Monday, 31 March 2014

Mother, if it weren’t for this stubborn wine 
my mouth would quiver, and you can’t bear to see  
that I stumble among wretches and harlots 
while your children say goodnight to their saviour 
come the morning, I am drunken and hung 

Father, you are ruined and muted 
those damn hands useless, from the nest you built 
while the skies you see are always narrow 
in sequence your kin flew yesterday evening 
and you can’t stand to bare your wings 

Your eyes have skittered and hid with haste 
away from your hollow words, and you can’t imagine 
that I’ve left my brethren, to lay in scorched pastures 
to slowly rebuild my name 

I fell from clouds, clumsy and stubborn 
these lips quivering, I hadn’t been blessed with flight
my ears bleeding and my speech askew 
please lift my head and show me guidance 

as I sprout my wings alone 

Tuesday, 18 March 2014

A Wrecked Voice










I'm having a really hard time dealing with all the bullshit life seems to be throwing at me, it's relentless, it's scary, and I'm sick and tired of fighting.


I remember the opening lines from John Irving's book A Prayer for Owen Meany

"I am doomed to remember a boy with a wrecked voice" 


Now this struck a chord with me, I've always been a huge fan of John Irving and his ability to create relatable characters. I'm not saying I'm the boy with the wrecked voice, I believe that this quote can be interpreted into somebody looking at themselves, doomed within their own body. Now I'm fine with being trapped within my own body, I guess, I just wish I didn't have so many insecurities that stunted be from going the distance, from being the person that I've been striving to be, without constantly getting hit in the fucking face by my own brick walls. These insecurities and negative- self depreciating thoughts are my own brick walls. I've put them there.

You'd think I'd get better at dealing with my own personal issues, believe me, I thought one of these days I could just shrug them off and say "whatever".  There's nothing worse than waking up in the morning, and having to take a moment to grab your bearings and figure out how your mind is going to treat you today, could be all flowers and roses and daises, or it can be hurricanes and rat shit.

I'll let you guess which one is more frequent.

Monday, 10 March 2014

Drunken. Stupid. Accidents.



Why the fuck am I writing this?









I guess my childhood wasn't that blissful, no big vacations, my parents did their best when I was growing up, but the more I explored myself, the more I realized that I took a lot more comfort in my friends that I have had for the last 8 years. I moved to the city that I currently reside in when I was 13 years old. Straight from a farm, so it was a pretty big transition. I knew nobody, and being a weird 8th grader I was scared shitless. I wandered aimlessly around this big school that I wasn't familiar with, showing up late to every class because I couldn't figure out how to get around and was too shy to ask for directions, little did I know the friends I would meet here would change my life forever.

I wasn't too keen on making friends, my mentality was that all my friends were back where I originally came from, so why should I care? *Buzzer sound* Wrong. I would've been eaten alive in this mass of young teenage bodies, probably would've started doing heroine at the ripe age of 13, and probably would've died.

Heroin probably wouldn't of happened, but I would've had a hell of a time in gym class.

So I met my best friend, let's call him "T".

Now T is a colourful character, from the day I met him he's had this "Fuck you, motherfucker" attitude and he hardly stood/stands 5"7. Brilliant. As you can imagine this probably got us in a lot of trouble through 8 years, and you're probably fucking right, we drank together, smoked together. He really helped me retain a sense of freedom amidst having religion shoved down my throat, he never judged my family for being crazy religious, and I was able to talk to him. Although this lust for freedom was probably fuelled by teenage angst and rebellion. Taylor would end up being my best friend for 8 straight years, we've been through a lot of things together, my parent's divorce, my depression, we've brawled a few times while we lived together, after highschool which resulted in a broken nose and a 5"7 dickhead flying through the dry wall. We've had a pretty colourful relationship, but he's my best friend and I love him

I'd probably would've been doing heroin without him.




Godspeed Through Crimson White

For when I am old and bitter
I'll turn up my nose and sleep with tattered sleeves 
don't neglect that I was once remembered 
lived with wild eyes and feathered feet

When I am young an stubborn 
while my tongue unbitten and my hands can't keep still
don't forget patience, for I will be forgotten
there's merit my ashes will tell

As I predict you'll be bitter and surrendered
you'll take your words and fade away
and I'll take my tongue and I'll bite that liar
speak godspeed through crimson white

My, how my feathered steps have faltered 
my wild eyes slumber but I awake bitter 
you are gone, brushing over yonder 
with those words scrawled inside your palms 

Our beginnings have been scripted, rather than remembered 
and like jaded thespians, we'll reprise our roles 
while I'm tangled up in curtains, fumbling with drawstrings
the maddening crowd will roar you on

Clockwork






I fear the day that I am forgotten.


I have loved and have frittered away emotions more times then I'd like to admit, I have swallowed my pride and have dug deep into myself to try and find why these days always seem so bleak. I breathe in and out and sometimes wonder if it's in vain, am I here for some grand purpose that I'm unaware of?


I am hindered and scared, always seem to be just stuttering past.

Like in pervious posts, I'd like to refer back to- this is not a some whine fest. I don't expect sympathy, the purpose of this blog is to merely point of my opinions and feelings as of late. I am not sorry for myself. I am not envious of a chemically balanced brain.

Anti-fuckface



Incoming. 


While religious influence was strongly present throughout my childhood I wasn't able to maintain the whole kneel-stand mentality. That being said, I still believe that religion can provide the stepping stones to one's moral compass. 

The only goddamn problem I have with any religion, is the obligation to convert others, I understand that you pray to something that gives you comfort and piece of mind, but I'll stick to my cigarettes and 3 hour naps thank you. Now, the only reason I feel this way is because majority of my childhood-teenage years were spent clashing with my parents and the ideologies and values of said religion. I had a problem with a religion that was so constricting and judgemental, it was seriously a pissing contest between members, it was ridiculous. I believe that a religion should provide ample space for you to grow and learn as a person as well as promoting accepting others for who they are because doesn't god "love everybody"? 

I'm not anti-religion, I'm anti-bullshit. 

Now my beliefs? don't be an asshole, seriously. If you're going to live on this earth, ya'know among the other fuck ton of people. Then you should probably be a pretty considerate person, be courteous, you know the whole converting thing? yeah that falls into this category, let these people find their own path in life, something that isn't demoralizing and has a negative impact on others. Everybody's knickers are in a twist worrying about who somebody else marries, be it either gender. That's pretty fucked up if you ask me, but hey I'm just an testosterone filled 20 year old right? 

Sunday, 9 March 2014

Sleepy Swallows

You are bound to be seaworthy 
no doubt sparkling spirits will be cast upon your chest
do not fret, for there will be salvation
long after shots sail across your porcelain bow

Do not pray, for there will be silence
that ring from masses to starboard 
collect your thoughts, lord know you'll need them 
and bring forth the riddled dawn 

Muffle your cries among these anchors 
rest assured you've nudged port 
rest assured your nest had brushed sleepy swallows 
and fester forth your seasick eyes 

Be polite and you'll find glory 
sparsely but present, among your mangled crew 
much like you, they're bound to be topsy-turvy 
fastened sea legs upon bleak blackened shores 

You are bound to be seaworthy 
let those cannons be cast across your battered bow 
goddamn these swollen floorboards 
banking shots into shipshape clouds