Saturday, September 02, 2006


You say... every day's the same,
But I will never close my eyes again.

Difficulties. Stupidity. Loss of innocence. You will be judged. Everyone knows.

Why is there suffering?
Without suffering there would be no compassion.
Tell that to those who suffer.

That's from some film. Maybe "A Walk To Remember". Anyway. The End. [I hope not]

Disco Ensemble


If it's something to die for;
if it's something to cry your heart out for;
when the times are hard, don't walk away,
don't walk away from me

Sadness Echoes

Sadness is something that some people are born with. Sometimes it is immovable. I believe I was born with sadness. Certain events trigger it. Self-loathing is occurent everynow and then. Words are made up to describe feelings emotion. Sometimes a scream is better than a thesis. Ralph Waldo Emerson. I could type shflkjldksghkjh and it would make as much sense as a fully coherent sentence right now. Elliott Smith is playing through the speakers. Sometimes people do stupid things and cover them up with words, lines, sentences. Not expressing the whole truth is the same as a lie. The truth should always come easy, there should never be mistakes made, the world should be an idyllic place. Sadness is expressed with words, with tears, with sighs. Sadness is expressed with silence, with trembling, with body language. Stand slumped over a shelf. Lie down on a bed and not want to get up. We all have the potential to be horrible, horrible people. We all have the potential to be monsters. We all have the potential to do something great. Dreams keep us alive. I had one today. It was beautiful at the time, but afterwards - two to three hours, or five minutes, I can't remember - I realised that it was too ideal, too pleasant, too simple. Too impossible. Everything is always fucked up, sometimes. Faith.

Find your own song.

Friday, September 01, 2006

Fiction Becomes Fact. Mistakes Are Made.

Sometimes you create a song about what you've become. What you will become. What you might become. Unwittingly, the subconscience within you will become an outward thing. The text comes from 'The Contortionist's Handbook', by Craig Clevenger. The last line is from the Biffy Clyro song 'Justboy'. Fiction... will become fact. My voice, tells me the truth almost as a mistake. Sad but definitely hopeful. I should keep listening. I should keep listening. I should keep listening. Sometimes silence is the most awful thing.

The white, twenty-five to thirty year old, American male, drinks twelve to fourteen beers a week, or five to seven glasses of wine a week. The average legal limit in most states is .08 BAC which is about two beers. So two beers gets you legally drunk. The implicit question is not, How much do you drink? but, How often do you get legally drunk? or, How often do you have more than two beers within a given hour during the course of a week. I'm legally drunk seven days a week, but no one needs to know that... From the dark clouds a light will break through.

We Came In A Coma

From The Dark Clouds A Light Will Break Through (Chapter 1)

As Elliott Smith wrote, "I'm not half what I wish I was."