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[30 Sep 2004|09:55am] |
"Poison pervades the beauty,
blood cells rot and leave a black heart"
Yes, and so it is morning once again, with new things to do. The Bell was largely empty last night, spent most of it talking to Graham, who slung some Libertines on the cd player, whilst the mob gathered in the public bar.
No great shakes. Today is work. OAP style.
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[30 Sep 2004|10:04am] |
Good god, it's nearly October. Barely more than three months left of an untidy spiritless year. I suppose it would be fitting to put a label on it and file it away with "Best left to forget".
But then there are always the glad things of autumn. Leaves falling, golden scenes with gloves, trampled dried branches, bikes throwing up the cold air, and of course, the endless moaning about how chilly it's getting now.
Well FUCK right off, because I love it.
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| It didn't happen |
[30 Sep 2004|10:29am] |
"these molecules are cunting shit, I want my money back"
"You weren't supposed to rub jelly into the hair, see? It's gone all matted and impure"
"Ladies and gentlemen! The return of Lake and Baker, the world's biggest vocal cordless singers!"
"As I survey, I see many cold hearts, many impure impudent horrifying wastes of souls.....I would have to say, this is the worst children's party I have ever presided over.....oh STOP CRYING!"
"Eat it....eat it! Go on! It lookes just like Jeremy Irons!"
" Do you want anything from the shop? I'm going to buy firelighters"
"Well, Mr Lyndhurst....i'm afraid the head is completely oval....i'm sorry"
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[30 Sep 2004|04:15pm] |
"An ostrich egg is worth smashing".
That's the quote that comes straight from the mind this afternoon. What a laugh!
Pretty good lunch. Busy busy busy, but all in and out early, and despite my nice, clean buckets being FUCKING ALL dirtied when only ONE was necessary to use, I was not overly annoyed. Still, there's always time for that, isn't there?
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| Story opening. Always a commencment, never a denounment. |
[30 Sep 2004|05:17pm] |
The ease of which he drifted silently up onto the beach belied the ferociousness of his arrival somewhat.. he had bee racked upon waves like beans shaking in a teacup...the edges stinging his eyes, salt water choking him.....then the calmness of lappping waves upon the beach bringing him home to the shore.
"I'm home", he thought....staring through one eye at the vertical beach....the other buried in sand. He groaned, as if a sack emptying of it's heavy content of potatoes, or bricks. Laying a while....he blinked every few seconds, before finally pulling his dirty face from the sand....and stretching his body up....wiping the gritty substance from his eye, his gaze focussed on the distance.
Nothing. Not even a bird or crab. There was no point staying here......he stumbled to a standing position and searched his damp pockets, pulling out a packet of rolling papers solidified by water....and his wallet, the money in which would be no use had he been in the position to use it.
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[30 Sep 2004|05:47pm] |
My black rose falls, cut by ice
shard that melts not before my blood spills
onto the petals.
The beauty is killed.
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[30 Sep 2004|05:51pm] |
I had come to mind that I would like to write more poetry, as I have been doing so there. I'm having a lot of trouble combining emotion with the beauty of symbolism. I feel like a child messing about in a flower bed, not quite understanding what is around me.
I love it though. Really trying hard to use my subconcious.
I gave away....the secret that I had an online journal....to my class......however I did not give them the adress. I may do so during the course.
However, whether the entries about my college nights will go down too well, i don't know. Hey, that's the way I write I suppose. Still like the people on the course....quite a lot actually. There are no people there, that DON'T want to be there.
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| It didn't happen |
[30 Sep 2004|05:55pm] |
"His arms turned out to be cash registers. I couldn't sleep with him after that"
"They just carried the face around, in a pram!"
"That ostrich was a cunt, I tell you. It pecked through a wall"
"Oh, what a feeling, when Lionel Richie is whoreing himself to every single television opportunity possible."
"This barbeque is simply offensive. I'm leaving."
"Why did I cry? I think it was the pie"
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[30 Sep 2004|06:00pm] |
"Okay...thanks...September there.....yeah...SEE YER NEXT YEAR! Next up, an old friend...all the way from the autumnal season....your friend and mine...leaf droppin'......golden sunset givin'............OCTOBER!"
Yes, and so tomorrow enters the tenth month..........it is likely to be as brief as the passing of clouds in windy weather.
What happened to our time? I was twenty yesterday.
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[30 Sep 2004|07:13pm] |
Well, that's pretty much it for today. Time to work my way through these familiar roads and earn some money to drink.
Yer know what I mean. Perhaps i'll leave some for important things. But I doubt it.
Good day to you.
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