Thursday night

It's Thursday night, we've brushed our hair, put on our black t-shirts, so we slam the door closed. The three of us scurrying along the litter-strewn pavements, past the many Christmas decorations that are still there a month after Christmas- mainly glittery, shiny or snowy things, possibly sprayed or just dangled, past the graffiti "Hi you queer" that's scrawled tempestly onto the concrete, past the excessive ugly tacky figurines that you just know the people who live there have just placed them there to show everyone that they have class, and then round the corner, past the abrasive kids, past the scrapings of dog faeces, spread on the pavement like sunflower spread on toast, the lights are red, we get to the other side of the road and step onto the anti-people stuff- suddenly we are anti-people too, the pointy ground infiltrating our minds and not just our feet. Then onto the tarmac again, cards stuck in machines giving us precious paper and beeps. The bus, the bus. Dash across another road to join a queue for the 101. Slump into some seats, my head rests on Paul's, and I feel really stressed. Wil sits alone, until a girl gets on the bus and sits next to him, and after a while asks him what bus this is. Press the rubbery line, fight our way past some people, and jump off the bus. Walk a few metres, and get to the club, realize we're a bit early and there's only about 10 people there. We got the wrong bus- managed to somehow catch the earlier one. It's cold. We order toasties and cider and Nukey brown and possibly some more cider? I don't know what Wil is drinking. We sit in the corner. Later, Ash and Robbob arrive (separately), and get into discussions about sex on the holadeck and pissing on the holadeck, and I'm bored, so i look out the window, at the billboards. Adverts only seem to advertize websites nowadays, it's all gone screwy. One says "Totally change your life" but I realize I don't want to totally change my life, I like some of it, maybe just like to change little bits, so maybe I shouldn't search for a job on their website. Pictures of cars, small cars... I'm having some kind of conversation in my head, and I'm enjoying it.

Nuclear

I heard the nuclear sirens today, the stretchy whirring, the panic..
No wonder vacuum cleaners used to mess with my head when I was younger.

Scatterford

As the neon-like clot was losing its attitude, we sat behind a water-filled crater, created by a small planet crashing into the earth. We read Pixel Juice to each other, fast weird urban fantasies, which contrasted with the sparseness of the landscape- a melee of patchy grass, infrequent trees, roaming cows.

Weather

Nowadays I wake up, pull my curtain a bit, and look up at the sky. It's mainly always white. A white sky. Variable weather doesn't happen outside my window.

At home

I look in the mirror, and my hair is mussed and curly from the rain, but my eyes, they have a strange expression in them, it's a look of wonder, of awe. They're not looking at me in the mirror, they're looking somewhere far beyond the mirror, not even at me. I'm out of my head again.

Addiction

Airbrained auntie
dusted parsley
grape giggles parfait
gravelled highlighted day

Going to bed at 7.30am

The sky was bathed in turquoise, and a chalky flag floated above me. The charged cornflake air was ready to fire, but I was ready to sleep. Progressions were no longer needed, I wasn't needed, not now, not ever really. I was once a search engine, enter a query into me, except now I feel like a hysteron proteron, a jeopardy dream, rather gone, and a monster gift-of-the-sun.

Enjoy - Ice cold

I've been drinking warm ones lately, just to get that taste, that rush, as quick and easy as possible. But suddenly, I remembered coldness. I held it to my chest as I got in the lift, could feel my heart beating right against the metal. I tip it up, and there's the icey oil fixating on my wriggling tongue. I can feel it move right through me, as if it were live liquid, an aspartame lizard. There's three on the desk, but only one is animated, the rest just bear the brown scars around the hole. My whole mouth is buzzing, as if the liquid were spirited and full of popping candy. I burp gently, and the syrup has become poison, it's affected my body, I shiver, I smile.

(no subject)

I am whispering in translucent tones.

The pavements were muddied with crushed leaf corpses.

Kitchen

The kitchen was filled with abandoned ponds, where the fish are all dead and instead there are just half-smoken cigarettes and green algae pasta floating amongst the yellow grime, the plughole bunged up with dead unidentifiable creatures.

Thunder and fractals

I look out the window to try to see the thunder and lightning and participate in their glorious noises and flashes, yet I get distracted by the rain, and all I can see is the raindrops. I press my face against the window, and see the light from Monte reflecting and causing the droplets to become almost like tiny fractal-like things. The storm doesn't seem real, as if it were a band, who on seeing live seem too perfect or unreal, or you just can't get into the swing of things.

Thursday: the knife remix

I spent a disaligned jaw. My purchase, a banned voice. It tells me of darkness, of knocking, a scourge of sweat still dripping. It drags me through the depths of staring. Refusing to participate, I find a nice knife. The voice shatters against it, leaving so much noise in my head. A thirst I've not felt before, a shaking.

(no subject)

Teenage hobby: skyscraper dreams softly died.

September 2000 - 'Remember earth clearly'

I'm worried that there's no future, if there's no fuel.
I opened my door, thinking about smelling the future, and all I could smell was wood. Is wood the future in its archaic way?

Watching the news about bread rationing and whatever made me think that it's finally the year 2000, just everyone has delayed it by 9 months or so. Beautiful, I tell you.

grazesandbruisesmazesandmuses

Grazes and bruises
Mazes and muses
Grazes and bruises
Mazes and muses
Grazes and bruises
Mazes and muses

me or you?

Which one was real? Was it me or you? I knew one of us was real, but which I never knew. Who was real, who was real? Either me or you, I knew. Conflicting realities, only one conscience, the non-existence of constants, you flew, you flew.

An exuberant iota of evolution

A lone purple crocus amongst the wet grass.

The clouds looked like splodges of clotted cream being sucked up in a twister.

roads

My lifesource plummeted as I walked down the road. I plunged into despondency as the pavements became closer. I scraped all the skin off my body as I slithered along the dirty pavement, bituminous jewels embedded in my blackened mind.

shoo

I feel like I'm a little kid again with velcroed trainers, since I can't tie laces, trying to undo them in assembly without making too much noise.

void sky

Skyberries and voidmelons, or voidberries and skymelons?

a different sky

Fell upon the last sky. Missed the fields, the fitting sleep, and the darkness. The trees together, absorb this creature. Melancholy moves past the notebook. Whoosh.

Cloud farm

1. Capture the clouds and teach them to kiss.
2. Do they like to kiss bats? Train a stone to communicate with the clouds to find out.
3. Don't capture rainbows, they're troublesome and hard to look after.
4. Don't set fire to the clouds.
5. It's a 24 hour a day hobby.
6. If the clouds form into fingerprint type shapes, keep your fingers away from them - they think you're God

Crayon swirls

Your head rushes as you stand up and think of the smell of crayons.

Things I shouldn't have talked about in a job interview

1. UFOs
2. Dead squirrels
3. Poems
4. Army training
5. Skateboards

life?

I feel vacant, as if the cipher was my soul, as if the cinders were my thrall. The cobweb breathes against the leafy patterns, grey on pale blue, heaving like vex, floating above the pink ringpulls, damaging the empty space with something so fragile.

Bath

I'm still not quite sure why there is a tin of Heinz macaroni cheese in the bath.

Media generated trend

My life, a non-beautiful menagerie of dull vegetable verity. I lie here, my eyes bleary, staring at the bumpy woodchipped cream walls that are acned with blu-tac, dotted with stones, and draped with gold thread. My swollen pulsating belly presses against the purple sheets, my bruised legs fluctuantly twitch and my mangled feet dangle over the end of the bed. The pink Carebear, with a rainbow on its stomach, known as 'Cheerbear', looks at me scornfully and regretfully. I grab it and hold it close to me. It's Monday.

What did you do today?

Today I managed to eat over 10 varieties of vegetable in one meal.

Freshers in the zoo analogy

Watching freshers is like going to the zoo. You look inside the cage but you can't see anything. Suddenly, you hear a roar, but the roar sounds like the roars from all the other cages. It's only when you manage to sneak inside the cage that you see if they have multi-coloured feathers, membraneous wings and a snout. Therefore is it really worth going to the zoo to watch them?

Silver nausea

Silver nausea. Lines of dead baby mice, decayed to grey. Curled up in the rims of the underside of Diet Coke cans. The can is still full and unopened, yet the creature the opposite. Both grey, yet only one is shiny.