Lovingly OppositeWhen she goes right, I go -
EmotionsI don't really ever love someone.I need people.I desire people.I hold people close.But I don't love people.I don't really ever hate someone.I loathe people.I dislike people.I hold people far away.But I don't hate people.I sit on the precipice.The edge in between.I cannot commit to you.I cannot cannot commit to you.I'm in the middle, settled at zero; where negative infinity is hate and positive is love.I'm resting on the centre of a balancing beam.I'm not honestly really waiting.I'm not truthfully entirely ready either.I'm that neutral colour grey.So sickly and dark contrast of brain matter, not the beating red.I think, not feel.But I am. And I will be.I don't really ever exist.I drift.I wander.I hold my consciousness on a leash.But I don't really ever exist.
A SCREECH OF -in-HUMANITY-?-,"Racism ends when there's only us!"
PerhapsAlan was the type of person who never looked at his feet as he stepped onto an escalator. And never once have I seen or heard of him stumbling since I’ve met him. I do not know if this imparts extreme grace or an unparalleled ability to deceive, but I don’t suppose I care much either way. With eyes that changed colour as frequently as the weather in Australian spring, Alan wasn’t so much my friend as a person I knew intimately. Oh, we never spoke physically, he and I – at least not face-to-face. However, I would say I knew him better than he knew himself, though that wasn’t as hard as one would think. For out of everyone who could recall the smile in his voice as he recited references of his dearly beloved book collection, it was only I who knew why he took his life. And it was me whom his suicide note addressed, under the title of “I never knew how much until I couldn’t know anymore.”Alan was the type of person whom expressed more throu
AromanticAching for something I cannot feel.
NocturnalI do not advise being nocturnal. Whilst it may seem fun at first, actually trying to sleep at a decent time once you have made the transgression is all but impossible.You will fall asleep with the sun shining through your window and birds a'whistling in your ear. At 6am in the morning. But before that there is so much more.You will spend your time rolling back and forth, adjusting your blankets and pillows, wondering if maybe you're just thirsty, playing with matches, writing with burn-out matches on the wall, drawing things in the dark, writing in the dark, you will be struck by many fantastic ideas that do not involve sleeping, and you most certainly will not sleep no matter how many times you yawn and yell inwardly at your brain to shut up.You will begin to talk to yourself and reminisce about things that never happened. You will be nostalgic over the most mundane things that happen to you each day. You will think, "Maybe I'm just hungry," and go and get something to eat. You wil
The end of a relationship and beginning of anotherHate left me. Love found me.
My Social LifeFamiliar faces,everywhere.Nobody I know.
The Heterophobic"I'm not gay," said his boyfriend.
Tragedy"A tragedy...." They whisper. I survived.
Awkward"She has your eyes!""...Shes adopted..."
Pun(ishment)Tickle torture: not a laughing matter.
CrowBarGot hammered.Nailed her.Husband saw.
Alone, at night, in my flat, watching sad filmsI swear I heard you.Odd.
Writing AdviceThe key to building suspense is
Decisions,decisions"Last option left....""It isn't right."
OddOdd, he and I became we.
LifeFrom idealismTo cynicismTo realism
The Path of EnlightenmentThe hardest road leads to yourself.
LoveExpose your heart.I'll give mine.
Loneliness At 4:03am Tick.Can't. Tock. Tick. Sleep. Tock.