Back again after like 5 years!

Just can't sleep too dead for trying
Been living alone so long I know no place like home

Drink and wash it all away

Music Video:
href="http://216.180.244.187/videos/t/the_cure/alt_end-2.html" target="_blank">Alt End by (The Cure)

Music Video Code by Video Code Zone

You know that I'm happy, you see smiles and jokes that idealise stars of theatre and screen, you see and that's all you've got, all you smell - all my nights scrubbed raw, all my putrid stench brushed and scrubbed till the sink runs red. How do my smiles look now? Do I believe in your God? Do I believe in your dream?

Answers sweat,and moisten my pits, I stink of your empty promises, I stink of you and your pointless hopes and transparent dreams. I kill. I hate the stupidity, I hate it because I want it, because I WANT IT!

I am numb, I am dysphoric, I wish one day to be human, I wish one day to love, I am without feeling, without love,

Tickle me, watch me sleep

Nothing can make my pain real, not tears spring forth, no gurgles of boiling rage break my surface, I am my own planet. Never planned for, just left to discover who I am, left to die alone.

I FUCKING LOVE THIS SONG - i WANT THIS TO BE THE END, BE THE CUNTING END OF ALL THIS SHIT.

Impure

I've been under for more than two days now. It was meant to be a desease but the heart isn't in it. All my actor are walking away, bouycoting my attempts at skiving legally, how long will eyes of my employers sit before they grow tired of the wool in their eyes?

I have a black eye that grows everyday and the music in my heart says that this isn't what it was meant to be or how it would turn out. I sniff bak lumps of hlegm and they ease my conscience, I am after all sick. Aren't I? Sick to the stomach and hardenend arteries, painful urges to hurt and run. Sweaty stinking body forcing the coma out, little heaving pushes that sadden me, all he wants is to be happy and there's just a grim intent bleeding slippery failure into everything he tries to do. I am all ouot of answers anda out of understanding. It can and won't work for me- a hair's breadth away from being you. A hair's breadth from being a breath, not just a cancer blackening.

I'm nothing. How can this shaking urine soaked sweating leach cause so much trouble?

I am nothing.

Let there be Nothing.

I am your dirty word.

I am your shame

spit on me spit on me spit on me,

and let me live.

Phoetus back where he belongs...

I perch on painful paranoia, all my fear gone to bed but something remains. a dirty stripe of the hurt i felt before.

I just lean and cradle what is left of my aching spine.
fuck it ,this is all for my tomorrows,
this is for when I do not understand,
this is hurting till I sleep find sleep,
this is comfort in the routine,
this is poetry in my silence,
this is a skip and dance in my leaden feet,
this is why this is this,
this is me, and you,
this is going nowhere....

Have you seen me lately?

If you saw me you'd think I liked the quiet, sometimes I think I do and sometimes it hurts to think that this isn't what I want at all. All I can know is how I feel and feelings can be so deceptive. This has been the longest December on record. So much to be thankful for, so much to look forward to and so much still remains to make me shit myself. So much left to make me think maybe it won't ever get any better, just enough left to make it all seem so pointless; a lingering thought that tells me to run, that says cut your losses and get the fuck out before you get in too deep.

If you were a fly on the wall, you'd think it was all my fault. If you thought too hard you'd blame me like I do. However, the obvious alwys hides the truth and I fuck up because I'm scared, because it's my defaut setting. I'm safe when I know how it all turns out, I can plan and buffer.

If you walked past my window, you'd think I didn't have a dream. You'd want to shake me and tell me all I had to do was believe. You'd want me to see what I already see. You'd want me to do what I do everyday.

I sit, I stand, I make faces at the voices in my head. I crawl into my dreams and take shelter from the storm outside. I comfort myself with the thought that it could all be so much worse.
(The Postal Service)

When all is not enough

Err....I want it all, and "it all" won't ever be enough.
So
I have two choices; 1) Give in now and surrender to the fact that I'm never going to be happy or 2) spend the rest of my life working like a cunt for something I'm never going to have, in the mistaken belief that happiness is just around the corner.

Is it better to have a dream even if that dream never materialises, than to know that it just isn't worth the hassle in the first place?

There will always be someone better looking, richer, funnier or more exciting than me.
I just have to accept me for me and just be me.
Bish
Bash
Bosh - Job done.- The key to eternal happiness courteousy of Merlin.
Tada!
Merry fucking Christmas.

"I'm not your favourite record/ The songs you grow to like never stick at first".

Looking for love when I can't even look myself in the eye. Looking for work when I can't even work out what I want to be. Impailed on indecision whilst my peers trot on, not sure but willing to trust in their own judgement. I'm crippled-not the product of a broken home, but of a wasted youth-glazed eyes auditioning for a role in a better life-my life when I wake the fuck up, buck the fuck up and take the plunge. Who the fuck am I? Who do I want to be? What do I like enough to risk betting my whole life on it? How can I have faith in myself when I've fucked everything up? Why the fuck do I, am I, will I turn out the way I turn out?
I'm such a head fuck.
This is side one
Flip me over
My life is waiting for me to live it-It's so close I can taste it.

(Fall out Boy- More EMO to make benefit glorious nation of Merlin)

Life on life's terms/filling the void

They say the addict runs away from responsibility, they say the addict escapes negative feelings any way he knows how. They're right. Fuck-the slightest bit of stress and I spend 120 quid on Cd's. This may not seem a lot but when I live off eggs and bread it may look a bit more like what it is-retail therapy, compulsive purchasing, compulsive behaviour just like drinking till the sharp edges fade away, just like running till the burning gets you high. After 4 months of being institutionalised I am well aware of these subsidiary addictions-push one down and another pops up. Who knows what's next after compulsive shopping-gambling?I fucking hope not. I'm already addicted to cigarettes and the gym. Just gotta keep going to meetings, talk about it and all that jazz. Yeah, the substitutes lead you back to the source and that's a scary prospect. I don't want to be back where I was, it wasn't any fun even tho I tricked myself into believing it was. -"It's not a party if it happens every night".-Anyway, I have no money, no job and few prospects but I suppose it can only get better. We shall see.
Somehow I'm going to fill this hole, but for now the toilet paper's just not doing it.
It's war all the time.