care about your other, think about their feelings or experience their pain when you screw them up. And you can lie to them. I'm just guessing, but I think I'm right. I am prepared to forget, not forgive, I will be your friend forever if you want me to. But don't lie to me, and tell me if you want (or don't want) something, because I am sick of your disrespect, to anyone, let alone me! Right now you make me sick. But I am your friend.

I feel sick. On my birthday. This is the worst birthday I have ever had, I want to make myself happy again. And tempting myself isn't the way to do it. I need something to take my mind off things until I am prepared to face my anguish...

Any ideas?

The only thing that doesnt remind me of you, are the tears i shed because of you....

JUST CALL ME A BOY AND SHOVE A KNIFE IN MY HEART!

Bitch Ugly Faces

Kill Me. Please.
You who has the power to be rich
Like I was rich

Yes you who loves to make me run
Without a single sponsor over my head
For a burning medallion

Yes you! Kill. Me.
Please.
Before you let me live for you

For I live to love
The glasses you craft
For your own disguise

And I love to live
In a self-sadistic hope
Of a you-me (dream come true)

But I love a ship that was made to sink
But for a single lonely boat
With you on it?!

Though now you go!
As high as a bird!
Leaving me here

You love to leave
My bitch ugly face
In your dust

The last post wasn't for the masses, so this is...

I have been sad today. And I am finding it REALLY hard to look at girl from the healthy and personality angle rather than physical attractiveness! I can see why guys do it, its much more natural... Though it doesn't make much sense, cosidering I am not out in the world purely for sex, why would I be looking at attractivity anyway? It doesn't really matter does it!



Sigh, but I am trying. All you skinny good looking girls out there are screwed (If you want me, it seems they don't).



(full stop)



I am over feeling bad. Horrible. I want to climb through a chain link fence into a school and run away when a teacher is spotted.



Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Stop going insane Blair!

I want to start again, to be reborn without all my emotional stuff that has built around me! So I can make choices that won't hurt me, and listed to apparently wise advice. But than that might also mean I wouldn't know the people I love now, and i don't want that. I am rambling again. But i wish i had mever set out along this path!

Please don't shag me, I'll trap you into making a promise

If I wanted to get laid I could. I reckon. But I would have to be the worlds biggest prick. Issac style. And be really slutty and piss people like me off. But I don't really want to get laid. Not really. I would much prefer to have a relationship that works and fulfils me.

Is that weird? Not to want sex so much? If I made a list of guys I know and then went down it I bet nine out of ten would be desperate for a fuck. And the same nine would probably turn down a serious relationship. Well, eight out of that nine maybe. But still. What is it about sex that is so desperate?

That's not to say I would turn it down. I mean sure if some good looking chick sauntered up and started being really flirty and horny I'm hardly going to go "Fuck off you horny bitch, you just want me for sex" am I? But still I would want some security of a nice personality and a continuing relationship, after the sex. Unless they were REALLY good looking.

The I am Writing Verbs Decision

I seem to have fullfilled the prophecy I wrote with that movie idea I had, verbs, where my love destroys itself. Mybe I should write the book. I shall.

Many thanks to Siobhan for commenting, even if I wasn't fully sure whether you were taking about the post or yourself, but I thought I was talking for myself for a while there.

Thank you. To all who are there for me.

'Oh he made my blood just burn! I flipped do far I thought that I would not return!' (Get him back - Fiona Apple)

I don't know why I wanted to talk to you in the first place!

But I did.

This is like email isn't it (but one way)

Maye that's how I like it, or maybe not. And (just as things POP!!! into my head) when I said that I couldn't live without you, did I mean it? Really? Surely not, because that would mean I would die - but so far I am not to sure. Maybe it just takes time. Siobhan said months (but she has _ (<- That much) experience), but how long has it been? Month? Months? I can't remember the date - today or the day.

But (I don't know if you have noticed yet, you might not have (Truly!)), when I hear an angry tone, or unsympathising attitude (though I should be used to that by now), it really upsets me. And I mean really upsets me, for days, or weeks if it is allowed to.

I am a very fragile person, by many peoples doing - including myself, and I snap. I aren't depressed or anything, but I have similar symptoms (is that possible?). I am dragging on a bit so I'll stop.

Please be nice! I can't live without you!

I opened my eyes

While you were kissing me once, more than once

And you looked as sincere as a dog

Just as sincere as a dog does,

When it's the food on your lips with which it's in love

I bet you could never tell

That I knew you didn't know me that well

It is my fault you see

You never learned that much from me

Oh you silly stupid pastime of mine

You were always good for a rhyme

And from the first, to the last time, the signs

Said 'Stop' - but we went on whole-hearted

It ended bad, but I love what we started

It said 'Stop' - but we went on whole-hearted

It ended bad, but I love what we started

I took off my glasses

While you were yelling at me once more than once

So as not to see you see me react

Should've put 'em, should've put 'em on again

So I could see you see me sincerely yelling back

I bet your fortressed face

Belied your fort of lace

It is by the grace of me

You never learned what I could see

Oh you silly stupid pastime of mine

You were always good for a ride

And from the first to all the last times, all the signs

Said 'Stop' - but we went on whole-hearted

It ended bad, but I love what we started

It said 'Stop' - but we went on whole-hearted

It ended bad, but I love what we started

(a song)

The opposite of Life is death? Is it? I would like to think so, the Bible would like to tell me so, but really?

What is life? Concious... So the oppisite of that is unconcious right?

Is that death? No. Well maybe, well, actually, I dont know...

Exiting stuff! Anyhoo I wonder because if I hate life will death really stop it? Fix it? (I'm not saying I want to kill myself.. Life can be in many dimensions...)

I don't know if it will... So how do I stop conciousness?

I dont know...

Fargmented aren't I?

Or exited.

I want to be happy!

NOW, not in a few months time!

But how?

Tell me...

'This is the last time I'll abandon you!

This is the last time I'll forget you!

I wish I could'

I am a miserable fucker aren't I? One would think, with all the nice things I have to say about other people, I could say some wonderful things to myself that would make me feel better, but no, miserable fucker. I am miserable.

However within my misery I wonder at life, it has become an obsession lately (which is better than death like last time I guess), how people are made for it, and display it in everything they do. 'Life in every breath' And how people are formend, how beautiful they are, everyone not just the good looking ones, and how wierd that is! That lumps of fleash and bone and gristle can be beautiful... The most beautiful thing of all.

In fact its killing me.