Internal Thoughts Of A Catastrophic Fool.

So here I am. Again.
Happy. Jaunty. Devil may care.
Because I've realised something over the last two days.
I'm not a burden and never will be. To toot my own horn I'm far too interesting.
My mind is like a puzzle that needs solving, the pieces not quite fitting together.
I thought I'd be gutted. I was for the whole of an hour but then I looked at shit realistically.

I am not ever gonna be 100% happy at the moment.
I can try but its not going to happen. I'll be like 95.5%.
I will always have lingering doubts over everything so I'm no good to anybody in this state.
My life goes on without me while I drink and drown in a sea of pointless pussy.

I had a dream last night. It was fucked up. She was in it. Not she. Another one.
They're all nameless to me. But I don't understand why this paticular woman was in it.
I've never met her before in my life. She's a good kisser though. In my dream of course.
Now I thought it was just a random dream. I'm used to them.
But if I dig beneath the surface I have a theory.
It doesn't take Freud to figure it out.
I have an affinity to unavailable women. Fucking great.

So now I must muse over which way to go. Do I choose my favoured route.
The "head down,get on with things" or do I go for broke and just drink and fuck whatever comes my way instead of backing out like I have in the past because of one tiny thing.
Maybe to much pubus, I was too tired or I just really didnt find her that attractive.
Fuck it we shall see.

It is funny though. Life.
It's full of so many twists and turns I've lost my touch with reality.
I don't know what's fantasy and what is real.
I wish to get lost in fantasy. Everything works for me and I can just sit back in my metaphorical armchair and relax.

But in this reality I lie in my bed alone. Bloodshot eyes, hungover and yet not entirely unhappy.
Life. The wonders. The mystique. Got to love it.
I am no longer chasing the dragon. It's not worth the effort.
Fuck.

Addicted.

Its funny as of late
As I contemplate all that is at stake
I'm addicted to the all the pain in my scalp
People screaming I need help
But I don't,I'm just trying to burn in hell
Thoughts of suicide all the time
As I'm getting high
Sitting back in the night with my head in the sky

I'm addicted to all these pills around me
All this alcohol that surrounds me
Take a swig from the bottle
Fly off full throttle
There's nothing I couldnt be.
I'm addicted to all this shit
All the thoughts inside my head
All the pain that I seem to feel
Questioning whats real
All I know is I'm addicted.

Wasted Romance.

Wasted Romance. Where do I begin? Do I retread everything I've spoken about before?
Or do I try and put a new spin on it? A narrative. Structure.
Well, what is wasted romance? Is it really a waste? Or is it just the mind playing tricks?
Is it really romance? Or is it just constituting acting like a fucking faggot?

I have been called many things but romantic is not one of them. I like to think I am but something I do must not sit with the female mind.
Am I soppy? I don't like to think that. I like to speak my mind and hell if it means calling a woman beautiful then so be it. She must be for me to say it.
True beauty isn't makeup, Extensions and fake fucking nails.
Its facial structure,hair(prefereably curled.Take note.) and eyes.
A personality. Character.
Add them together and well. Thats a pretty fucking beautiful woman.

I try my hardest. I'm not the most confident evidently. But if I have something to aim for I will peel my shell off. Blow the cobwebs off my brain and thaw out my heart(30 degrees pre-heated works.) I will tell her how I feel. Woo her. Let her feel the woman she is. Realise her pro's, her flaws and get caught up in the whirlwind. Flying,falling failing.
I want her to know I'm not just there for the moment. Here today,gone tomorrow.
That aint me.

How i want to just see her. Hey, if its just innocent talking I can be content in my head.
I know she'll never want that. I can't help that. But I can help her.
But at the end of it all will she truly trust me? Probably not.
Life's too fucked up to let any person truly let their guard down.
I can no longer pine after her. It makes my head hurt.
And I've got to stop blogging about her. It's ridiculous.

What a wasted romance.

Fool's Fiddle.

So the feelings are out, the thoughts have been said.
Mistakes have been made on my part.
And yet here I sit not entirely dissatisfied.
When all is said and done she made me happy for the course of a weekend.
Feelings not felt for a while were stirred up, cooked and devoured.
Real attraction. A fatal attraction.

How did it start? We have to travel back a month or so.
Through the crowds of people, chatter, banter and alcohol chirped a voice "Too young Follows".
I admit it raised a smile. A real one, not the fake ones i plaster onto my face in the mornings.
But nah it didnt start there. At that point she was just a beauty in the night, a lady to behold.
In hindsight I probably should have left shit there.
But no, it moved on. Week after week I saw her, heard her and in a way felt her.
The more we talked, the more I wanted to know of her.
The more I got to know of her.
The more I liked.

She was like nothing I had heard or seen before. Every word was....real.
Unquestionably devoted to the little things in life she made me realise a few facts.
1) I'm an emotional wreck when I don't need to be. She was right. I should be happy.
2) Life is an art form. She never used those words but from her mannerisms,pictures, words I picked up on this. Thankyou that I did.

She always seemed happy. I admit maybe alcohol had some effect but at the end of it all happiness comes from deep within. Instilled in us, nurtured and left to roam freely upon our shells. How I longed for just a slight connection. And then something changed. We spoke freely to each other. I spilled things I would never spill to anybody. Why?
I have no idea. I wrote a sentence. I wrote a paragraph. Next thing I knew I had devoted entire blogs to her. I tried to conceal it at first. Little revealing sentences here and there. Why? Was I afraid? I have no answer. But here I am Spilling my mind,heart and soul onto the screen. Her eyes can roam here. Those perfect eyes. See what I've written. Interested? Great.
If not what can I do?
Just sit here and keep playing my fool's fiddle.

Fuck.

Here I Am.

Well. I'm happy. I'm actually smiling. I can feel the creases in my cheeks, the shakes inside when you try and contain a laugh.
What a beautiful feeling. Matches a beautiful mood.
I sit here on my sofa full of joy, a lust for life re-awakened.
Give me a bottle of whiskey, a slap and send me on my way.
I refuse to fall off this pedestal. I've experienced my fair share of shit but fuck it.
It's the past. And the past ain't now.
All it took was a few words off her and i realised something.
I don't need to be happy inside.
Just on the outset.
Because I know if you fake something long enough you become that something.

Here I am depressed as fuck. Insides aching. I can feel the tears in my eyes, floodgates waiting to open. I refuse to let them.
I'm happy-go-lucky. Atleast I still feel something. I'm not some fucking cold hearted cunt.
I'm a frozen hearted prick. A modern day Jeckyll and Hyde, two personas, one person.

Here I am fucked off. Anger frothing over, spewing out my mouth. I can feel the venom flowing,rushing over my enemies. Let them know I'm not backing down. Call me what you want.
I couldn't give a folding fuck. At least I'm not a liar to me. I'm true to myself.
I keep my head above water, to see where I can go from here.

Here I Am.

Fuck.

...........

Locked deep in thought
The pen in my hand
Wont write for me anymore,
My heart won't scribe about any whore,
Just the ones that I care about
But the way things seem
My pen inks found itself in a drought.
Hide my thoughts in hieroglyphics,
A puzzle to ponder,
My feelings locked up
Leaving you to wonder
How the fuck can I be so bold?
I'm asking how you can be so cold?
It's funny.
When I wake up
I'm clean shaven cut
But when my eyes are opened
I'm a rugged unshaven messy scrub.

Fuck.

I hear them calling me.
I see them chasing me.
Im trying to stall them
To hasten their stampede.
This don't always work for me
and sometimes it gets to much you see.
But i keep my head down
feet planted firmly on the ground.
I hear their sounds.
I smile, shake hands and fuck them off.
I piss them off and it gets me off.
The good times we're facing
The way my heart is decaying.

Still chasing, still running
its funny.
Days are dark, the nights are sunny.
I dream of money, spend lavishly
on a girl who smiles so happily.
Its all fake on my part
But they dont know that,its an art.
Can't be taught, can always be fought.
The way I hide my sadness causes slaughters
and me so much stress.
I drink to forget.
The barricades up.
I couldnt give a fuck.

I'm stuck in this deep depression,
I'm fucked because I can't sleep
I keep stressing.
I'm popping pills every day of the week,
I'm ill because I cant stomach to eat.
I'm lost in the hunger of love
I'm stuck underneath trying to struggle back up.
I drink to the brink that each week I'm knelt over the sink,
I'm alone and I think Those tears falling in quick succession.

Thats what the devil says.

Welcome people
Lets open up our books.
See what the day entails
Who we must leave shook.
Thats what the devil says.

I'm soon to be dead.
One bullet to the forth of my head.
Bloodstained sheets on a bloodstained bed.
As I leave I know all has been said.
Thats what the devil says.

Sex drugs and alcohol.
The unholy trinity.
From these come your downfall.
All of these inside of me.
Thats what the devil says.

You do the math.

Here I sit locked in thought. My head buried in my hands. I struggle to get to the bottom of my problems. I am the problem.
Plain to see. Easy to hear.
Mind, body and soul tarnished for now.
I hear whispers echoing around me, surrounding me, paranoia chilling me to my bones.
They're talking about me. I hear them. Their words cursing me. Striking me down.
Leave me be. I'm sorry. I apologise. All I ever do.

Why do I suddenly give a fuck about it all? Why do I have to care? Why did I develop a fucking conscience?
My mind fails to think of others until its to late.
Let me tell you one thing though.
You only hear what i want to say. You only see what I want to show.
Yes mistakes can be made, lies can be told and shit can be split.
What am I even chatting about? I have no clue. My mind moves faster than I can control.

I might disappear for a while. See if you notice. Go live in my dreams where its perfect.
Your kisses mean too much. My family is still together. And somehow Rugeley is connected to the fucking world from 5 steps. I feel happy there.
Its in my stomach. Its in my heart. It's in my mind.
Everytime I lean in for the kiss I'm nervous. Heart beats like a freight train pounding my chest.
Butterflies float around my stomach tickling the sides.

But in this reality. Still seated. Still defeated. Still holding my head in my hands. I'm not happy. Not even close. Because I have a horrible feeling we could drift apart. People have a habit of getting lost out there. In 10 years you could be just another woman I lost at sea. In 10 years you could very well be the love of my life.
My eyes will stay open. Because people blink and miss the moment. The moment that could have changed everything.
And most importantly. You smell good. Like home.

Unfaithfully yours

Jimmy Follows.

Fuck.

?

None of you will ever understand the pain I feel.
I dont even understand it. Yeah yeah typical boring tragedy fucking case.
Broken family,broken heart blah blah fucking blah.
I never want you to understand what I feel. Ever.
Because when all is said and done it wont matter. I'll be in a box in the ground and you will all be holding false grief when inside you feel relief.

Wanna hear as story? Its a funny one. real comedy.
2008. Anger constantly flowing through, alcohol fueling my vices.
painkillers popped every fucking night a fucking girl beating on my fucking brain.
Where the fuck were you all then ay?
Wanna hear how I was once suicidal? Hope it makes you fucking happy just like it does me.
I was that close to fucking escaping all your fucking lies,cheating and fucking fueliing my fucking fires.
Fuck you very much.
Think about this before you fucking flip out,judge me or fucking leave me.
Let it sit on your fucking brain.
Fuck this.
Fuck you.
Fuck the world.

Fuck The World.

I refuse to cry. Refuse to let my eyes fill up, my throat dry out and my heart crack. Fuck that.
Instead I will do one simple thing. Smirk. Say "fuck you" and hate every fucker near me.
My minds on lock now. All over the place. I'm fucking flying. I don't know.
I'm confused,lost and heartless. Best way to be.
No-one cares anymore. No-one.
Time to speak candidly.
How the fuck could you abandon me?
I know our feelings truer than you do. You couldnt give a flyer and I couldn't give one back.
Fuck you. Fuck this. Fuck the world.
I'm done.

And so here settles my writers block. My hands no longer able to type freely, my mind not on set.
So what came of my friday? A few twists,turns,moments of pissedoffedness(yes its a real word) and of course the usual lack of sleep.
A couple beers and coasting I was.
And once again I was snared by her. Her eyes like fucking emeralds looking into mine. I swear you can fall in love in those moments.
I admit I felt lost at earlier in the night. frustration ran through as she apeared to be ignoring me, unable to make eye contact or hold a conversation for more than 3 seconds. Didnt stop me buying her a drink though. I'm nice like that.
Anyway moral of this compeletely shit and pointless post. You can't always get what you want.
But you might just get what you need.

Fuck.

Things To Do.

Not much to say. My intentions are clear. I'm always in the same place, known where to be found. A flurry of words have already been spilled maybe revealing too much.
Rules.
1) My words are open to interpretation. Take them as you will.
2) I'm no longer falling because iv fallen. Smile about it.
3) Its all good. Smile motherfucker and all that shit.
4) God hates us all. Hate him back. It works for me.
Possibly the most literal thing i've written. Metaphors have flown out the window and fallen.
The wings werent as wide spread as first thought.
So now I write from the mind. I look around, see shit I don't like.
Fuck it though, I keep my head down and get on grinning all the way.
A glass of whiskey on me way there.
A morning of awkwardness is better than a night of loneliness.
A grin is better than a smile is better than a smirk.
Remember that shit.


Fuck.

2010.

2010 is the year. New year has come and gone along with the hangover of last year.
I might still be down but mark my words I'm not out.
This is the year I sortmy shit and sober up. Give me a reason and its done.
A failed relationship,depression and a battle with painkillers fucked 2009 up.
I have a mission to comlete. A list of things.
1) Find a nice girl. I might know a few but as they're uninterested and the world is hellbent on fucking up every other woman this may be the toughest one.
2) Stop smoking. I have always said with the right girl I would.
3) Cut down my drinking. Viewed as the alcoholic I'm not its time to show these fuckers I'm not what they see me as.
That's my top three but im sure as the year goes on I will add more.
I have to grow the fuck up and be a man. That is a conscience choice I plan on making.
The girl in mind may be higher up the chain than I will ever be but im a fighter and as I'm not on the ropes yet I wont give up hope.
This is the year.

Frustrations.

Dear world.
My frustrations are limitless. Endless. So many questions, so little answers.
I feel torn,limb from limb, by everyone I know. My family expect so much of me.
I expect so little.
College feels my fucking purgatory. Stuck here unable to leave.
Nobody knows me. Wants to know me. Not that I blame any of you.
I have no intentions of being the good guy anymore. Fuck that. Life's too fucking boring.
Life will kill you.

Here I sit all alone, drinking in my room. Nobody to nurse me back to happiness.
My body feels numb, my heart feels cold. Unable to beat it sits there as a timebomb waiting to explode.
I inhale the smoke, feeling the fire burn.
Why arent I noticed more? is there something that fucking repulsive about me?
She doesnt notice me with a clear mind. She see's me through smoke and broken mirrors.
Distorted.

I can't sleep at night because all I see is her face. I try to blank her but its pointless.
She's a poison attacking my system. My barriers have fallen down at her feet, my mind only spoken to her.
Notice me.

I try my hardest not to be undertaken by your spell. But you. You attack me once again.
Why do you do this? Is it a fun game to you?
Can't be. No way. You're too perfect to have a purple heart.
Wine is fine but whiskey is quicker.



Fuck.

Falling

I'm slowly falling. Its a funny feeling. Impending doom faced yet I feel no fear.
I plummet from the sky toward the floor. A smirk scraped across my face just like I will be on the pavement.
I wonder what its like to feel the impact. Your head cracks, your brain leaks out the top. It oozes down the street, a sight to behold for all the people happening to walk by. Your bones shatter. Unable to move. Locked in the imprisonment of lifelessness.
Would I smile? Fully released from the hell we call life. Would I cry unable to see sights I hold dear again? That sunset, that smile, fuck, that bottle of whiskey.
Walking hand in hand passed the lake we call ours. Snowy mountains lurk in the background, a beautiful sight. My smirk turned into a shout. Pointlessly clawing the air, trying to find something to hold onto. And then you appear, falling with me.
"Dont be afraid". Your first words. Your hand grasps mine and I close my eyes.
There we are dancing the night away in the twilight of our youth.
The first kiss in the snow. The moment we decided to take it further. I enter you and you gasp, an orgasmic moan peeping out.
The night we cuddle and cry together like a couple of snotfaced kids.
There we are finding ou you're carrying our child. The smiles, gasps and laughs.
A hug, a kiss and a celebratory drink for me.
Then I'm alone drinking in a bar. Scotch and cigarettes my new love.
You're at home crying. Your home.
Why did you love that man too? Was there something he possessed more than me?
My walk home. Our daughter unseen to my eyes. I'm alone in the darkness of my soul.
Intoxicated. I swallow down the lump in my throat. Tears enter my eyes. The bed we loved in to the side of me. I sleep on the couch.
I open my eyes to find you gone and me no longer falling. I'm home again.
I fell for you but you didnt fall for me.

Fuck.

Women.

Women really are the most interesting animals to walk this earth.
Viewed as bitches,sluts,whores.
The funny thing is I could never live without them. Who doesnt love the moment you see a genuinely stunning woman and your jaw slams into the floor? Your insides close in, your heart pounds and your mouth goes dry.
Or when you see a girl you think is gorgeous. From the back. She turns around. Your face plummets into the floor and the next thing you know you and your mates are rolling on the floor laughing. Two golden moments that, without these beautiful creatures, we could not savour.
Every woman is beautiful in some way or another. I will always stand by that statement. A smile,eye colour and hey fuck a great rack. They all count for something. There is not a single woman I have kissed wether it was for 10 seconds or 10 minutes I have not given my heart to.(well maybe a couple)
Right now a woman is on my mind. It makes me happy. I smile. Yet the Lightning clashes and the rain clouds above me precipitate upon my head. I know she will never want me,love me,like me. But I will always hold that hope. Without that my attraction is useless.

Fuck.

The Most Beautiful Smile I Ever Saw.

She loves to smile. I first noticed it in passing,down by the train station.
It struck me. Gorgeous green eyes. Electric,fully charged. And that smile.
Not forced. Just....happiness. I envied her in those brief minutes I fell in love.
But as a man it is my solemn duty to keep my mouth shut, nod, smile goofily and trundle off hoping one day i might be lucky enough to see that same beautiful smile again.

Release(rough)

News reports on my recluse
Reporting on my drugs and alcohol abuse
Trapped inside the walls of my mind
Attached on fools are all i find
Its been a month since I cleaned my teeth
All I feel inside is grief
Rugged, messy and unshaven
All i got is my house is my haven.

Your itching skin begins to crawl
You know your being played a fool
The gun inside your closet calls
Begging you to end it all
You kick and scream, shouting no
But you know theres only one place to go.

For months I slept permanently
In that time people kept searching for me
In this place nobody can hurt me
Happy I never made it past thirty.
All I ask is dont cry for me
Ill be back momentarily

On the stage I cannot age.
Its my Neverland.

All In The Mind.

Its funny.You lie there. You breathe,close your eyes and hope to sleep. Instead you are greeted by a world of uncertainity and fear. Fear is a fickle thing. Long since devolved from the natural instinct instilled in many of us it is now a state of mind. Media driven we as people live in a constant state of fear. Funny thing is we are now probably more safe than ever. we read of bombings in the newpaper. Terrorists. Rewind 1000 years ago and live in a world of poverty,disease and a big fucking sword piercing your chest. Safer than ever.
All you can see is a face. A woman? A man? Unknown but it is clear that there is an attraction of sorts between you and them. Tossing and turning you try and sleep,to escape these images instead finding yourself running down endless corridors. Why cant you get away? Who are they? What do they want? You scream out. Nobody hears. You're all alone. You sink to your knees. You sweat. Deep breaths. No. Short panicked breaths. And then you see the face. Your panic eases a little. Your cries turn to laughs. Yeah you instilled yourself on my brain. But please. As a fucking favour. Dont fucking stay there. I cant stop thinking about you. Let me sleep.

Fuck.