I Hate You ... With A Pash

I feel like I’m in that situation, you know the one where someone cusses you and you come back with something really weak and everyone laughs. Then at 9 O’clock at night, as you sit on your sofa pondering your life, it hits you. The perfect comeback. The one that would have had everyone in hysterics. The line that oozed wit, genius and venom, all rolled up to create one giant arrow of banter. The cussing champ is here!!! But here too late.

To quote my tweet from last night ‘For someone who is so good with words, it's fucking frustrating when I can't find the right words when I really want to say something. GRRR’. Slightly drunk yet ever the wordsmith.

I was not moaning at being cussed, this is not the school playground, although at times it does feel that way. This is me, or maybe a slightly awkward, stuttering version of me, bemoaning my lack of chance taking. I can’t go to bed and wake up thinking, and waiting for this moment to happen, and when it finally does, stand there like Zippy from Rainbow with a rust problem. Granted, I didn’t want it to come on a night out, I’ve got things to do while out on the town. Drink beer, shuffle around the dance floor and talk to random people like they’re my best mate. Yes, I do want to speak to her for 50 years and get things off my chest no matter how much of a dickhead I look like. Truth is beautiful after all. I’m not embarrassed of truth. On a night out though? Don’t say ‘tell me what’s in your heart’. The only thing in my heart on a night out, is Sambuca.

This human being in question frustrates my soul. She knows it. She enjoys it. I want to punch her in the head every time she looks at me. I also want to kiss her though. Even if she is only a 4/10 kisser at best. My perfect night would be punching her then kissing her. Not in an abusive way, in a loving way. A loving punch. Still quite hard though. In the face.

I quite like her, sometimes. She’s alright. As in, I quite like when she’s standing, sitting, or lying next to me. Just so I know where she is. Not in the ‘your mine, and you stay there’ kind of way. I’m not Fritzl. I’m thinking more of a ‘I know every man in the world will fancy you and I don’t want you to get raped’ kind of way. Like when we’re walking around nightclubs and people just look at her and well just look. If they came up trying to rape her, I could fend them off with my jokes, or wrestle them. I’ve been doing press-ups.

I’m in that position to give girls advice on men. I am a man. I hate them. I hate myself.
I know the lies, I know the games. I created them.

Maybe I’m fooling myself? Maybe they won’t rape her. For all I know I could be fending off a Doctor or a Lawyer, respectable citizens who given the chance could make her happy for the rest of her life.

Fuck it, I’ve decided I hate her. She brings nothing but trouble to my days. Popping up on Facebook moaning every two seconds. Texting me telling me how she’s eaten uncooked fish. Telling the same old story over and over again about how she had to have a filling. I bet Russell Brand doesn’t have to put up with this.

She’s fucking annoying. Don’t turn up to my God damn pub, standing next to me texting the boy you were getting with a couple of weeks ago. I can see it. I don’t want to look. My eyes drag me over. I’m not jealous. Jealousy would mean I would want to be him. I don’t. I want to be me. I like it. I genuinely believe I’m the best person ever. Better than God, Jesus and David Beckham. I see that textingness, and it makes me a little bit sad. Not that sad I’d do a facebook status about it, but just that kind of ‘oh, better go try and move on now, keep my coolness intact’, type sadness. Then I have to stay with her the whole night!! I could be off finding an intoxicated elder lady to wine and dine at fancy restaurants like Nandos. Instead I’m sitting next to her typing status’s into Rocco’s phone thinking it’s the most hilarious thing ever. I could be trying to get with my mate’s sister who keeps giving me the come to bed eyes, but instead I’m sitting with her big head lying on my shoulder. I didn’t sign up for this. I signed up for trying to steal her off her boyfriend, and show her life was much more fun over here where I play games. Somewhere though, on my journey of bothering someone who is in simple terms beautiful, I got distracted, by talking and getting to know her. I went a little bit off course and my game plan changed, and it seems as if just being next to her is normal now. Just for me to turn around and her be there, grinning at her own jokes, is just natural. Bloody frustrating though, a couple of months ago she’s in my bed doing kissing with me, wrapped up in the WWF covers. She’s lying there looking all prettiful and we’re talking about our dad’s and that quite nice isn’t it?

What isn’t quite nice is knowing that it’s never going to happen again. Annoying. I like kissing her it’s nice. I don’t want to really kiss anybody else. I’ve had enough of kissing everyone. I will if I have to though, I’m not a mug. But even so, even if I feel like I am capable of winning her heart, I don’t know if I really want to anymore. It’s not laziness, it’s more like acceptance, but not acceptance, something like that though. It’s not pride because she got with someone else after the times I got with her, but it’s something like that. It’s like realization, that she has to live her life, even if that doesn’t involve me in the position I want. I wish I could live loads of different lives, and make different decisions and act in different ways. Yeah, it’s like the acceptance of realization. Which I haven’t quite accepted.

I’m not ready to accept my membership to the friend zone, but I also find it tough to look her in the eye knowing that someone else has kissed her lips after me. I wrote the best bloody story I could with my lips onto hers. I feel like, the best thing to do, is to willingly just put myself into the friend zone, rather than be put there. But that will change everything.

Like last night for example, I’m being normal, and friendly. Acting like a friend. Likeability Factor flying around the room. And she has the cheek to get in a mood with me. If I had spade I would of clocked her on the nose with it. The problem is, in the friend zone people don’t act the same as they do when they’re not in the friend zone. Why would I be acting the same as I was a couple of months ago? A couple months ago I wanted to get with her, I was trying to win her heart. Last night I wasn’t.

Why was she in a mood? I don’t even think there has to be a reason for girls to be in a mood these days does there? One second sitting down having a laugh, next second doesn’t want to talk to me. Actually insane. The baby face doesn’t cut it with me. I don’t have time to be wasting watching her do her ‘I’m angry with you’ face. It’s boring. A little bit cute. But mainly boring.

She’s asking me why I’m sitting there in a huff. I don’t think I was. I’m quite good at pretending. I can pretend that I don’t care if she’s getting chatted up, or texting some prat. I can still have a laugh with her. I wasn’t forced to stay with her for most of the night, it kind of just happened. As I said before, I like when she’s near me. I could sit down next to her the whole night with nobody else in the club and not be bored. I still hate her though.

I’ll give another reason, my favourite yet. She’s mental in the head. Randomly not talking to me outside, then wants to wear my jacket because she realises it’s cold. I’m a gentlemen, the last of the true romantics. I’m also a prick. She’s not talking to me, she’s not getting my jacket. I do give in though when I look at her shivering to death like a lost little puppy. She can have my scarf. Wouldn’t take it though, because she is a stubborn prick.

Sitting down on a sofa, with a jacket over your head is not cool. She was getting cool, the more she was hanging around me the cooler she got. Ruined it though didn’t she. Sitting on the sofa, with a jacket over her head. She weren’t even drunk. Just sitting their casually ,all quiet, ignoring me, with a jacket over her head. Unless she was drunk? Luckily in the Friend Zone Rules only one drink is allowed to be purchased by a boy for a girl. So her attempts to get a second Malibu & Orange from me failed miserably or otherwise she would have been paralytic.

Thinking about it, she bloody better of been drunk. For what she said next was the most cruellest thing I have ever heard come from a friend’s mouth. I was flabbergasted.
Picture this, here’s me, wanting to go home. I’ve gone back to my mates to make sure they get a taxi and get home alright. Stayed pretty sober thus not to ruin my life like I did on Halloween. Obviously, in a perfect world, I wanted her to come back to mine and watch Life Is Beautiful and talk about our dad’s. Still suspicious mind you to why she was so keen to go Watford and home. I want her to want to stay and feel safe and happy in my house. I know I live in the fucking ghetto but come on, it’s not as if I don’t know every single soul that walks the streets. Plus she’s stayed many times before and helped herself to my sausages. (sex joke for Russell if he ever reads it). You know what I mean, Little L’s fry ups.

Anyway, thinking about it, she bloody better of been drunk. For what she said next was the most cruellest thing I have ever heard come from a friend’s mouth. I was flabbergasted. I thought she may have been committing suicide in the bathroom, so I dared to step where no man should ever go. Into the bathroom, when a girl is in there. But there she was, just standing up against the wall, looking all tired and sad. I felt, like she wanted me to say something, I felt like I should, but I didn’t really know what to say, like that kid in the playground who’s getting cussed and can’t think of a comeback. Then she starts talking, and the filth she came out with, well I never! Luckily I know that she loves me, because I could have been truly offended. She ripped into my whole life. She’s gone from holding my hand in the pub, to this … ‘What the fuck do you do with your life anyway, you just sit in pubs all day and do nothing’. Not actually true. ‘You’re a prick, you know nothing about me bla bla bla’. Not actually true either. ‘You only started talking to me because you thought I was fit’. Ok, that one is true.

The point is, you’re right. A mixture of being a prick, being lazy & just feeling like I don’t want to live my life the same as everyone else, just because that’s the way it appears you have to live, has led me here. Mistakes have led me to you. Now by all means, you can use a time machine and take me back to where I could of gone Uni, or got a job. But you know what that means? That means, I’m not out on that random Thursday that you’re in Harrow. I don’t invite certain people to come and sit with us. Everyone doesn’t go back to my house and stay over, as you sit there quoting Stepbrothers. I’m not there to shout out ‘work lot’. There’s no Little L & Betty, No toy dog or Woody Key-ring, No Rusko. No 10/10 kissing. No Back Game. No hair stroking. No business cards. No leg rubbing. No Maddie. No Snories. No Hitler hair. No Katy Perry.

I would still be sitting at home thinking your just fit. Not knowing that you have a mans confirmation name. You don’t get sick because you’re scared of sick. You don’t think you’re ugly but you don’t understand why everyone fancies you. You get scared, worried and nervous about things that you don’t need to be scared, worried and nervous about. You don’t like crisps, you like kettle chips. You want to try modelling, but you’re scared, worried and nervous about it. You get overly excited about getting in to nightclubs to the point where I look at you trying to control yourself from jumping up and down and squealing. You try your best to not laugh at my jokes, but you know I’m the funniest. You’re so stubborn, you won’t give in even when you know your wrong. You have things & opinions to say. And a life away from the one that people think you live.

Anyway, I’m having a great time, not the best time. I’m not happy, but I’m not unhappy about it. I’ve barely known this person properly for 7 months, most folk have known her 7 years. I’ve got a lot of laughs and moments to catch up on. **evil grin**. I wouldn’t take it too seriously. It’s only life at the end of the day. We’re not going to get out alive. Might aswell spend it having a good time, creating memories. Maybe I’ll get pissed off now and again knowing that she’s not going to stay with me all the time, and maybe I’ll get jealous. Jealousy is often seen as a bad trait, but is it? If there is no Jealousy surely there is no love?

I’m lucky I hate her then.


For Chubsta, I hate you, with a pash. x

The Epiphany

This building is falling apart like my heart. Roof caving in from the raving that’s been paving the hallways & stair cases. It’s not just one of those phases, the ones that your memory erases. Like tracksuits and different coloured shoe laces. Hanging out in shit places with the same old faces. Under the tree when it’s raining, linking your girl and she won’t stop complaining. She would of preferred to stay in with Eastenders & a Chinese or something.

It was a good year, eight beers for a fiver, a school day skiver, last man standing on the all nighter, a lover not a fighter. Pass round the joint & the lighter. Fit girl walks past and we point but I like her. MySpace, Facebook, or Skype her.

This building is rotting away like a blood clot locked in the brain. Begin with the 2010 games. Don’t feel the same but the jokes still remain. 8 beers now cost £6.50 get dressed quickly. Milk thistle is my saviour for today, don’t condone this behaviour turn away the MDMA. Swap the Reefa for Fifa you can do your thing I’m not guna beef ya. Order a cab because the pub is well too far for us to walk again. It’s freezing outside & I get no protection in this cardigan. Finish off your dominoes, you have pizza all over your face. On your chin on your nose, you’re a disgrace to the human race. I’m not hanging around with you tonight you make us look disabled, you’re like a division two player hanging around with a premier league player who’s top of the table, I feel like a horse hanging around in a donkeys stable, stop acting like a Wembley market t-shirt on the same rack as a top class label. This is SKY HD going on a night out with Cable.

How can this girl I.D me when I look old enough to be her father. And I’d rather be her father because I’d lock her in her room and starve her. Her figure is blocking the spirits and I like to browse before I purchase. Jack Daniels please and snappy before my dinner starts to regurgitate. My eyes are telling she’s what you’d see if Rik Whaller & Michelle McManus merge their weight. How long do I have to wait? It’s taking you 10 minutes to turn around, someone get this girl some roller skates.

The pool table looks attractive in here, especially as it’s free. I’m no Ronnie but with a few drinks inside of me I’m trick shoting like John Virgo on the BBC. Lose a bit of money in the fruity machine don’t know how to play it but I thought I’d just get lucky.

Moving onto a club it’s well cheap for taxis in this seaside town. All of us each only have to pay a pound. Free to get in because my mate knows the geezer he’s sound. Bit dead in here & the music is too loud. Dub step ain’t quite my thing so after a few hours I duck out.

At a bar on my own, the drinks are in full flow and they don’t even require you to have dough. The barmaid in here is pretty talkative, the kind of girl that you ought to give some attention to. She does wonder why I’m on my own, but keeps feeding me double JD & cokes. She asks me if I smoke, I accompany her on her fag break and take a few tokes. This bar is full of blokes. Trying to sing out loud to Katy Perry, I look at them & laugh then glance down at my blackberry. I just cannot believe what I see, I stare at it for a while and find it hard to breathe. I walk out of the bar and start walking down the street.

I look down at my phone and second glance this picture I can see. She is unbelievably beautiful & on my nights out she should not be kind of with me. I shouldn’t be thinking about her when I’m chatting up a barmaid, and I shouldn’t prefer to text her than get laid.
I just want to go back to my mates, but I can’t remember his address because it changed from the last time I stayed. The barmaid said I can come back to her place and sleep. But the look on her face says she’d prefer to do anything but sleep. She say’s she has drink at hers & sweets. So I wait for her to finish work and we get into a cab & leave.

I cannot believe what I’m seeing, student accommodation, realization that this place must hold mental patients, got to be patient, climbing to her floor, trying to be quiet but there’s creeks from the floorboards. This place is a mansion, 2nd year top house scouting, Barbie doll girls in each room pouting. Say hello and then keep walking , house full of girls up talking. Pool table on your floor like this is amazing, fridge is full for raving. No food & I’m hungry. 2 hour’s later and this has become an after party. Heads laid out on the settees, just me and the barmaid up making teas. No sugar for her she’s already sweet.
She said I can come with her if I want to get some sleep, but I’ve seen her kind before & I know where that leads. She walks off and doesn’t look best pleased but I lie down on the sofa and tuck up my knees.


It’s the morning and it’s a whole new twist. Going to sleep I never expected this. I’m more sober than I’ve ever been I’m not at all pissed. I feel something and it must be a lot like bliss. Something changed and it must have been with a kiss, but this epiphany has hit me and it starts to stick. I get a glass of water and I take three sips. I pour the rest down the sink & think chips & dips. This is not a mad trip, this isn’t a loss but a win, woken up to the truth so I can say hello now, gotta bring you back in. You have to be in the game, so I know what’s happening, look at my phone and I grin.. Look at my phone and I grin.

Remember Me

Apparently these days if you dress a certain way, maybe to the tastes of your musical idols, or just listen to a certain type of music, that gives you a God like power to say what is ‘good’. E.G. ‘I listen to The Beatles & then some various other bands that aren’t in the charts so that means I can tell you that Robbie Williams is shit’. It’s hypocrisy at it’s finest. You can’t say you’re indie but then copy the way someone dresses. You cannot tell someone else what ‘good’ music is. It’s about feeling, it’s always been about how the music connects to it’s listener. So I come onto the film ‘Remember Me’ , where Jim Lane, 68, from Sacramento wants to review it. JIM LANE, why would a film about a 22 year old man, with no direction, and a strained relationship with his father strike a chord with you? IT WOULDN’T ! SO SHUT YOUR NOISE.

I’ve been speaking about this film all day, and most of what I have heard has been pretty negative. ‘Worst Film Ever’, ‘I nearly fell asleep in the cinema’. I can only come to the conclusion that these people do not have the brain capacity to understand how beautiful & inspirational this film is. Or maybe it’s just that I have a lot of ignorant & naïve friends. Friends who’s lives are so hunky dory & perfect that they can’t identify with ‘dysfunctional‘. Then I thought about it, most of my friends are a 2.4 children family. Mum & Dad sitting at home cosy together, still happily pretending to be in love. Everyone doing well at school or university and everyone getting along thanks to the rules. So why would they relate to this character? They wouldn’t.

Tyler Hawkins is a man who has been sleepwalking his way through life. He has no direction, no plans. He has unresolved issues that he can never sort out. He also has a near zero relationship with his dad. Tyler is turning 22 the same age his brother Michael was when he killed himself, he is feeling the bitterness & hurt from the fact that life hasn’t turned out how he wanted it to or expected it to. People these days are too happy being normal to understand this character. But he strikes a chord with me. Lord knows I don’t give a monkeys about Rpat and Twilight. However I do give a monkeys about Tyler Hawkins. I’m 22, no direction, no plans, no job, a zero relationship with my dad. I see how this guy lives, day by day, just being himself & not caring about anything. I wait everyday for opportunity knocks but it never comes. Then I see him die. I see him die at my age, with his whole life in front of him. I’ve always known and appreciated the fragility of life. Yet it hits harder when you see this guy fall in love, then mend bridges & when he finally gets on track, it’s over. It’s scary to think I could be that guy. No-one on September 11th 2001 knew what was going to happen. They didn’t know that there was no more time for them to live & right all their wrongs.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not going to start going on peace making missions with everyone I’ve ever had a quarrel with. I have no intention or never have of having a relationship with my dad. But it does make me think again, about the people I care about now. Make sure you make every day count, make sure you don’t leave anything un-said, take risks, don’t be afraid, seek out your dreams & don’t be embarrassed to tell someone you love them. For one day it will be too late. You get one life and it’s a short one. I speak for myself when I say I can’t be wasting it wondering what if ?

We cannot guarantee anything. On Ally & Tyler’s first date, Ally said that she has to have her dessert first because she cannot guarantee that she will be alive to eat it last. It’s a scene that punches me in the face when you realise what Tyler’s fate is. She says ‘an asteroid might hit the restaurant before she gets to have her dessert’. For her she has to have her dessert first, but that’s just a subtle yet incredible way of saying do what you need or want to do most NOW for later may never come. For other’s it might be tell someone how you feel , go to a certain country , live out a particular dream. There’s no use in me going to university for three years to get a degree I don’t care about if an asteroid hits the building the day before I finish. Do something you care about while there is time! Ally asks Tyler to guarantee her it won’t happen and she’d eat her dessert last. He couldn’t. Because we can’t guarantee anything.

I fail to see the point where people are saying that the twist was ‘insulting’ & ‘offensive’. First off I clocked the twist as soon it said ‘10 years later’ from 1991. Why else would the film be set in 2001 if 9/11 wasn’t going to have something to do with it?
I find it offensive that people are saying that it would have been better if Tyler was murdered or run over. What about families who have lost loved ones to that kind of incident? Remember Me is there to show that although 9/11 was a national disaster, the people who died were individuals and not just statistics. The whole point is for us to watch a normal family with issues & problems (maybe just like our own) & finally getting them resolved to then realise they are now one of the 3000 odd stories that could have been told.

Tyler’s death ultimately allows everyone else to live. The last family member was the one who he at first wanted nothing to do with. His dad says to him ‘I may be a while’ and Tyler’s last words to him are ‘That’s fine’. Tyler had been waiting for his dad to be back in his life for a long time, and in the end he will have to wait forever, however his dad now knows that it was okay. Tyler didn’t mind waiting knowing that his dad was with the one person Tyler probably loved more than himself. Caroline. She was getting bullied & with Tyler frightening the bullies by throwing the Fire Extinguisher through the classroom door & her Dad back in her life, she can now move on. His dad has now become a better father, and after seeing the photographs on his dad’s computer Tyler died knowing that he was loved by his dad. (Of course his dad will also seek comfort in knowing he rebuilt his relationship, however doesn’t know that Tyler saw the photographs, this may make him make more of an effort with Caroline to ensure she always knows he loves her). Tyler’s best friend Aiden is seen now working hard on his studies & has now got a tattoo dedicated to Tyler, mirroring Tyler’s tattoo to his dead brother Michael. Then finally Ally, the girl who Tyler fell in love with. Unexpectedly but a person he needed in his life to bring out his heart. She can now use the subway after the murder of her mother 10 years previously. Realising that death can take you at any moment, no matter who you are or where you are & you cannot be scared of it.

I’ve always had issues with death. I’ve always wanted to be remembered. It scares me to think I will live but one day people will never realised I even existed. This film has shown me a new light. Maybe I don’t have to do anything significant or special to be remembered. I don’t have to be David Beckham or Elvis to live after I die. Just be myself & my actions will make a difference to peoples lives & they will remember.

Remember Me is more than the twist. It is a film about 9/11, but the twist is there to make you sit up and realise you have just watched a story of an individual. Remember 9/11 but Remember Tyler. Remember each individual & their story. Remember they touched people’s lives. Infact Remember every individual who has ever died. Whenever. However. They had families, and hopes and dreams. Just like me & you. For us it’s not too late.

‘Whatever you do in life will be insignificant, but it's very important that you do it. Because nobody else will. Like when someone comes into your life and half of you says you're nowhere near ready, but the other half says: make her yours forever.’

Cyaround Chips & Dips

In the end that never comes the only thing that matters is the truth.
What never comes is the end of things that are felt and hiding somewhere else.
Not in the heart no more nor playing with my soul keeping it company.
Not in my head, not in my bed, somewhere else where what is said is not believed.
Like I always tried to get across, I won’t be cross, if every word you speak is real.
Not spiel, not lies, not stories round alibis that bore me to sighs and shrink me.
Not tiny glances, or one more chances, or weights on my back that sink me.
Tell your mates you link me and like me the kind of guy you could marry or might be.
I’m not a might be I am me. The Only.
In the end the only truth that matters is yours.
A million questions with a long pause.
Always ready for your phone calls, sometimes waiting but I knew they would come.
Never bored, the laughs roared and the smiles rose like the sun.
But like the sun it dawns and when it becomes too easy so do the yawns.
It’s not about the questions. They’re hardly ever answered.

Should I have regrets that your lips lay so very close to mine and our eyes spoke so many different words? Walking on the empty street to yours, if I were more of a sober man in spirit would of our thoughts been heard? If I weren’t so much in hope of writing us as if we were a tale, could what we were heading for been something too creative to not be real.
In the end the only thing that doesn’t matter is my truth.
The mocking accents and the words that dribbled off your tongue.
The way you took my accent, & people noticed and said ‘Why are you speaking like James Gunn’.
Like my bum? You watch my lips? Camel, Avatar, Chips and Lovely Dips.
I laughed and it was genuine. But I doubted like I had never thought to before.
Suspicious minds. Foolish hearts. Easily blinded by cheap phoney laughs.
You gave me back my living that is for definite. I was dead before I started quizzing. A clown isn’t always kidding. I’ll miss listening to you singing, as soon as I picked up when you were ringing. I always knew you would be trouble. I always knew how it would end. I never jumped into it ever expecting to come out with you as a friend. And I haven’t. But my face is not dancing around with shock written upon it.
I’m a gambler. I dare to spin. I put friendship on the line to win. More than what I had because I wanted everything. Friendship often ends in love, but love end in friendship. Never.
The closest that I came in hindsight was when we were ‘together’.
There’s 3 truths. Mine, yours and The Truth. In the end, it actually doesn’t matter.
You have and I will find something better. It’s just like your first school. A rehearsal.
Moving on to new things. And if your not coming with me then the chances are that we won’t remain friends. We had good times but they are just memories that will fade in to the past. The book of nothing. Maybe indented slightly into the heart. And I guess that’s at least something. I could sit and write a book of hateful words. A story of invisible scars versus paranoia. Pictures of a love that was fabricated, word of mouth created. Not soul on soul manipulated. Time lost waiting. Won’t come back with time spent hating.
If are mouths have not spoken to each others ears. Then your hand across my back appears like it stops my body from being able to feel. Understand that please. For once maybe I would of turned around so pleased. Brought you close to me. The way that it was supposed to be. I live with hope or I would fail to dream. But I don’t live with madness. I already appreciate that begun has not the sadness of my life. I do at the time what I think is right. I go with my senses. I live without complaint of the consequences. Your face will always make me breathe heavily. For I loved. Real but not true. I’ve walked close by your side readily but steadily. Always ready to be pushed or tripped.
I hope I fall. Upon something or someone where I don’t have to be ready. Where the doubts don’t have a place to exist. Where my lips are the only place to kiss. Where it is real. Not for needing. Not for fear. Not for Beauty. Not for Class. Not for Money. Not for Fame. Not for change. Not for being number one. But for being the only one. Where the truth is what I feel. What I see. What I hear. What I’m told. What I believe. What I know.
Truth is Beautiful.

James Gunn

The Sanctuary Of Nothing

Here it's always simply boredom. No Feelings. No Truth. No Hidden Meanings. No Love. No Hate. No Nothing. No Truth.

I guess her beauty looks around.
On the streets of men who buy pints for a pound.
I wonder if her soul it thinks
Perfections come to the ugly brink


Her smile dances up and down this street
And her footsteps heel the cracks in the concrete
Her arms are crossed and worried look her brows
As across the road play aggressive drunken rows


I think I like the way that she looks at me
That while I’m close by she’s not far from safety
And I could sit and watch this girl for hours
Wince from the taste of our apple sours


Steady are the eyes of men who sit & watch her walk
Staring at there unknowing prey like a randy red tailed hawk
She has got away from them but I have been left caught
For she got me forever from the moment that she talked …

Mini Jam Jar

My soul is having a raging party inside my dead out high buzzing body
like what the fuck, I want to dance ...just cant be fucking arsed.
Maybe one hand in the air then, yeah just sway it side to side,
people on the sofas watch tele, jump on board, this is a fucking ride.
Single ladies, single men, grab on to my sides, this has gone all slow motion this beer potion is sublime.
My lip has grown a pulse that started off slow and steady, and my foot taps gently to the beats that come before I'm ready. These girls and boys shit is almost medieval , the armour shines, as a dappa suit, eloquently regal. I almost feel that this is just a little bit out of my league, I don't deserve the invite, But I'm fitting into the prestige. Its boosting my self esteem, like a dream that I'm in control of the ending. Apart from I’ve woken up and I cant get back to where I was so I just sit down here and blend in. 4am and people are pretending, that they’re fucked off their face on Ketamine , bars shut or I'd get em in. Dressed up posh girls lying across a rich mans lap, the kind of prat that you'd love to give a slap. Full bottle of champagne falling out of his hand. I'll have that cheers chap. I'm sure you'll understand, when you wake from your nap. Why don't I have a bar inside my house? With a man that serves me JD for free ? And every kind of whiskey that I've never seen. Underneath the canopy the table full of greens and cheese. And drunk toffs sleeping underneath. A few people up, looking at me like im a thief, this Primark shirt didn't come for free. I should probably just leave, but the trains don't start for another couple of hours. And I'm enjoying taking pictures of men in a coma from 3 apple sours. James continues to scour. Fit girl getting sick in the shower allow her. Up the stairs, that twirl around in a spiral, getting dizzy like rascal. Surrounded by assholes. I was a plus one as a favour. Not really on going out, but two hours later, I'm Britain’s next top raver. This parties saviour. Everyone telling me to watch my behaviour. Now I’m watching them watching Frasier. Up another floor. I'm pensive. Necking champagne that tastes expensive. Seems kind of empty. Looks kind of clean. Walk into a bedroom and she bumps into me. Mascara is running and her hair looks a mess. She looks at me and puts her arms around my neck. She says it's alright, unzip my dress. So I did and its drops to reveal both of her breasts. She pulls my face in and licks on my lip. Her hand goes down and down goes my zip. I lift her to the bed and clothes off with a rip. Go to reach for my jacket but can't get off her lips. No protection with this randomer but I'm too fucked to give a shit. Her legs rap around me and I'm in with my D**k. Champagne drops, and she lets out her cries, she scratches my arms, and I bring in her thighs. She strokes through my hair and I stroke through her soul. This IS for everyman who's been on the dole. I wake up, and Im on my own? Everything is silent, verging on eery. I get dressed and walk down a floor no-1 around getting larey. No girls around looking scary. This is starting to scare me. Turn on the TV its 11.30. Walk to the ground, everyone’s out, I grab a pound and let myself out. It's cold walking down this street on Sunday. Battery’s dead on my blackberry, don't even know the way. Fuck it's started to rain. I run to the end of the street, I look like a tramp that’s just taken beats. Luckily, I recognize a guy from the party, I ask him for directions and he says don't worry, I'm driving your way jump in with me. So i sit in the front seat, telling him this bloody story. About how I ended up with this women. Not the best looking, but her body was good and I was drunk and horny. I think he's hanging cos I swear he is trying to ignore me, so I shut up. We pull up outside my house and I say thanks alot I'll by you a drink if I ever see you out. He speeds oFf in his flash car, brand new mini, bought from the change he keeps in his jam jar. I go inside and use the house phone to call mark. I was his plus one and he left me in a house and fucked off. He answers I say where did you get to last night, he said everyone got kicked out after the guy who's party it was saw his mums painting was broken after a fight. I said fair enough alright, you could of still come and got me like. Apparently he came to look for me, everywhere and I was nowhere to be seen. I said to him fuckabout I was upstairs asleep, and he said, which room and I said on floor three. Apparently he was told that, that no-1 was allowed on floor three, because the guys mum was upstairs watching TV. Surely that doesn't mean? Nah no way, that I do not believe. I change the subject pretty quickly. How did you get home I said to him, he said he got a lift from Steve. I said who's Steve.He said the guy who held the party. I Said fair enough, I got a lift home too we take liberties, from who mark said, I said some guy from the party driving a brand new mini. Mark said, was he kind of short and skinny, I said yeah that’s him, what a tidy fucking car. And mark said yeah, that’s Steve he bought it from the change he keeps in his
jam jar.