Myhead at 10

Sometimes I think I'm a waste
I'm an unappreciative fuck
That was a wasteful attempt of a child
Sometimes I think about killing myself everyday
I fantasies if I had enough guts
If I had enough guts I do it now.
Tomorrow, yesterday years earlier
And I see how I always have these thoughts
Because one day we all die
Why waste time in-between
The most effective way to live
To help the world as much as you can, don't be one person
Be no person
Don't adopt, breed, live and inspire,
Kill and die too.
Sometimes I'm happy and I look down to where I sit now and think, I'd still give this up for death
I find my future hard because I don't see a point
Make a difference, well if your not around someone else will make it
I think who started certain things,
How did it get so big, become so popular?
well maybe people saw it and copied,
Maybe two people both did it, and people just followed..
Maybe someone did it, with out ever seeing that other person's and so it still counts
As originality..
But basically I wish someone would give me
That universal purpose that everyone had
That simplicity in life
That goal
That sort of happiness
But I don't,
I was born with not a loathing
I've never done much wrong,
It is a general lack of anything
Of everything

White Rabbit Hole.

That feeling you
get when you realize
that
Time has changed.

A picture
from five Years.
you are You.
But not

That same face
with those thoughts
behind it
anymore.

It also causes my
Stomach to rise and make rest
in the ceiling of my caged
insides.

Buttered flies crawl out
from the wound
the collision
caused.

Time changed,
and nothing need be changed
but I have
for the worst and that is sad.

A mindful of the mindless

I'm an idiot. When

One and one sit in 

front of me

I leave them as one and

one. 

I think one day 

One day.

When I'm grown up

I'll make two but I'm just 

Such an idiot.

I'm hoping I'll see when

I want. I'm hoping I'll 

have 

Courage, to say no,

say yes.

I have no confidence, 

Unknown insecurities

Indecisive.

i write what I know,

so I should

Not write anything

Ever

at all

One and one.

Stay segregated.

Like a love 

story. But I

want one and one.

Lazy mannered.

Nothing was and is

Easier.

Nicole leaves soon

Nicole leaves for two months on Saturday. I won't see her until her return.
All of my friends leave for the summer soon.

Maybe I should try harder

No exception.

I think of some words and
The first to appear is
They
Not me, I'm not included
I'm somehow different
and in different I am better.

I know some people
They strive for a unique appearance.
As the worst thing could be forgotten.
I believe that. The worst thing is to
be forgotten.
That drives us to try.

Why tales of heroism
Tend to be the favorite tales
Why we study the villain
Why every story contains the fate of the
Earth.
When really,

No decision ever really mattered
but we all enjoy when we are flattered

Melbourne.

We moved from focus

We enjoyed ourselves.

We did tourist things.

We took lame photos in a mirror before we left.

We captured the moment.

We watched a few gentlemen play styrofoam cups.

We looked pretty.

 We read menus.

We tried on clothes that cost more than their worth.
We learnt about things we could have learnt from home.

We sung in interesting places.

We danced when we sung.

We loved. 

 We looked dumb.

 We went to museums.

 We saw art exhibitions. 

We stole ideas. 

 We looked more.

 We did this a bit.

We waited patiently.

I appreciated the people I could appreciate at home. 

And I'm happy to now know them.

#lyf

With a language so thick it rivals the silhouette of the new aged man
A world where all words are borrowed
Where even the unsaid has been said, said
So much it is re-said, written, appropriated, misappropriated
Photographed, then re-photographed as a caption painted on a
Piece of cardboard held by a homeless man. So deep
And meaningful, my sarcasm sickens me, as I
Mock the only aspects of human life that is left redeemable. Finally
You've seen something, but just because
Something is new to you, it has actually been
Explored, exported, exposed, and then expired, for lives
Of others have been dedicated to one tiny feature of what you just
Thought for the first time.

Following the knowledge of everything, the
Varsities of scientific knowledge, constantly revolutionizing
The world, the distance this century
Has gained over others before.

Why then haven't I grown? They have
Merged and circulated. And circulate and they
Keep on going, until we don't know the origins
Anymore. But like a circus tent missing the center support
Beam, will technology be our only saviour? Is
Technology our only originality of this time.

When irobot rises, I will become a
Believer, or whatever the second coming goes
Like. Not like I know. I am the
First generation raised on veggie tales as the
Only biblical teach.
Is it an idiom or just another idiot?
I can scarcely see my own
Feet, than trace my own beginnings. Sad, I was
Culturally raised to not see past my next meal, I cannot even
Plan for a future that could revolutionized even
My cat's next birthday.

There is so many things going on, but none
Of them Important. None of them worthy of any note.
We need to do more daily then help ourselves. We are
Meant to work our mindful jobs serving
Chaplin's huge machine, so someone can import
Themselves and relax by a white poolside
With children to grow up in a giant party that
Burns them out just before 30 with one nostril remaining, a
Powerful wardrobe and track record that Satan can pass
Shame on. So what is the point of that then.

Someone tell me, tell me anything tell me
Everything you have to say, even any thought that
Has flashed through that void of a space you have.
You think all this for so long anything to hit
Anything to inspire. Then smelling like corn
Wrapped in suede with a
Black scarf tightly holding a head in place
Sit down to occupy the seat next
To me. Tell me anything,
Just as long it isn't an Ironic Cliché.

Little Camper Man

Today I stole part of a child's assignment.
I'm not proud of myself.
Waltzing Matilda was the title,
of a diorama of an old box.
The inside was covered in bush trees
containing remanence of bush trees.

Some ladies praised it,
from their approval I knew I wanted it.
When the buses pulled in,
everyone pulled out, with all eyes off,
Mine remained on as I slipped in my shopping bag,
the little camper man.

I'm considering giving it to my mother for Christmas,
A thought, I'm even more ashamed of.

Nudes

We always used to share them
They made me laugh. You
would wait for everyone's bed
time. Then you would make
Your way out of clothes. Snap
up a moment. Mine forever.

I saw my mum yesterday.
Visited her, the first in four
years. She handed me an
old usb, containing all old
pictures I kept. Little anime
girls. Then glory-full, you.

My poor mother, to have
seen my shame. As you
stood out the back of a friends
covering nothing, playing
handball with no one.
Edited in high contrast
afternoon light, more my delight.

An Afternoon.

I don't want to.
I'm sorry I sat quiet,
But I didn't know how to break to you,
I didn't want to have sex.
I'm not like you,
I've a heart
I learnt promiscuity only made me feel uncomfortable.
You wouldn't know,
You think it is a mark of success
Mark of male-hood
You don't know life
You'll look back one day and wonder where you went wrong
I can see it now,
You're constantly wrong.
You are harboring someone you love in there,
Hoping one day she will come back.
I can't imagine how you do it.
But you still lie there stroking my bum.

I cringe at the thought, if I didn't hesitate.
I need trust myself more.
I shouldn't second guess me,
I am embarrassed for letting that incident come to pass.
Even if nothing happened.

Possession

You can never really possess anything, or anyone.
This is nothing but a phallic fantasy.
When you leave no one will scream, no one will cry.
Your departure doesn't measure the relationship.
You can not measure a relationship.
The only thing that goes into anything is time,
And a welcoming face.
No one need know otherwise,
Ever.
And so they shan't.

-ism

A hard stone, sits where my stomach sat.
So this is what it feels like when you loose your job.

Too old for this shit.

I felt the little fingers peck around, as they squeezed around my underwear. I was ready, I loved it. It had been a while and the thought of having even a little touch excited me immensely. I lay under his right side, and he prepped himself up so his weight wasn't squashing me. I wanted his hand to caress, so slowly while kissing his neck, so I slid my hand over his to instructed his fingers where to touch with my own. It was hot, he thought so, his mouth instantly watering, and kissing became more a forceful pressure. What had been teasing pecks like sprinkling rain, became lustrous competition. His mouth changed shape dramatically, from a small opening to a huge one, confusing the fuck out of me. He spread salvia not gently around my mouth, to a point where it might be more appropriate to say, saliva around the bottom half of my face. His tongue punched its way into my mouth with extreme puncture I didn't have time to welcome it, before the eel was hastily removed in a similar fashion. I kept optimism.
My life had always told me to stay optimistic, I went through a divorce when Jake was younger, lately my exhusband who immediately remarried, is broke. My son, recent direction, can't manage cents, and likes to "get loose", optimism told me, his life his choice. Now I am here. Following that note maybe optimism isn't the best spiritual philosophy.
I moved my hand closer to his fly and pulled on his jeans in my direction. He instantly stopped everything pulled my remaining  clothes, down my legs, to abandon them on my feet. His actions weren't romantic, it was rough and rushed jerking and tugging at buttons and zips that a gentle hand would have mastered. His mannerisms mimicked those in crisis. He was displaying his age, his inexperience. Since the first stimulation of this encounter, I second guessed my actions. I looked down at my chest, my legs, my feet. My shock was quickly swallowed. To remember that you're not what you used to be. That things have changed, aged. My internal reflection made to impact to his flickering eyes. I had seen that look before, a moments refocus on the task at hand, in his hand, his dick. After losing momentum caught in trivial actions the jeans were finally pushed down to his knees, both I admirable and despised. It showed over whelming want to have sex, and his expectation to leave immediately after. Finally able to abandon my guilty contemplation,  and relax in a free feeling. The feeling of having someone's phallus enter you, where biologically it is meant to go.  Entry was, and is always my favorite part of sex, when they slowly push through and you are wet and they are wet, and everything is too new and glorious to know if this is worth it or not yet. Once in, judgement of the male's performance begins. This guy's face dropped instantly, into an absent-minded face, the lips open in a relaxed circle shape. His eyes completely unfocused staring between my crown and my pillow. His body, contradicingly froze up. As if he was completely stumped on where to go next, or scared to move inchance of stirring a closure to the experience. I in opposition, I was almost awakened from my slumber. I pulled him in close to tug at one side, roll over I insisted. Not expecting a response, but expecteding compliance, I instead received inquiries. His back cocked up instantly, nervous. He pulled out so his head sat just at my entry point, teasing like food on hungary lips. Again I pulled him in, to force him around, he smile when realization was processed. I replied with tilting my hips forward and squeezing my lower torso muscles. Both of us loved every motion. I rotated around and squeezed and softened and... Just as impulsively as I started, he finished. Yanking himself free to let white liquid run on a patch of bedding. I had set myself up for the quick finish, I couldn't help but analyze why I didn't feel worse. I removed myself, rolling over the bed to land on my feet, then slowly walked to the shower. I wanted cleanliness, to remove that smell, his smell. It had been short, and if Jake finds out I will have hell to pay. But I didn't regret anything, for a short period of time, I had had something inside me that controls the world. So for all I cared, I controlled my world. Glancing back to see the remaining evidence, though was farewelled, by a new white filling the room, as he jacked my door open, squeeze through the opening, into freedom. We were now separate, we were both free.

Working on some new ideas. Sorry it is taking so long. They will be coming in small sections from now on. Inspirations are being drawn from, all aspects. I know there is a pop novel out on sex, but I've despite their efforts, always wanted to write about sex, being some intimate and usually undisclosed act. I have tried to twist the ending so you can't exactly get a grasp on the character. I always admire writing that forces audiences into the mind of a character which otherwise you would be unsympathetic toward. Knowing motivations means more then knowing the outcome. In contradiction to that, I also admire characters of whom don't need motivations toward things. They grab what they need for the lust of it, in any sense of the word pleasure. So that aside. "stay tuned"

confession.

It is funny, because sometimes I get nervous about posting. Like I'll get feed back of people thinking things. But then I remember, I do get feed back from friends, and some say they don't like it. They think it is weird. And that has never been a reason to make me feel like I should write differently. I want them to think things, I want them to see something that isn't written in other works. I want to continue to write, to find even the smallest minority of one person's left hand, that might possibly look twice at the things I write, for amusement.
For one person to think, "I've had that exact thought" is a life dream of mine.

The company I keep.

You’re a real idiot if you can’t manage to turn disappointment in life into a lesson learnt.

Is it jealousy

You really feel

I know you harbour it

There isn’t black or white in the world anymore

Everything is more then you put it down too

You know the answers but you don’t want them

You’ve known them for decades

You don’t want to change though

So you’ll look else where to get what you want

But you know in doing that,

Your cheapening your value

So you mock others for the same thing

Yet you justify your actions

You put down racists the same way they put down race

You could play the big cards if they were handed to you

You cant see past your own nose

Passing out judgment like you had better rights

Because you think you’re defending people

You think you’re defending some starvation

In a far off nation

Because that person said they don’t know political systems,

And it is then their own destiny to be on the bottom of the world

But can I ask how, does it look from the top?

Human nature is our curse

Your no exception

I’ll have you know that,

But please don’t let me interrupt

Just you carry on with your salvation

One slander at a time

They are human

And they are competitive

And they are consumers

And they are liars

They are individuals

They at least aren’t right now putting you down for no reason

You wouldn’t sleep at night if you faced the truth

That you are exactly like them

you are them,

they are you.

Now tell me again what makes you better then everyone in the world

And if so, why haven’t your wildest dreams come true

You have a hard time in reality

Because you’re surrounded and you can’t see it

You think if you’re not perfect,

Then you’re nothing

And you think if you’re not nothing

Then you have to be perfect

Humanity isn’t simple.

There aren’t two opposing forces in life

You can’t just pick one

You are more then that.

You are annoying me to think that you can

To spit how you are the perfection when you’re happy

Or hear how you are the biggest loser when you’re sad.

If you contradict yourself

Is that lying?

If so you are a liar.

If you ate a big lunch

Til your belly swells

If so then you are fat.

Do you repeat what you learn?

What if they are mistakes

What are you then?

You can’t answer that,

I understand why

Because the actions you take aren’t a definition of you.

You are only ever a product of your own environment

Only when you understand that you can manipulate that

Only when you get a hold on that can you change anything

Only when you accept that you will never rise above the rest,

May others see reason to raise you.

The shit Sex

And for a moment
If you were to look
From a point
That holds no view
See from a view
That can voice no point.

A percussion that grows
Like a jungle sound
Fueling every and any
All things
A heat encasing
Maybe stop the experience
Maybe stop the production
Both give you what you want.

What you want is peace of mind
or is it piece of heart
your after
Your deeper than a balance
Think before
Before you had a thought
Wasn't this interesting
Before you read it?

Last night

We all sat down in the usual fashion, legs in and under, backs straight, encompassing an entie room. We sat around it. There was a few of them I knew, reasons to why I came, well according to them it was anyway, but we all have own motives... To follow my own procedure, I scanned the line for any potentials. I mean who am I to miss an opportunity, that is why I'm in this situation, cause I ride my opportunities until they are throwing up in a random house, and you figure out you actually aren't going to participate in that threesome anymore.
But I wasn't after the same goals any more, I had changed the posts, they moved from an AFL scale, down to a cricket stump. That is the kind of change I'd figured. But you know if I happened to wonder in on some situation in which I would experiment with some willing individuals, who would I be? Who really would I be? I don't know who I am, so the questions are all open in every way.
And that is precisely where this goes, I know I've thought about things for a while, I mean I've come close. To sit down and wonder into thought completely, that you come out thinking gay. People always think I'm gay, 'cause I'm always understanding women. I mean they aren't that difficult. What's that, you want attention? And... that it is, everything stems from 'they want attention', and they want you to fight to give them that. They put up barriers, and you give them attention for it, and they like you before you know it. They can even fall in love with their own ideas if you leave enough mystery to your answers, and then before you know it, they love 'you' for the most general sense of 'you'. An abled body, who gives them attention. I guess they confuse their wants with reality, and hoping and all that disney hog wash they were fed as children. The actuality of what my brothers and I were raised on has made us down to earth, logical, even mechanical. But they need that in a partner, opposites attract. You might not see it all the time, cause some women are crazy, they are always just blowing out, privately of course, like a secret shame they don't want society to be aware of. That is why I figure it as my duty to tell my mates, when it happens, so they know that women are like this, and that they know I'm not in the wrong when I begin to move on before I've completely broken things off with 'the crazy'. They begin because there is always some annoyance they can't let go of. But before and after, they are all smiles. Rays of sunshine into your life, that is what people refer to them as. But if a girl is all sunshines, chances are, she either is intellectually challenged, or she never really loved you anyway...
The things life teaches you when you notice things. I know things we learn can't be applied to everything, like how nothing can go faster then the speed of light, but every few years you hear about how something is faster, so you know what they do, they increase the speed of light. Apply that logic to my thoughts, I know you aren't meant to like qualities, but maybe I'll just loosen the definition of qualities.. That's how life is, terms and concepts are fluid, you decide on the quality, the purpose and the outcome of what something is.
A chair, is a chair because you sit on it, but I sit on many things, so it is called a chair because it is made with the intention to be sat on. But a few things are made to be sat on. So can someone explain to me what a chair is?
Cause life is like that chair, or whatever an idea of a chair is, but this is all doing one under of me.

But back to my night in a circle... I spot a young thing looking at me, but then quickly looks down smiling, and turns her attention towards the source of noise. As usual she has already done the check out before I've even had a chance, and has been watching to see if I notice her too. So do I ignore that and completely go for the hotter friend next to her, which happens to be the source of the noise, but in doing so there are higher risks of ending up with nothing. Or do I attend to the attentional needs of this lady of whom is of a greater success rate. I don't know who reads this, but I don't know if you have ever been in a situation of choice like this. Where the oppositions are testing, and you really look at yourself from the inner, and think, what in life do you aim to achieve..
Being a chick, if she likes you a little, then she'll obsess a lot. That is women, in my experience, anyway. But the chances are if I'm 'searching for a soulful companion' (and don't worry, I don't exactly say that to girls, they like it better if your not good with touchy-feely stuff, but your heartfelt enough to realize they cause these feelings). I'll find one in the submissive female, who looks away and smiles, waits patiently enough for someone to notice her, while in the circle, I've already heard the hotter friend yell things. If I'm looking for a wild night I think she would be it.. That friend I now see, has had two drinks in a few moments, laughs louder then anyone and is not over opinionated, yet, but you know she would be, especially if she thinks people want to hear her laugh echo the ages. But the quiet one, is still quaint. Still looking around, still looking down. She isn't getting drunk, she is still obsessing over how people are perceiving her, acting like she is accidentially that awkward and shy, but you know, when you can represent yourself as well as she, she doesn't actually doubt herself for a second.
Fuck, now that I think about it, from the lack of interaction with the group, and an increase of sly glances, in my direction in which, are purposefully obvious. Girls like that have a much higher subtly then I should be able to pick up on. I mean it was clumsy of her, to have even have been spotted by me. But fuck, thinking about it. I don't even think it would be a hit and wonder, I think it would be a number and wonder. So looks like if I'm interested in something now, this evening, this lifetime even, I'm going for the out-going friend. I deffs am not in the mood, to screw around and only end up with a number, when I could push on all night with the friend and get lucky too.

So there we all are, standing up after my lead and wondering over, as the quiet one nudges so subtly under the table the loud friend about faces, both anticipating my arrival, and I make eye contact with the out-going girl for the first time. I don't hear birds sing, and eyes don't shape themselves into hearts. I just mentally tick a little box, and then watch her face to see if her expressions give the same impression. By now, the quiet one should have noticed I'm not looking to greet her first. Which for chicks is the bane of their existence, competition for attention, over each other. Probably why this one worked out so quiet, always being around this louder one.
We speak the usual greetings asking how their night is and shit I know they like to talk, but I don't take it in, because it falls into that category of information your brain forgets when you sleep cause it is useless for the living of the rest of your life. So to cut the middle man, I just don't listen from the start, I actually scout out my mates, as I am leaning into the girl's personal space, giving the impression like I want to hear it. But then when my reply doesn't satisfy, I cover with, 'Oh, wait what did you say? I couldn't hear you over the music'. She replies with a face of annoyance in saying "My friend wants to know the name of the friend with the beard, while I want to know the name of the friend with flat cap."
So fuck women, who needs them anyway. When you think you know one, when you are one, and still they don't want a piece of you, all they have on their minds is how to get dick. Insensitive fucks.

So I've just found the performance poet Scott Sandwich, I know right, what an artsy fuck we I must be to listen to a performance poet, but he is definitely a gentlemen that needs note, less gentle then I make out, but passes a powerful comment within society.

21st Century Vampires, is an exploration of how the image of a vampire has changed from a instrument of fear, into some kinky sex iconography that is highly edited for the youth being able to watch this mass medium.

He is a complete symbol for me, that begins with sublime. An experience that someone else has had a thought similar to me, but has verbalized it, with such precision that it concerns me to challenge to originality with any thought I've ever had. I would love it for people to relate and comment themselves on artist that have influentially penetrated their minds and thought processes, in a way that changes what it is to be a human, with unique human experiences.

http://scottsandwich.com/ < honestly this was confusing and hilarious. Playing fun again at pulp novels that capture the one dimensional layers of life. The tedious inners and outers of a simple stable life. Though there is a most mentionable quality, in which I'm not going to mention.

My patronage

Beginner,
This would be a good time, to start elaborating on what content and purpose my blog will fulfill, but I would be the worst person to tell you. I study at UNSW, Major in English, and a minor in Art History, so one day, when a piece of paper is received, I'll truly know, that I've succeeded in learning taste, and the mark I'll gain to identify with how much taste I can actually achieve. Oh! the excitement my mind has already started to link this day to the feeling. When a girl receives real taste.

Meanwhile, set your tubes up, and sit back for a regular mind blow, as I raise issue with thoughts and experiences that can't (can) be captured on a postcard.

Pet peeve in which I'm listening to now, is the capabilities for people to maintain a fight on the unsaid, rather then the said. I regularly under go the ritual of argument with my sister, and I'm always repeating the phrase, I love people's capabilities to blow things completely out of the contextual conversation. As if in some way, there isn't enough of stimulating conversation, or your building up within this complete unsaid scenario that is rising in your blood. Well it isn't said and terms need to be met, and you need to completely take a fresh breath of air before you blow your head off, embarrassing yourself within your company, and anyone that the witnesses choose to tell. Because, I am a teller, of stories, especially if I could hold your interest for more then a moment.