It’s been a year. Things were as bleak as ever. Now I look back at past blog entries and realise I was a much happier person before that… Long chain of events for lack of a more eloquent term… I wrote better, was more interesting.
Bottom line, I was happy. I want to be happy.
And again I take flight… To blogger…
I am not going to be blogging for a long time. I don’t know what’s wrong, I don’t know what to do, I don’t know what to say and nobody should care anyway.
I’m becoming incoherent and whining on my blog, something I promised not to do when I started this blog. I need to stop writing cryptic little entries about my problems and start solving all the fucking problems that have been piling up.
I hate this blog.
A Man puts a dollar into a Vending Machine. He pushes the button expecting a bottle of Coke. Instead, the bottle gets stuck. The Vending Machine cheated this Man out of one dollar. A Police Car drives by.
A Man puts a dollar into a vending Machine. He pushes the button expecting a bottle of Coke. He put’s his hand inside the vending machine when the flap opens and grabs another bottle of Coke. The Vending Machine cheated him out of a dollar, so he was only getting back what he deserved, two bottles of coke. A Police Car drives by and he is arrested for shoplifting.
Justice depends on who did it. Governments are like Vending Machines and the People are like the Man.
Let justice be done, though the heavens may fall.
It wasn’t a mistake three years ago, It was salvation. I knew even then that it was temporary, but I wanted to enjoy it while it lasted.
Now I pay for it. My intentions were hardly evil, but in the end it broke me, twice. I’m not the fool I was then, but now I’m not any of that fool three years ago. My shadow is no longer mine, nor is my reflection. He won’t be missed though.
I’m a bad, bad person. I quite often hate myself, but I don’t dwell on it at all. I’m cold, angry and spiteful under all the bad jokes and comic relief.
I know all this, instead of changing, I embrace it. Are we all like this deep down? Aren’t we all like this deep down? Do we just ignore it, or is it just another bit of our humanity? A cruel, yet necessary curse that keeps us going?
Or is there better?
Whoa baby i was born
With a fast fuse
Got no time to love
Just a city to abuse
Whoa baby i was born
With a fast fuse
Got no time to love
Just a city to abuse
Come get me
If you’re fine don’t arrest me
Imma listen to shy, wild S.E. done
That’s right
Cause she’ the morning sun
Come get me
All you fuckers can’t touch me
I’m a hooligan cry, shy, sit down stare,
It don’t matter
Give me one, two, three
Come light me the skylight
Come light me in the sky
Whoa baby i was born
With a fast fuse
Got no time to love
Just a city to abuse
Whoa baby i was born
With a fast fuse
Got no time to love
Just a city to abuse
Don’t you say goodbye
They wait above the clouds
Oooh
How dare you!
Now it’s time to address you
I’m the reason you came, shame, suck my name
See my fish
Poppin’ up your rings
It’s getting in hotter
Now I’m spitting out lava
I was better in the words, chess
Genuine stock
Hear the pot going
Tick, tick, tock…
Come light me in the skyline
Come light me in the sky
Come light me in the skyline
Come light me in the sky
Whoa baby I was born
With a fast fuse
Got no time to love
Just a city to abuse
In the middle of the night
When they come for you
Where you gonna be
Whatcha gonna do?!
Heaven they come and heaven they come but i wont be there, hey hey
Heaven they come and heaven they come but i wont be there, hey hey
Heaven they come and heaven they come but i wont be there, hey hey
Heaven they come and heaven they come but i wont be there, hey hey
Take away just a little bit of what makes you human and life seems so much easier. Empathy. Hah, who needs it.
I don’t want my empathy. What’s the point if you can’t do fuck about it? I mean, Converse, Nike, all made in sweatshops by kids who’d never get to wear the shoes they make. I’m getting a pair of Chuck Taylors because I can’t do a thing about it but sit there and think and feel sorry about the whole thing.
It’s not just a global thing. In personal situations too, sometimes, why bother?
Don’t ask. Don’t tell.
It’s getting a bit easier now. I’m not happy, just less troubled in a sick twisted sort of way. I understand.
Some days I go home feeling good about myself. I say “I’m happy with who I am.” The next morning it’s gone. Reality sets in and you remember the high powered flashes, art exhibitions, lazy politicians, dreamgirls, the impossible and then it’s just gone.
But I guess it’s all worth it? For that breif moment of happiness, camraderie, intoxication. Like those few days when that new song is still new.
Slowly, I realize that happiness can come at one in the morning. The worlds dark and cold outside, but where I’m sitting in my dining room, I’ve got good music and solitude.
I Live.
Heh, I lose my keenness on writing just as the semester containing WRITTEN COMMUNICATIONS starts. Fucking brilliant… So I will make this post short.
Friday was Kin’s 17th birthday. Lot’s of running around Boat Quay finding a venue, buying his present and running around Barracuda taking as many photos as possible, so I’ll let the photos do the talking.
Waiting for the birthday boy.
He arrives and the cake is all set up!
Drinking and being merry!
The birthday boy is given a chance to sing! And he SINGS! Chasing Cars, which he changed to CHASING GIRLS!
GO KIN!
Needless to say there were loads more people than shown in these photos, I just am too tired to post every single one. If you’d like, check out the whole batch of photos at my photobucket, usename: doinchi.
I hate doinchi.
