They say giants can't fall. This one did.
This paticular giant was on top of the world.
Now he sits below it. He had it all. Family,friends and a female.
Now he has nothing.
He sits alone. Reads alone. Writes alone.
He clenches his fist and smashes it into the ground, trying to cause ripples.
He creates nothing. No reaction. No chaos.
He is faltering. Switch is gone. No smiles.
Nothing.

True reflection.

It started with my heart first. A burden so great that I was beating like a freight train.
My insides were cold, a shiver too touch. How could I be so stupid?
One mistake and here I am. Rock bottom.
I stare into the mirror disgusted by what I see.
A ravenous beast. A fucking skeleton. Gaunt.
Eyes red, no sleep again. A drop of whiskey clinging to my chin, praying, hanging for life.
This isn't me. I close my eyes, pop another pill, swig it down with the whiskey. Sleep. Just please slee......

Females.

So am I done? Yes and no.
I love the female company. Cherish it. But is it ever enough?
Never anymore. People expect me to be some fucking Superman.
I'm not. I smile, laugh, compliment.
It's a charade right? No. I mean it too few people.
But when I mean it I mean it.
But nobody accepts.

So here I am. Still alone on top of my throne.
No queen. No ancestors. I invented this.
"Fuck women" I scream. Context works two ways.

Fuck it. Peace out.

Art form.

We lay together. Sweet symphonies arising.
She is my canvas. Poetry etched in her skin.
Words can't describe.
My hand the brush, images left behind.
Soft strokes, broad brushes.

I whisper in her ear. Sing her a ballad.
Play her a song.
Haiku. I left a note.

I need you.
Her words not mine.
I take her a picture. Flash.
I sign her an autograph. Number.
I leave with a kiss.

Age.

I don't believe age is simply numbers. Law permits certain ages.
Me. I'm just sat here. Immobile. She is beautiful. Eyes blue. Old and true.
Old? No. Simply incoherency on my part. Yet here I sit feeling the big issue.
Opinions come and go, feelings stay provided.
Am I too young? Not too me. I've been an adult since I was a pre-teen.
Now. An adult.

I find her attractive. Gorgeous. She stunned me. I'm still sat here. Alone.
She will find age a factor. Can't say I blame her. She has so much to live for.
So little too hold to.
I find grief impossible too deal with. Now it comes with the territory.
She found me a way.
Maybe she will find a way to me.

?

Leave your woman behind,
All those times that you cried,
All those sighs and thise lies,
Creeping in insecurities.
Is she worth the aggravation?
Are you wasting- too much time?
The clock strikes on your relationship,
As the realisation that you're facing,
Too much shit- sets in.
She cheated behind your back,
Stole all the limelight.
She defeated your mind- as a matter of fact,
you've wasted- too much time.
Go out those doors, shut the curtains,
She's the whore, she'll be the one hurting.
Your dark eyes meet mine, you look so divine,
Here baby drink this wine,
Hush slut now snort this line,
Let your brain fly.
Try to play me a fool, I'll teach you a fucking lesson,
You broke my heart, left me stressing,
Young adolescents?
I'll break your neck and leave you second guessing.

Untitled.

I rise like a flower budding.
Soon dead, feeling nothing.
Cold wind blowing on my rotting corpse.
The breeze isn't stopping and my voice is hoarse.
Fuck a butterfly. It's all dead.
The A-Bomb drops from the sky
And lands on my head.
Disaster spread through these fields.
Everything dead in thse fields.
Eyes red up,haven't been to sleep yet.

Love is free in all the ways I am not.
All the pains and strains disappear over the years and just stop.

Short but sweet.

So. Hows things? Quite mighty fine white wine.

Hangovers rarely seem to exist anymore, sobriety still not obtained.

I'm just stronger now than I've ever been. My stomach has decayed from alcohol, my lungs from smoking and I'm incredibly happy.

Her eyes reach mine. Her lips shine, inviting. We lean into each other, lips locking, just slightly. Teasing. I wake up. These dreams have been haunting me for a while now. Same woman, different day. Different woman, same day. Wheres the glove that fits eh?

Still woman-free so ultimately woe free. Go me.

There is a woman involved. The butterfly effect. I fall for her, she doesnt fall for me.Two minutes later shit is reversed. My sexist stature doesn't sit right with her and that's good for me.

Peace brothers. Short but sweet.

It's an evil prediciment. Life, woes, whims, fuck.
Footloose, fancy free, spring in the step.
No.
Life is too fucking complicated. Happiness cannot be obtained.
Happiness exists no more. Just hijinks and play.
Sadness. A stiff drink that fills you through,brings out emotions hidden deep away.

?

My hands are shaking
My stomach's aching.
What can I do to stop the hating?
My eyes are dead, my head split vision.
I see my double lieing across adjacent.
I can't stand looking at mirrors.
All I my thoughts and dreams are mirrored
Got a drink here, strong, bitter.
Can't think clear go on quitter.
End it all. Be a fool, fall, call out and end up splitted.
No-one will miss ya.
At your funeral, your ass they'll all kiss yeah, but none of them gives a shit man.

I feel like the Incredibe Hulk.
My back has been broke and I can still walk.
Why have I suddenly had a burst of anger?
It's strange. I'm not pissed off. Upset.
I just have a sense of urgency about me. Bring everyone up to speed.
Jog their memories.
Remember me? I'm the kid who used to make you all laugh.
No? Oh okay.
Who am I now? I don't know. It's not a horrible feeling if I'm honest.
It means I can be who I like. Different masks for different occasions.
Woman-bashing chauvanist in one place.
Casanova in another.
Predator. Hiss my lines. Snare you in. Next thing you know I've devoured you for better or worse.

I have no cares for you plastic people anymore. I used to enjoy baiting you.
Now I enjoy sitting back and watching you destroy yourselves.
Maturity. Amazing thing. I'll lose it soon enough so for now be appreciative.
I hit my bottom the other day. I have no intention of pulling myself back up.
I'd rather wallow in this fucked up mindset I'm in. It's fun.
"Fuck the world" I scream. Nah too much effort.
Time to fall back onto the good days of whiskey,cigarettes and lust.
Not that I'll act on it. I have an uncaring female to hold tending too first.
With that said and done. Sleep well. Why I'm even writing this I have no idea nobody reads it.
But hey better out than in ay?

Sore sight.

You're just showing me what I despise.
A sore sight for sore eyes.
Jealousy raring it's ugly fucking head and attacking me, tackling me to the ground.
I try to kick it off me,wrestle it but its a feeble attempt.
In all honesty I love this feeling. I love the feeling of conflict. Enjoy it too.
Can I explain why I'm taken under? Yes and no.
I hate the fact all you do is mention other lads. Comparisons if you will.
I hate the fact that you still keep in touch with your ex. He that amazing?
Go back to him. I'll still be here face down in my own vomit. Churned up within my turmoiled soul.
It shouldn't even bother me. Really shouldn't. My minds past the point of reasoning.
Fuck it. Pick up move on. There are no metaphors I want to lay down here.
I've got nothing I can hide behind. Simply the fact is you piss me off good and proper.
And yet I can't leave it. Is it your vagina? Most likely. Is it the laughs we have? probably.
But fuck it. Play your game. Go. Play. Have fun. Just don't blame me when my heart reverts back to the dirt from whence it came.

Recovery.

I'm trying to curb my addictions to prescriptions
Its sickening
I'm ashamed.
I'm stuck in the walls of my brain, going crazed, died twice and my memores hazed.
Brought back to life for some kind of reason
My change in mod is like a change in season
Not very often I brighten
And enlighten those around me
Who hound me.
Calm down. Breathe. Let out a sigh of relief.
Life ain't what it seems.
Is sanity really insane?
Is delusion really an illusion?
I try to be honest but people don't like the way it comes across
They try to boss and control you.
Make you suicidal.
I'm not naming names but I'm ashamed I ever met you.
For all the times that I cried I hope this upsets you.
Please believe you mean nothing to me and I'm leaving
Adios,bye, see you later.
Departing with a FUCK YOU for the haters.

Testimony of Jimmy Follows.
I'm clean and you can' fuck this up for me.

Fuuuuuuuuck you.

What do I want?
There are things I need. I need stability. Motivation. A good kick in the arse.
But seriously what do I want?
I have no clue. A woman most definetly but how do I want her?
My taste changes almost instantaneously.
Things that stick.
1) Brown hair.
2) Nice eyes.
3) Be a dirtbag. I mean fuck me theres a lot of girls out there but if they see the shit I wanna try they'd run to the fucking mountains and never come back. (Unless I unlocked something in them)
Argue back too. I mean I don't want a relationship consisting of just arguments but don't bow down to me and apologise if it was my fault.
Don't fuck me around either. I ain't stupid. I'll meticulously take you apart piece by piece.
I have a girl in mind right now. It ain't gonna happen. No worries. I've discovered I have something that must put women off me. My last few putrid attempts of wooing someone have spectacularly crawled up their own arses and imploded.
That is all I want.
Smile.

If you're tired of relationships, try a romance.

Relationships are generic.
Just another cog in the machine. Marry,reproduce,die.
Where's the fun in that?
I'll ask a question. Do you want to go through the motions?
Or do you want something more? A connection, fun, real love.
Short but sweet.
Don't want a relationship. Come take a romantic trip with me.

Lets Pretend.

Okay.
Lets pretend things were different.
Lets pretend he was a happy kid.
His parents never divorced in 96,
forcing him to become so love sick.
His step-dad wasn't a prick,
and managed to keep his dick,
in his pants for 5 more minutes.
Pretend that he wasn't crying at night,
wishing his family would stick
together for a while just to bring,
happiness to the table
and he had a girlfriend he could say loved him,
for who he is.
Pretend he wasn't asking,
a load of questions like
why his Dad never wanted to see him at weekends.
Took till he was ten to even get a whiff
of fucking at-ten-tion.
His family never hated him
and blamed him for the crumbling foundations.
His lover wasn't crazy as shit
and made him pop pills just to feel un-different.
He saw his friends outside of school
and wasn't smoking or drinking away the stress
to hide the fact from his parents that he felt so fucking depressed.
Now get this bitch!
He's happy with how things worked out
even if he lost his soul and his mind
it doesn't matter at this time
all of this shit just means he's got more work cut out.
He can smile and hide all of this shit
inside that cranium of his
like the alienated prick that he is.
A brother, three sisters
he needs to stay strong for
and hope they get the life that he longed for
and if they don't what the fuck can he do?
Nothing.
He'll just keep on smiling for you.

The return.

And now I return with new words,wisdoms and whims.
How is life now? Complete bollocks and yet I'm smiling a lot.
Why? I know how to play this game.
It has become apparent to me over the last month or so that when we all die we will sit and ro in a grave.
Whether you want to believe in a God of some kind,some immortal being who will save you from damnation, is completely in your hands.
Me? Fuck that I'm dieing and dieing well. Pissed up,fucked up and content.
Good times.
Now, whilst I'm wallowing in self-pity at the distress I supposedly find myself in, I smile and fucking laugh.
I have no woman, no money and no importance.
Bullshit.
I have a world of women, endless amounts of money to obtain and my importance will come as my world expands.
Smile fuckers.
Peace.

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.