To only knows who.

Tunes in my head: When You Sleep by My Bloody Valentine
Atmosphere: Happy

Apparently I'm the love child of Samuel Beckett and Germaine Greer, according to Mike.

Thank you all. From the bottom of my heart.

As up and down as it may have been on occasion, it really has been an honour to grow up as people with you all.

The pleasure and the priviledge has been mine and mine alone.

I'm just feeling jubilation right now. Happiness. Almost speechless.

To all the people who wrote on me today, thank you very much. So very much. Even the seemingly generic messages mean something to me.

The story is just beginning, my friends.

This chapter may be coming to it's conclusive moments, but the book is just being opened. New oppurtunities are becoming evident by the day.

Time to take life as it comes.

Keep in touch. Keep reading. My story is just beginning. Our story is just beginning.

Even if we disappear from each other, there will always be remergences, there will always be appearances, there will always be reminders.

To my seniors. Thank you, Michael. Thank you, Scott. Thank you, Lesley. Thank you, Lyn. Thank you, Trevor. Thank you, Andrew. Thank you, Julie. Thank you, Rob. Thank you, Janelle. Thank you, Joshua.

To my peers. Thank you, Chris. Thank you, Rhiannon. Thank you, Rebecca. Thank you, Sarah. Thank you, Anna. Thank you, Hans. Thank you, Katrin. Thank you, Thomas. Thank you, George. Thank you, Peter. Thank you, Leo. Thank you, Ivana. Thank you, Olivia. Thank you, Clinton. Thank you, Ankesh. Thank you, Cheng. Thank you, Shirley. Thank you, Bas. Thank you, everyone who didn't write on me who knows they're important to me.

It's been such a wild ride. I think I'll end with this song.

Well I'm needing less restraint than before
Well I'm needing to hit the lights and close the door
I'm fine, I'm fine
Cause I'm

Dripping in this strange design
None is yours and far less mine
Hold the wheel, read the sign
Keep the tires off the line
Just relax, you're doing fine
Swimming in this real thing I call life
Can I bring a few companions on this ride?

Well I'm feeling, my heart's not beating anymore
Well I'm feeling. it's alright, this happened once before
I'm fine, I'm fine
Cause I'm

Dripping in this strange design
None is yours and far less mine
Hold the wheel, read the sign
Keep the tires off the line
Just relax, you're doing fine
Swimming in this real thing I call life
Can I bring a few companions on this ride?

Thankyou, and for now, goodbye.

- Liam McCann
30/09/09

I'll never lay down the phone.

To Scott.

(I can call you that now, right? Considering I'll only be a student for another two days.
Oh, come on. I'll pay you in icecream pizza.
Please?
Okay, fine.
If it really offends you to be called that, just replace all instances of your name with
“Mr S. Henretty” or something.
I mean, you'll always be “sir” to me, so whatever, homie.
ANYWAY, THIS TOMFOOLERY SHOULD CEASE NOW.
ENOUGH.)

I don't know where to really start with this, so I guess the beginning is probably the best place to do such.

I remember distinctly the first school day of 2006. I'm sure you remember it vaguely too. My distinct memory is being over the other side of the room from this arsehole. He was operating some overhead projector and practically acting like Hitler. I recall thinking to myself “oh, what a fucking arsehole, this year is going to be absolute utter torture.”

Oh, how wrong I was.

Two weeks later, I come into the class, dreading the next hour. The person leading the class, however, had changed. Not physically, he was still the same not-so-young (heh) teacher who was there before. In terms of what he said, what he did, however, he had vastly changed.

I realise now he was merely revealing his true self.

Now there was this eccentric, extremely funny, quintessentially sarcastic British bastard.

I start liking English soon after. Coincidence? Maybe so. Maybe not. Over the ongoing year, I made a note of my own personal behaviour. Instead of being the shy kid who would hide inside his shell like I was previously, I started to emerge from the cacoon a bit. I decided to talk more, to go on a limb, to take a chance. To not be afraid of who I am.

I mean, when you've got an enthusiastic, full on teacher talking to you (not at you, as previous experiences had shown,) what's the point of holding back and hiding? Reveal who one is.

Eventually, to speed the story up, I ended up doing Drama, possibly as a direct result of this madman, possibly not. (I can't remember exactly.) I started leaning heavily towards the Arts side of the subject spectrum. I started writing more. Short stories at first, then poems, then scenes, and finally plays. I started being more experimental in myself and living on the edge.

Who do you think influenced this?

I know.

I distinctly remember one conversation from Year 9. I had recently read the Kafka short story At Night, which goes as follows.

Deeply lost in the night.
Just as one sometimes lowers one’s head to reflect, thus to be utterly lost in the night.
All around people are asleep.
Its just play-acting, an innocent self- deception, that they sleep in houses, in safe beds, under a safe roof, stretched out or curled up on mattresses, in sheets, under blankets; in reality they have flocked together as they had once upon a time and again later in a deserted region, a camp in the open, a countless number of men, an army, a people, under a cold sky on cold earth, collapsed where once they had stood, forehead pressed on the arm, face to the ground, breathing quietly.
And you are watching, are one of the watchmen, you find the next one by brandishing a burning stick from the brushwood pile beside you.
Why are you watching?
Someone must watch, it is said.
Someone must be there.

At some point, I had brought this up in class. We had a brief discussion about this, but it obviously resonated for a long time. Perhaps because I felt a connection with a teacher on an intellectual level for the first time?

I mean, I can still remember it vividly, in Technicolour detail, can't I? Surely that says something?

I'm sure you've heard that I've fought depression a lot. Or even just guessed it through your own observations. (This story isn't about me, though.)

What I do remember is that you'd always be saying some ridiculous joke or comment in order to make me and everyone around you smile. It probably isn't anything to you, but it is to me.

I decided recently that I may like to become a teacher. (I'm not entirely sure.) People laugh at this visual, but whatever. What you probably don't know is that this one English teacher who had boundless enthusiasm for the students was what influenced me.

You're like one of us, and that's what makes me feel comfortable in writing this, in talking to you about this. It makes me want to help you out wherever I can. I feel there's some debt that I owe. And there needs to be repayment.

(is whiskey acceptable?)

I have an immense amount of respect for you, Scott. But I'm sure you know that by now. And when you see some play or movie from me in ten years time, you know that it's at least a little bit for you. I don't think comments or criticism from anyone else about The Last Rewind really meant anything. I felt most in tune, most at home with all of your ideas. I didn't take them all on board, of course not. But I could see myself coming up with them. I'm sure you've noticed that throughout the past year.

To wrap it up, thank you so much for everything. I owe you endlessly.
- Liam McCann
29/09/09

Heaven is yours.

Tunes in my head: Wading In The Velvet Sea by Phish
Atmosphere: Wading in the velvet sea.

Letters.

They're a contradiction in kind.

They are one of the most detached forms of communication possible, really.

There's no face to face communication, no verbal exchange.

And yet you can encapsulate such emotion within them.

You can be totally honest, in a way...

It's just interesting how we can be so detached and yet so intimate.

We can tell truths we wouldn't be able to say anywhere else.

Down to Memphis, small city...

Tunes in my head: Mind by Talking Heads
Atmosphere: Wet

It's amazing how characteristics can be portrayed as positive or negative in certain lights, I think.

Selflessness.

Or selfishness.

Or intensity.

Or passion.

Or intelligence.

Or stupidity.

Just a thought.

Perspective has really been fucking with me this year. Looking at people's viewpoints.

It's changed my outlook on life, slightly.

It's also made me doubt myself so highly.

Sometimes I can't even speak through it.

Which is awfully stifling.

Xylophone's hanging clear.

Tunes in my head: Mermaid Smiled by XTC
Atmosphere: Eh...okay?

Loneliness is such a painful thing.

Sometimes it actually physically hurts.

I can't breathe, my arms tingle.

For once, I don't feel it.

For once, the pain's been lifted, I guess.

Hopefully this won't be shortlived.

Chez louree.

Tunes in my head: Gumbo by Phish
Atmosphere: Lonely

Is it time to run?

The concept of running makes me angry. Even if sometimes it's the best option.

The fact that one would rather simply flee than stay and make an attempt.

Cowardice.

I suppose it's part of the human instinct.

To escape harm.

But isn't that rather selfish?

To escape harm even though another is in it.

Don't be surprised when a crack in the ice appears under your feet.

Tunes in my head: The Thin Ice by Pink Floyd
Atmosphere: Depressed...fuck

We can only really evade pain for a brief period.

Shall we continue to attempt to evade it?

Or shall we face it face on?

Each side has their positives and negatives, I suppose.

One must weigh up the positives and negatives.

And only then can the judgement be made.

--

The end of school scares me in a way.

We're about to break free from the conventions that have defined the previous six years.

We're about to go on our own individual paths. Most likely, we will never be the same one hundred and thirty of us again. If you gather us into a room in a year or even three months, I guarantee the dynamic would have changed.

People change so quickly.

All it takes is a sentence, a phrase, a word.

And a person is irreplaceably changed.

This can be a positive or a negative, depending on perspective.

It took one hundred and thirty three of us to build the bridge.

It took merely two to burn it down.

--

A person cannot build a bridge by themselves.

But they can destroy it by themselves.

You can feel good...good about hood.

Tunes in my head: The Curtain With by Phish
Atmosphere: Depressed

I'm a bit wrecked right now.

Kirrily/Tash's was quite good. Singstar, random balloon popping, incoherence...

Yet, there was still the thing about people. I found myself randomly crashing and becoming very depressed around nine o'clock. I feel this was due to the lack of connection between some of the people there, and the fact that some of the others I did know were not exactly the people who I feel comfortable around.

And so the facade went up.

Even when we were having some sort of intimate conversation, it eventually became too crowded and I felt that this really threw me emotionally.

(not to mention thinking fucking sucks.)

I revealed some things to certain people who I didn't particularly want to.

Not because they're neccesarily bad, it's just that certain things should be reserved for certain people.

Hypocrisy pisses me off, by the way.

How dare you expect one thing and then retract?

I am a facade in a lot of ways. Very few people see the true me. And even more rarely do they realise.

Am I an introvert or an extrovert? It still confuses me.

I'm leaving you a message,
I'm leaving you a trace,
I'm leaving thoughts for you
I hope that time will not erase.
And when the moment comes
To read the words that I engraved,
You'll find them on the walls of the cave,
Of the cave.

I know you heard the question
But you didn't make a sound,
And when it fell you caught my heart
Before it hit the ground.
But if you ever need the names
Of those you couldn't save,
You'll find them on the walls of the cave.
You'll find them on the walls of the cave.

Look at me and time stands still
A mountain here is now a hill.
Look away,
Look away,
The time goes past.
These rocks will fall away at last.
Look away.
Maybe you will see it
As you're passing by alone,
Below the moss forgotten
where some words that turned to stone.
It might have been an etching
On a marker of a grave,
Or maybe on the walls of the cave.

Listen to
The silent trees
But still your words float on the breeze
Look away
I see them all
Carved into the cavern wall

Perception.

Tunes in my head: Swept Away by Phish
Atmosphere: Rested

It's interesting to see what people's perceptions of you are.

Someone described me as a highly extroverted person yesterday. (No, I'm not saying who.)

See, they listed some things about me that seemingly make me an extrovert - eccentricity, love of the stage, weird sense of humour...

But then again, I look at myself and see more things that would label me as an introvert. I generally try to shy away from large social gatherings, I hate going on the stage (although admittedly I love coming off it, great feeling.) I often find myself without much to say in conversation recently, although when I do get on a sort of roll it becomes easier.

I even hide behind things, physical things. The glasses, the long hair, the beard. People see it as a chance to be different. I don't, I just want to hide. Prevent people from seeing me.

They say an introvert has a few close friends, and an extrovert has many.

This is possibly the biggest difference. I don't see myself as one with a massive friend circle. I only see myself as a person with a few close friends...

Massive social gatherings scare me to an extent. And I hide behind it by being the eccentric bastard I am. People assume that's just me being massively outgoing.

But such is life...we fear.

A few people have seen the softer side to me. The person who gets easily hurt, the person who softly talks about things at the early hours. The person who just sits and listens, who doesn't say much because they don't know the words to say.

Should I actively try to bring this side out more?

Time after time, Annalise...

Will the water tear me down?

Tunes in my head: First Tube by Trey Anastasio
Atmosphere: Eh, okay

Pain brings out the best in some, the worst in others.

But ideally should be avoided by all.

When pain is one that can be so easily avoided, how should one feel when it isn't?

Am I not allowed to feel anymore?

What an absurd request.

I tried.

I play the game, but the pieces are gone.

i stick with the fallen to the skin of the stone
and look around seeing i'm not alone
there was a soul that sang a sweet song
and for that moment i felt i belong
words can be muttered, words can be murmured
it doesn't give us a feeling of strange sense of firmer
touched by the hand of a damaged machine
it doesn't let up it's hands aren't clean

i lie with the fallen and look at the cloud
there's some things to do that aren't so allowed
even if told that you always feel
it's not like staying on an even keel
i tried so hard to just make the move
but when you break down it's not just the mood
i danced with volcanos on the lip and the edge
but then i fell and i broke off the ledge

Blown by a wish.

Tunes in my head: What You Want by My Bloody Valentine
Atmosphere: Cheerful

tell me about this life
and how to properly lead it
it's not so much desired
but then again they all do
soon comes the sand
that washes over shore
and then it's missing
all gone down

tell me about this day
it's just gone by fast
fleeting moment lapses
to there knows when
torture to slow
and then to breakdown
racing by quickly
no chance to breathe

There won't be time to stash the gumbo.

Tunes in my head: Gumbo by Phish
Atmosphere: Pissed off.

Promises are just designed to be broken, aren't they?

They aren't even things that are really that hard to keep.

We built the bridges. We tore them down.

Tunes in my head: Kohoutek by R.E.M.
Atmosphere: Eh...

Stipe's words always made me kind of stare in amazement. Full of imagery and evokative emotions.

And yet at the same time, deliberately oblique and confused.

What do you think?



Who will stand alone?

She carried ribbons, she wore them out
Courage built a bridge, jealous tore it down
At least it's something you've left behind
Like Kohoutek, you were gone

We sat in the garden, we stood on the porch
I won't deny myself, we never talked

She wore bangles, she wore bells
On her toes and she jumped like a fish
Like a flyin' friend, you were gone
Like Kohoutek, can't forget that

Fever built a bridge, reason tore it down
If I am one to follow, who will stand alone?

Maybe you're not the problem
Scissors, paper, stone
If you stand and holler, these prayers will talk

She carried ribbons, she wore them out
Michael built a bridge, Michael tore it down
At least it's something you've left behind
Like Kohoutek, you were gone

Michael built a bridge, Michael tore it down
If I stand and holler, will I stand alone?

It's a God awful small affair.

Tunes in my head: Life On Mars? by David Bowie
Atmosphere: Confused.

Oooh, Zooey Deschanel.

She's purty, she's cute.

And I wub her so much.

I'm going to see (500) Days of Summer either tonight or tomorrow.

Just to stare at her for a couple of hours.

and remove myself from the torture of thinking

Central rain.

I'm sorry.

When I feel one is slipping, I grasp for it.

And yet they slip further.

And so I panic.

I'm not quite myself right now.

The divorce is really fucking with my head.

The HSC is really fucking with my head.

My own personal life, my friendships, are really fucking with my head.

One of those will be gone soon enough.

The second in just two months.

When will the third resolve itself?

I don't know.

Hopefully soon.

People probably have noticed that if you just sit down and talk to me, I generally feel okay.

Last night I had a massive anxiety attack and a massive panic attack.

And so I needed help.

Unfortunately, time was not correct.

Still, humans require help in bizarre situations at strange times.

It's all gone before too long.

Tunes in my head: Kohoutek by R.E.M.
Atmosphere: Depressed. Insomnia.

I haven't smiled properly in weeks.

I haven't slept properly in weeks.

I don't sleep, I dream.

I have all of these pain filled dreams.

Physically and psychologically.

I'm finding it hard to get the strength to rise from bed every morning.

There's no end goal, no achievement.

No incentive.

Not anymore.

I'm finding joy to be a hard thing to find right now.

Maybe that's the way it's meant to be.

Happiness is the road...but it's so long right now.

It's a long path to traverse.

So it seems.

Will it become easier as I step further?

Or will it become harder as it seems to have been so far?

I'm falling further and further...the abyss is a hard place to land.

I tried to bush back to the shack.

Tunes in my head: Andelman's Yard by Mike Gordon
Atmosphere: Scared

Just had a bit of a crazy dream.

People walking mechanically and emotionlessly into the path of a moving train, aware of their fate but not fearing it.

Any idea what it could mean?

Pack mentality.

Tunes in my head: Joy by Phish
Atmosphere: Depressed...but a bit better.

It's interesting how the pack mentality works.

How we think as a group.

How even our moods can be affected by this.

Is it because we conform, or just because we're lazy and it's easier?

I'm sorry.

Tunes in my head: Run Like An Antelope by Phish
Atmosphere: Snapped.

I'm sorry.

I need your support.

Did I go the wrong way about it? Maybe so.

Maybe not.

I don't know. The point is that you make me feel like I can do anything. And without you having my back, I'm disintegrating.

But okay. All I want is to have you back as a friend. If it takes time...I'll try. I'll try so fucking hard. That's all.

I snapped at school today.

Broke a lightswitch. Punched a brick wall.

It all came to a head, and these two blonde bitches decided it'd be fun to push their luck.

I punched in a wall. I screamed.

The scary thing is that I don't feel like I got ANYTHING out.

All of these emotions, all of this tension, all of this pain. All still there. Nothing's been resolved inside me as a part of this. I'm crying on a daily basis because I'm holding all of this pain.

I can't fucking let it go.

My parents breaking up, the whole drug abuse thing, dislocation and detachment, everything is just adding to the pain. I can't get a fucking break, it seems. I can't even get a chance to catch my breath. And it's suffocating.

I can't even hold myself together for a day. For a minute. For a second. Every little step leads to a fall.

I need help.

I need to escape this pain.

It's getting worse. Constantly worse.

Please.

Under a blood red sky...

Tunes in my head: Good Times Bad Times by Phish
Atmosphere: Creeped out.

The sky is an orangey red here this morning.

Is this an omen?

If so, what for?

I wonder why it is the way it is...not being a geographical expert.

Perhaps we're all gonna fuckin die? :P

Nah, not likely.

It's a real sense of beauty, though. I haven't had it for months, really.

If the world ended right now...I'd be content.

I'd tell the people who I loved that I did, and that'd be it.

I mean, I can't exactly stop it, can I?

A notice.

Tunes in my head: Kiss of Life by Peter Gabriel
Atmosphere: Whirring.

Okay, listen up.

You all know the situation with my parents. My mum is a drug addicted bitch, my dad is starting divorce proceedings as soon as possible. (tomorrow, hopefully.)

As a result, I'm going to be in a bit of a state of influx for the next few months. Prepare for insane mood swings, prepare for me actually needing you a lot, prepare to me possibly crashing at your places, prepare for me to generally be in a really rough state.

I need all of your help. To get through this.

With it, I know I can.

Without it, I don't know.

Are you with me?

You're just a sledgehammer.

Tunes in my head: Layla by Derek and the Dominoes
Atmosphere: Hurt

It hits me like a hammer.

Hits me like a sledgehammer.

The pain.

So sudden in it's advance.

And so long lasting in it's effect.

Make it stop.

Please.

Falling off the tightrope.

Tunes in my head: Esther by Phish
Atmosphere: Depressed.

Are you even trying?

Can't you see what this is doing to me?

Its's all a double standard. It's all saying something to me and doing something with someone else.

And it's fucking killing me, can't you see?

I am constantly in tears. Constantly dying.

And yet you seem to be content to kick me further down.

I give you everything. You can never deny that.

And yet it never gets accepted.

I gave you everything I could. I gave emotional intimacy. You know why it's such a rare thing for me to give that. You know why I don't give myself often.

You're going down the same path yourself.

You have something. We have such an emotional connection. And yet you continue to deny it, you continue to push me away.

You're scared. You're scared of losing people you care about. And you don't know how to deal with it. So you push me farther and farther away. Because you know how close we were. How close we are.

You need to stop pushing.

Because eventually you will push everything away.

At this rate, I won't even make it to November. I'm dying so fast.

You know for a fact I'd give anything to have you back, to have you rebuild me.

You know the happiest days of my recent life.

You know why they were happy.

And you choose to slowly depart from there?

You're so confused...but you know you're running down the wrong path.

We can all see it.

I'M FUCKING DYING. THERE IS NO IFS OR BUTS ABOUT IT. DO SOMETHING. I CAN'T HANG ON FOR MUCH LONGER. PLEASE, I BEG YOU.

What would you do if I were gone?

I bet you wouldn't even be upset.

Because I'm not the shiny new thing anymore.

And dead.

The words resound and echo through.

Tunes in my head: Round Room by Phish
Atmosphere: Miserable.

Promises are everything to me.

Do you choose not to make it because you understand that breaking them kills me?

Or do you choose not to make it because you feel detached, disconnected?

Either way, I hope you know it utterly kills me.

You know how I get worked up on promises.

And yet you continue to hurt, to cause pain.

Still, I can understand where you're coming from.

And I appreciate it.

Just know that no matter which solution is taken, they all cause pain.

Freedom is a movement, a living reaction.

Tunes in my head: The Enemy Within by Rush
Atmosphere: I'm okay.

Fear is such a contradiction.

On one hand, it propells us to great heights. Surely people fear when they do something like jump off a bridge or start a revolution.

And the fear powers them.

And yet fear also drives us away.

It's an enemy within us. It kills us slowly.

We fear when we attempt to make a change.

We fear the consequences of this change.

Can we try to utilise this fear to create adrenaline?

Maybe.

To die by my side, oh isn't it a pleasant way to die?

Tunes in my head: There Is A Light That Never Goes Out by The Smiths
Atmosphere: Okay

Take me out tonight
Where theres music and theres people
And theyre young and alive
Driving in your car
I never never want to go home
Because I havent got one
Anymore

Take me out tonight
Because I want to see people and i
Want to see life
Driving in your car
Oh, please dont drop me home
Because its not my home, its their
Home, and Im welcome no more

And if a double-decker bus
Crashes into us
To die by your side
Is such a heavenly way to die
And if a ten-ton truck
Kills the both of us
To die by your side
Well, the pleasure - the privilege is mine

Take me out tonight
Take me anywhere, I dont care
I dont care, I dont care
And in the darkened underpass
I thought oh god, my chance has come at last
(but then a strange fear gripped me and i
Just couldnt ask)

Take me out tonight
Oh, take me anywhere, I dont care
I dont care, I dont care
Driving in your car
I never never want to go home
Because I havent got one, da ...
Oh, I havent got one

And if a double-decker bus
Crashes into us
To die by your side
Is such a heavenly way to die
And if a ten-ton truck
Kills the both of us
To die by your side
Well, the pleasure - the privilege is mine

Such a romantic fantasy, isn't it?

To die beside your beloved.

But how often do we even remain with them to die with?

I'm sure it's not common. I'm sure that this notion is at best extremely rare.

But what do you know.

Self doubt is a beautiful thing.

It manages to destroy every single movement in a person's body.

All because we have some fear instilled into us.

She took me outta work that day.

Tunes in my head: Nellie Cane by Phish
Atmosphere: Depressed

You know, writing isn't even my preferred method of release, of coping.

It's just the only one where I feel I can actually get listened to.

It's the only one where I don't get attacked for actually having emotions, the only one where I don't get shot down for feeling.

When I actually say "I feel this, I feel that" and be honest, people say I shouldn't be feeling it. People insult me, cut me down for it.

So I write. And it's not my preferred way of communication.

Even when I write to someone, it often happens that they don't realise.

But writing's my only outlet. The only place where I can truly be honest, where I can talk.

It's a sad state of affairs.

I feel so detached. So alone. So isolated.

I don't know if I can continue taking it from all sides anymore.

So much pain over such a long time.

I need a respite.

Please. Give it to me.

I won't shiver in the cold.

Tunes in my head: Collapse The Light Into Earth by Porcupine Tree
Atmosphere: Lonely. Miserable. I FUCKING MISS YOU.

I won't shiver in the cold
I won't let the shadows take their toll
I won't cover my head in the dark
And I won't forget you when we part
Collapse the light into earth

I won't heal given time
I won't try to change your mind
I won't feel better in the cold light of day
But I wouldn't stop you if you wanted to stay
Collapse the light into earth



There's nothing more to it. Really.

And you've just something to make me miss you more. Fantastic.

The love is replaced by fear.

Tunes in my head: True Faith by New Order
Atmosphere: Miserable

I will never stop. I will fight.

There is nothing you can do to stop me.

You may think you can control how you feel.

You know that's not correct.

Feelings are things that throw us around.

But they are also things that give us hope.

Vague little things...

Three little birds, chirping away.

I will never die.

And I will always.

There will never be any doubt about that.

unruly boys, unruly girls

Tunes in my head: The Collins Missile by Leo Kottke and Mike Gordon
Atmosphere: Helping

i'd like to be some sort of idealistic figure
but the day comes and a crack is formed
i'd like to tell the world, the leader
that to pretend is farce and to satire is true

in the middle of the street the voices mutter
in their own distinguishable tones
they hear me sleep they see me dream
and they enviously mumble degrading words

i'd like to be some positive point
but the final stand has been made
if the people continue to murmur
i swear, i really will turn to murder

i keep myself in mind when voices run through
their footsteps echo ten thousand times
and as they tell me to simply hang around
the water stagnates and slowly expires

what she said

Tunes in my head: Tarkus by Jordan Rudess
Atmosphere: Mediocre

what she said were warming words
until they dry and break to ice
lullaby echoes jumper cable sparks
facades that appear so pure
games she played hide in grass
"i smoke because i hope
for boys to come, for early death
fifteen a stick and she calls again"

what she said were sickly sweet
consumable dependable always broken
"my only desire is to die"
and she'd smile and fall some more
it breaks the bone
and away with a smile on her face
it's not worth much everyone gets
watered down bootlegged whiskey shots

what she said were words of trust
how soon is now when it's so far away
"my one desire is under threat"
when she smiled and cheeks went rosy red
and so she broke and fell so far
and got picked up by the faithless
it's rather ignoble and it's pure at once
expect in her own perception, her own closed circles

defusing of the bomb

Tunes in my head: Memories Fade by Tears For Fears
Atmosphere: Mediocre.

i sit inside, in smoke, in confuse
watching the wake of the collins missile
i don't go into try and defuse
this explosive situation this demented play
opened up my box to expose the ruse
and got blinded by the two suns' blaze
there was no demented humour, no sick amuse
just pipers playing flutes and songs

i'm not endlessly following, i have no pacing clone
just sitting in this box, just middle of the pack
i can't come to terms with the concept of alone
there's a feeling that i'm surrounded by windows
i'm submerged and rained over, i'm beaten by the snow
and white covers brown, caves in the walls
there's a cry from miles, it's breaking through the foam
but it doesn't really call, it's never there at all

i can't break free from the chains of inaction
it's never a natural impulse to make a move
there's this sick movement a break into faction
and still no move to tear the fortress
i can't gain movement, useless is traction
the safe move becomes perpetual suicide
the solemn breaking of a conception immaculate
and so the floors tumble like paper

Stagnate.

Tunes in my head: Visions of Angels by Genesis
Atmosphere: Fuck life

There comes a time when change is needed.

There comes a time when a person needs to be flung off the cliff and told to fly.

Are we ready to run like lemmings yet?

Maybe so, maybe not.

Do we have much of a choice?

Of course not. Can you not see what happens to those who shy away from the cliff?

They stagnate.

And die.

My friends, we are about to run.

Is anyone about to shy away at this crucial moment?

Well, I don't care about anyone except myself...

Tunes in my head: Self by Phish and The Dude of Life
Atmosphere: Depressed.

can you save me from the water rushing over?
will the foam be broken by an embrace?
or will there be no lifebuoy thrown?
no measure to save the human race?

I only stare this way...

Tunes in my head: Does Everyone Stare by The Police
Atmosphere: Meh...

Does everyone stare the way I do, Zooey?
I don't know why, but my shots will always miss.

Blue crystals of snow.

Tunes in my head: Seven Below by Phish
Atmosphere: Depressed

i try to withdraw within myself to hide from all the pain.
what i slowly realise is that i become gently insane.

Hey, guys.

Am I?

You tell me. I can't exactly see from the inside.

You're just staring at the walls...

Tunes in my head: Brian and Robert by Trey Anastasio
Atmosphere: Mediocre

I can't even rhyme. Begin the begin.

Companionship is a strange ideal in human life, isn't it?

We're always looking for some to share this ride with. Always looking for a person to sit beside you, to smile, to share.

It's strange, in a way, to see so many others around us become companions.

And then to still be alone on this ride is a much more depressing ideal, isn't it.

It's a sad feeling. A kind of ostracism. To be sitting alone on the bus when everyone else has someone beside them to share the journey with.

But what can you do about it?

Continue searching, or give up?

Continue looking for that person to share the smile, to share the inside joke?

Or give up on this apparently futile quest.

My glance is always darting...when I stroll the avenue...

Tunes in my head: Silent In The Morning by Phish
Atmosphere: Smile

Thank you.

Thank you for realising where I come from and for actually showing you do care.

Things aren't perfect yet. But with time.

It means a lot.

Please keep on this path.

Surely you can see the effect. I've really missed being happy.

I know I can be hard to deal with at times. But you can see the benefits of that one flaw?

If only you could like Phish...

Songs are like tattoos.

Tunes in my head: Blue by Joni Mitchell
Atmosphere: Creative

Idea for crime writing - cliche stage play a la Hound
Murder weapon gets changed for an actual weapon
Investigation from there

We gotta get on the road...

Tunes in my head: The Landlady > Destiny Unbound by Phish
Atmosphere: Sore

Well, there goes the final performance of music in front of a school audience today. It went okay, I suppose.

Why do I suddenly get massive amounts of stage fright right before a performance? It's a strange feeling...

And irrational, really.

But at the same time, rational.

We perform to impress.

The foam keeps getting thicker.

Tunes in my head: Stand by R.E.M.
Atmosphere: Sick to my fucking stomach

You sacrifice something you wanted so much because you can't stand to be wrong? Because you can't admit "Hey, yeah, I'm not in the right in this situation, I might actually have to do something to change it."

If you can't tell, I really don't want to let this go. But with the way you're acting, with the way you're fucking treating me, do I have much choice?

It was all so very hollow. All of the "you're the best friend ever." "I love you best friend, don't ever leave." Whatever happened to "I'd miss being as close to you"? Was the "I'll always be me, and I'll always be here for you?" just a lie?

There's never another mention of "kick the brat off." No more inside jokes, no more nicknames, no more fun. And I so desperately want there to be. But if you're willing to just give it up for some stupid fucking reason, then what was it really worth?

Are you still jealous of Suzy? Because she gets Page?

You've destroyed me. Utterly.

Apples and icecream, you scream, I SCREAM.

Tunes in my head: After The Gold Rush by Michael Hedges
Atmosphere: Productive...

It's amazing how quick one can work when the pressure is on.

Music HSC tomorrow...

Trying to avoid distractions certainly helps...

(but can you...really?)

This might hurt just a little bit...

Tunes in my head: NO2 by Phish
Atmosphere: Heavy

Little Suzy Greenberg, with her head caved in.
Soon to let me drown beneath the undertow.
Aughta put that woman in a looney bin,
Cause you know I'd really like to be a part of her show.

Suzy is an artist - she paints quite a lot.
An artist she may be, but a genius she is not.
She says she wants to be a sociologist,
But she better first get checked by a neurologist.

Suzy's 'bout as faithful as a slot machine.
Pays off once in a while, then she robs you clean.
She's always afraid that she's not sure what she's worth.
She's out of her mind, and she's not of this Earth.

Woman walks the streets like she's queen of the town.
Doesn't talk very much, she's very profound,
Little Suzy Greenberg's always playing a game.
Since the day we first met, she's probably forgot my name...

No blog today, guys.

Where do the hours go?

Tunes in my head: Decades by Joy Division
Atmosphere: Depressed. WHY THE FUCK CAN'T YOU READ BETWEEN THE LINES AND REALISE IT IS YOU WHO IS CAUSING ALL OF THIS PAIN? WHY THE FUCK CAN'T YOU REALISE THAT YOUR TREATMENT OF ME IS WHAT CAUSES THIS. IF YOU CARED THEN THIS COULD ALL BE STOPPED. IF YOU CARED YOU COULD REMOVE THE PAIN. BUT DO YOU? OF COURSE NOT.

the hour is late the eyes are darting
connection is break lingering parting
the room is not dark the hours are black
clocks have no part except to go back

there's no use to this no escape
no path to miss the repeating tape
when the moment arrives there's still chance
dreams of sleep deprive still advance

Tingled with an angel's kiss.

Tunes in my head: What You Want by My Bloody Valentine
Atmosphere: Sniffly

nothing

just nothing

no reproach, no approach

just distance and nothing

All of these dreams are yours to conceal.

Tunes in my head: All Of These Dreams by Phish
Atmosphere: Trying to regain breath.

I should totally become a pizza boy...and Kristy owes me a tenner.

Tonight was a good night. Fucked up movies, fucked up people, fucked up place. (YEAH GO BLACKTOWN)

And yet, despite this, or even because of it, it was an amazing night. Because of the general weirdness of the place, it was just a good night.

And yet the void is still there.

YOU BE FOURTY!

Tunes in my head: David Bowie by Phish
Atmosphere: Happy...progressing...

I had a conversation that was rather intriguing with someone today. And it made me realise that hey, I'm not as strong as I think...

But it also made me quite happy...I don't know. An outsiders perspective is one to be cherished.

In friends, I cherish the sorts of people who stick by me through thick and thin. There was one friendship that this outsider viewed, and she noted how much I loved and cherished it. And it's true, I do cherish these sorts of friendships.

Whereas this other type of insecurity was something that was more "glitzy, of the moment", really. They take and take and take and never give back. Whenever they need you, they're there, but whenever they don't, they run. They can't, because it involves giving an effort that they don't want to give.

Insecurity in a selfless way, insecurity in a selfish way.

I haven't moved all the way yet. But I'm making distance, fast. If you wish to keep me within range, better start running towards me. Better start trying to catch me before I slide away.

Shout my name beneath the dirt...

Tunes in my head: The Inlaw Josie Wales by Phish
Atmosphere: Okay...

Shout your name into the wind
Ill wiggle in the earth and dew
Shout your name into the wind
And somtimes I will think of you
Shout your name into the wind
And if you ever think of me
Kneel down and kiss the earth
And show me what this thought is worth
Ill never hear your voice again

sometimes i will think of you
sometimes i will think of you
always in the good
sometimes i will think of you
sometimes i will think of you
and always smiling happy
hiding all the pain
sometimes i will think of you

Nine yards down his back.

Tunes in my head: 9-9 by R.E.M.
Atmosphere: WHY THE FUCK CAN'T YOU REALISE THAT YOU'RE FUCKING KILLING ME?

Conversation fear.

I accquainted myself with my own feelings.

Tunes in my head: Fragile Dreams by Anathema
Atmosphere: Okay

Well, thankyou to the people who actually offered to help. It is honestly appreciated.

But the only people who can help are those caught in the whirlwind. And only two of them are actually making an effort to help, and they're unfortunately not directly involved...

--

Am I really so unique?

Are any of us? Really?

I had a very long discussion with someone today about emotions, feelings, boys, et cetera. What I noticed through this discussion was how similar we are in many ways.

Just the way we are, how fucked up we are, how we react to certain situations, and so forth.

And despite this similiarity, I'm still considered someone who's highly unique.

The contradictory nature of human society.

Even through my apparent eccentricity, I see so much of it in other people.

Perhaps we become unique through our own personal combinations of other people's traits.

I mean, if we really didn't have any outside influence on our personalities, would we be able to communicate? Really?

Think about it...

Horns and pebbles.

Tunes in my head: New Marimba by Robert Fripp and Andy Summers
Atmosphere: Meh

the shards are ice, the moon is full.

if i'm a cacoon, fill me up.

it's strange how some people gain everyone's attention, even when it's a rather ineffectual thing.

and others don't get anybody's attention when they really need it.

it's really strange.

but that's human nature for you.

Provokation.

Tunes in my head: Bryter Layter by Nick Drake
Atmosphere: Accomplished...ish...

We all make some lasting contribution to society in life.

Even if we don't notice it, really.

We can always contribute something more to the melting pot.

Whether it's the biggest thing or the smallest thing.

There is always something more a person can bring to the table.

Goodnight.

I was made to love magic...

Tunes in my head: Northern Sky by Nick Drake
Atmosphere: Melancholic...I suppose...

It makes me sad to see people like this.

please give me second grace

I dunno, everyone just seems to have had a crappy day today.

Me too.

would you love me for my head?
would you love me until I'm dead?

I hope one day somebody will.

The sink.

Tunes in my head: Echoes by Pink Floyd
Atmosphere: Nihilistic.

torn to shreds

i'm ideallic in my own construction
perfect in so many ways
i look into the windshield at it
it's what all the voices scream
and when my failings turn out to be
my own deepest fears
it's not as if i'm naked out
just destroyed, detach

i'm not so sure why it's
garden yellow pavement cracked
never happened in fourty six streets
that's what the words whisper
fingernail imbedded inside solidity
and crimson trickles
kimono style pulling back pseudo
emotional years bursting tides

the past flickers in my eyes
and it's fleetingly
beautifully agonisingly joyfully nihil
the beauty is the beast that wounds
river ocean undertow breaks
collapse the light
what will break is only sticks
will any of this turn my way

The float.

Tunes in my head: Behold The Temple Of Light by Pink Floyd
Atmosphere: Depressed

beyond range

you say you have no chance of surviving the war
but how is that possible from so far away
it's not like you're in life's beauty pageant
but still there's the threat of distortion fear
you say you have no choice, you have to run
but what pride is left but some tainted proud
the signal of human detachment is flown
but nobody sees it nobody dreams it

it's like the life of repeat is wrong
and your shelf life has just run through
you're attracted by the peeling away of feeling
and so you stare at the window for seconds
tv screen blaring back at you
you're sucked dry you have none to give
some sharp eyed soldier begs to differ
the thundercrash leads to some strange humdrum

when absolute zero hits you have no wall no warning
alone out in the snow beneath four suns
screaming and begging looked on in pity
but no-one can pull the hand that bites
the bravery of release of being out of range
is one that is ultimately compromised by need
feeding off the pain and decimated by care
the awful feeling comes and rings are thrown

The read on the speedometre said...

Tunes in my head: Find the River by R.E.M.
Atmosphere: Aware...

I've been thinking a lot about mortality recently...

When I die, I don't want to be mourned over for too long. Maybe a brief time...

I don't believe we really die permanently. We just fall into a river to float downstream...

And it's just for the rest of us to carry on the path of life...

all of this is going your way

Oh, to be prince caspian...

Tunes in my head: Prince Caspian by Phish
Atmosphere: Depressed, worried.

I don't know what I'd do if I lost you. If I lost any of you.

Please don't go too far?

We run at cliffs, as people. We run full bore towards the cliffsides.

And we really rely on people to catch us and drive us back from the edge.

Once you caught me before I fell down the precipice.

Am I allowed to return the favour when you need me to?

It's the big brother instinct. Always protecting from harm.

This is the song directed at everyone and no-one.

I come from the land of doom.

Tunes in my head: Cracklin' Rosie by Phish
Atmosphere: Sore, worried

uncle rift part two

he was on his way to see the king
and didn't see the man sinking
under the weight of his armour
it was such a worthless sign of valour
enlightened by the sight of the grail
uncle rift was not one to have failed
to grabble and to spangle the everlasting splendour
of blood spilled from others of machines vendor

he raised his sword in ways magnificently outlined
by sunlight and rocks, shaped like feline
and cut through the wilderness' jungle
like a mushroom and it's fungle

Listen, laugh, love.

Tunes in my head: The Gates of Delirium by Yes
Atmosphere: Sharing

And there's a comet crashing into Jupiter!

Tunes in my head: Harpua -> 2001 -> Harpua by Phish
Atmosphere: In tears...good tears...

Today I started to read about the good deeds of others.

It makes all the problems of mine seem so insignificant.

It also restored my faith in the human race.

You no longer can get me down.

www.givesmehope.com

Love will tear us apart.

Tunes in my head: Regatta de Blanc by The Police
Atmosphere: Depressed. Lonely.

"Are you happy?"

"Yes, I am."

"Are you happy with leaving me to sink?"

"Yes."

"How does it make you feel?"

"Well, I feel okay."

"Are you even taking into account how you might be hurting me and others?"

"Not particularly."

"You shattered me."

"I know."

"Are you going to glue me back together?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"You're not important to me, anymore, Page."

"..."

"Not at all."

"I hope you know what you've done to me."

"No, I don't."

"I always said that I care about you more than words express. I do."

"Prove it."

"Can't you see the effect you're having on me?"

"I can. Should I care?"

"A person like you should. Instead, you're just driving me far away. Instead, you're hurting me."

"Okay."

"Do you even care that I'm miserable?"

"Yes, of course. You can always come to me."

"Then how come every time I do come to you, you respond with anger or frustration and it eventually ends with us angry at each other?"

"It just does."

"Why aren't you working at keeping us as close as we are? It's obviously a massively intimate relationship, judging from other people's experiences. We're much closer than you think, Christabel."

"Are we?"

"Well, you can't see how you've alienated nearly everyone around you? Me and Sage are all you've got left. I sat here and defended you against all comers, and this is how you're repaying me. Sage did the same, and you're doing it to her, as well. You're doing it to the two people who unconditionally care about you, rather than to those who don't. You're digging yourself deeper, and the hole will eventually become too deep for even me to pull you out of, Bel."

This place is death with walls.

Tunes in my head: Body Electric by The Sisters Of Mercy
Atmosphere: Reminiscient, dark.

You betray me and don't even notice.

It's not a fantastic feeling, being on the other side of the stage. But I still do it because I'm so proud of you. Because I want to support you, because I want to be there for you.

But when I take my little side role, are you in the audience?

Of course not. You never are.

You never sit entranced, out of the spotlight for one moment.

And there's not even no compliment when you're not there. There's no "wow, you're amazing at that."

Just nothing.

And that really wears somebody down. It really destroys someone to not have that.

And as a result, the mask is lowered. The darkness takes over.

Surely you can sit in the audience for one night while I stand in the gaze of the spotlight arc.

Surely you can put yourself aside for once.

I did. For such a long time. I still do.

But it's not fair if it doesn't go both ways.

Know what hurts even more? If you're prevented from coming because of something else.

If you book this performance three months in advance, and the night before you decide instead to go and get a cup of coffee with someone else.

The feeling of dejection.

The failing of dejection.

He takes his pills but he never takes his medicine.

Tunes in my head: Blake Says by Amanda Palmer
Atmosphere: Bipolar

he tells me that he's fine
and the sad thing is he's right
and when it's two o'clock
it feels like eight

he tells me that he's not fine
and the sad thing is he's right
when it's eight o'clock
it feels like two

we suffer mornings most of all
we suffer evenings most of all

--

it's such a fine distinction only eleven have ever had
no surprise that a comatose state began
shine bright lights down and watch blinkering beacons
dart from side to side from place to placeless place

completely distanced through any simple reason
and now just out of space out of mind
it's not like glue if it can be torn
like some paper airplane like some mache tiger

I'll pick you up, at eight as usual.

Tunes in my head: Horn by Phish
Atmosphere: Depressed.

I don't know anymore.

Just feeling rather dejected with everything.

Not even going to make the effort to intellectualise raw emotion.

Not now.

You were the song that my soul understood.

Tunes in my head: Joy by Phish
Atmosphere: Reasonably upbeat.

we want you to be happy
don't live inside the gloom
we want you to be happy
come step outside your room
we want you to be happy
because this is your song too

Please?

--

Confrontation is a strange thing, really.

Some strange people thrive off it, y'know? They like the feeling of anger and pain coursing through them.

And yet some people shy away from it. Some people refuse to confront due to these very emotions.

How strange.

Is confrontation a good thing? In some cases, yes.

One cannot have an issue lie on the undercurrent, can they?

It just means the issue simmers and eventually bleeds out.

A confrontation is needed on occasion. To let the excess out.

You have to be trusted by the people that you lie to.

Tunes in my head: Countdown by Rush
Atmosphere: Disillusioned

Thanks for making me disillusioned with that profession. Snide comments are just one thing drive me insane.

So now to spiral aimlessly, yay.

(why the fuck won't you let me just be happy?)

Wading. Forever wading.

Tunes in my head: Wading In The Velvet Sea by Phish
Atmosphere: Posting short stories.

The tides of the Giant's Causeway smashed their selves against the rock for several hundreds of years. The precipice had become the main destination for those who wished to leave Ireland. A renowned lover's leap, upon where I stood.

For what seems like four score years, I stood upon the ice's edge. Balancing along the razor wire of the rocks, I hold a locket encased in burning gold and sparkling diamonds.

Inside was a picture of a woman, a lady of twenty of seven, the most amazing beauty beaming from her eyes, the sparking of her teeth hitting the glass whom they are contained.

The beat rain's bullets start to hit the jagged rocks below, as I conjure the mental image of replicating their every move. Imagining how I might contort upon the descent. Imagining what may happen to the treasure in my hand.

The thought frightens me, scares me, haunts me. In sequences, the fate of the locket continues to haunt me, as time passes on, like a man wading in a velvet sea, a lighthouse keeper looking out to sea; inconquerable and undeniably progressing.

Clutching the cold metal of the locket, my mind wanders in the desert of my memory, eventually coming to the oasis of the origins of the woman inside. A lady named Christabel, twenty and seven, someone who I knew for what seemed like seventeen seconds.

Thinking about this elegant goddess, tears ran down the visage in my mind. Even though the memory seemed very clear, a haze of emotions, mangled and torn, confused in the spotlight, twisting my dreams.

A winter day in the middle of July; the most unusual of occurences. Walking through the streets, a hint of Easter festivity confused me. Until I saw Christabel.

Her eyes a dark brown contrasting against the dull grey tones of ash in the air. Her hair and lips a similar crimson, the bullseye of the magnificent target. Her unsmiling mouth trembling with all of the despair, the doubts even here on the north of the Irish Sea.

Looking into the wallet, I attempt to recollect the tale's that she recounted to me in her vague Prussian accent, the likes of which I'd never heard. A piece of wood floated across the sea below the Causeway as I gradually become lost in the locket's reminiscent grasp.

"I took a moment from my day, and wrapped it up in things you say, mailed it off to your address, it'll get there pretty soon I guess" a voice whispered in my ear. Turning my head around, I met her eyes with a look of elation. The waves became white noise with the dim murmurings of the city. The voices became one giant crowd in the wooden jungle. Eyes transfixed on the lady, she started to scurry away, one hand locked on her hat, the other on her dress. I saw her walk on and on, out of my line of vision, out of my mind.

Blinking, I returned to the rocky outcrop, the water and red light from the sky combined to make a beautiful tableaux of picturesque landscapes. The realisation that Christabel had walked into the sea hit me like a Crimean bayonet plunged deep into my chest.

The hands began to sweat, the legs began to tremble. The subterranean rocks began to tremble as a psychological earthquake tore my psyche apart. Locked in silent monologues, in silent screams, the sea began to look more like home than any countryside cottage.

Ships sailed in the waters long ago. The rocks of the Causeway often caused major structural damage, and the seas became crimson with red dye. The Rubicon of the British Isles was on these shores between the Irish and the Sassenachs, and many a person had transversed the sea on their final voyage.

I looked down into my head, at the locket which glistened with sweat and silver. Inside, the glass had remained intact where it should have been penetrated; the picture of the young woman had gone. The purpose of the lover's leap had been furfilled, taking romantics away from us.

The waiting room.

Tunes in my head: What's the Use by Phish
Atmosphere: Reminiscent

In the waiting room, Suzy slowly breathed comforting baskets of air. Attempting to regain her composure, she took a quick glance across the tiled hallway to the apparent freakshow that had assembled in the chairs leaning against the unforgiving glance of the brick wall.

People who were much better off than her. Mangled, impaired, emasculated men at the mercy of some little chemical coursing it's way through their glacial veins. People crying tears of sorrow at their loss at the card game that mattered most. Yet Suzy felt herself to be of stronger genetic material.

She was going into hospital, but not for some routine open heart surgery, like these hypochondriac patients. No, she was going in for the excruciating pain of being put under the horror and nightmare of N02, where the savages could then have their way. The demons could take over. And for once, she felt empathy for the other ones. Their sorrow. Their pain.

She sits in silence, screaming without raising her voice. Running without moving, fighting without biting, crying but still remaining static. Thinking about where she might be now, if she weren't underneath this mask. The dark, confining, restrictive mask.

Suzy squirmed under the sheet, as her friends in the suits stood over her, peering like a pack of blood crazed hyenas in an abattoir. Bloodlust filling their crazed eyes like a river of red rain flowing into a sea of salty tears.

Six-four. Nine-nine. Twenty-one. Routine numbers? Maybe so, but not for Suzy. She knew what they were. The keys to her soul, the password to pick her locks. Even while unconscious, it was instinct. She could still feel the pain of a thousand scythes shaking through her body. The supernatural raven tearing various body parts from the squirming coil that was her unconscious body. Even while unaware, Suzy could still feel the torment.

And yet it went on and on. Like a tweezer tearing pieces of flesh. The hacksaw searing through the mound of bone. And yet these hyenas did not feel sympathy for their poor victim. They say the only thing to fear is fearlessness. It makes for a harder kill, they tend to refuse to accept their fate. The fearless would go down eventually, it was their fate. But refusing to have a little death before the saliva starts to mix with blood makes it so much more painful and so much more messy. This was a problem for the hyenas. They enjoyed their jobs, and they were meant to create works of art.

Suzy was an easy victim, though. They smelt her fear and made it easier for her to accept her fate. And now that she was squirming but not screaming, they knew the time was short. They had to make the final adjustments.

Fourty four, nine. Suzy started to awaken from her dream state. Or did she? Vision was blurred, hearing distorted, smell divided.

The hyenas began to disengage their weapons as Suzy started her ascent into consciousness. The sight of her swallowing her own blood was scary enough. Seeing the blades covered in them would have led to her screaming without fear, running like a monster (if she had the energy) and dying another little death. So they decided to deposit her to the side of the building. It was away from the hyena's den. Their next kill would surface soon enough. Perhaps it would only take a few minutes. Perhaps it would be a great thrill. Maybe even the sweetest chill.

Suzy remained in her little chair. Awakening from her daze, hallucinogetic music began to murmur from the walls. A throbbing pain pounded like an African drum ensemble. Her vision allowed her to see things in a haze of yesterday's rain. But she realise one thing in this state. With her mouth in four piece, her eyes rolled in the back of her head, and her body lying like a three day old carcass on the chair, she was no different from the other corpses in this tiled room. She was merely a member of the distorted freakshow.

Nothing is defencing you.

Tunes in my head: Quadrophonic Toppling by Phish
Atmosphere: Green on red.

Love is the sight of two pairs of eyes in the mirror.

Love is the taste of a voice.

Love is the bond that feeds and clothes.

Love is the sight of messy beauty.

Love is the smirk as one climbs a pair of stairs, the other close behind.

Love is the little thing in the friendship.

Love is the words that don't make sense.

Love is the slow advancing weapon.

Love is the smile and the hug.

Love is the considerate question, the comforting comment.

Love is the tearful embrace.

Love is the obsessions that don't match.

Love is the wanted, the needed.

Love is the thoughtfulness.

Requiem.

Tunes in my head: Spare Change by Michael Hedges
Atmosphere: Down

Part of me will always love you.

Part of you will always love me.

That's all I'm sure of.

I can never say no to anyone but you.

Tunes in my head: The Figurehead by The Cure
Atmosphere: Depressed.

We are flawed by our own inherent design.

I mean, if we weren't wired this way, would we be experiencing the emotions we do? No, of course not.

And so the design of us as emotional creatures who get affected by the tiny little things is ultimately flawed.

But that's what makes us who we are, you know. The wiring in our heads. It affects our strengths and weaknesses as people.

But yes, it is flawed. But if it were utterly perfect for us all, would life be interesting?

I think not.

Thoughts have been taken.

Tunes in my head: Demand by Phish
Atmosphere: Reasonably happy, I guess. Bit worried.

I want to become a better musician, really.

I want to get into a band and experiment with different styles and forms.

To write music, in a number of ways. To compose, to improvise.

Any takers?

Love's shattered pride.

Tunes in my head: Twenty Four Hours by Joy Division
Atmosphere: Shattered. Utterly fucking shattered.

I might have emotional needs too.

When you needed me, I was there. I was there to talk, to give a shoulder to cry on.

And when I need you, what do you do?

You run away, and don't give me the support I need.

I was the only one to hold you up when you needed me.

You aren't getting anything compared to what I had to go through. You aren't getting the full brunt of the pain, the full onslaught. You're merely diluted.

I break my promise. I have regrets.

They need not be permanent. But they're becoming that way.

Please don't put me through this. If everyone says I'm such a good person, why are you CHOOSING to put me through this eternal torture?

I gave you absolutely everything. I gave you every shred of positive emotion that I had left. I gave so many things that I held dear to me in order to make you happy. I even betrayed myself, and my own moral beliefs just to give you more. I did absolutely everything for you that I could, and you chose to simply toss it all away as quickly as I willingly gave it? And you wonder why I'm the way I am. I gave everything I had left. And it obviously wasn't enough. It obviously wasn't enough to make you happy or to keep you in any capacity.

They say that love is like a cliff face. The soft parts are quickly eroded, leaving only the hard shell. It's true.

So this is permanence, loves shattered pride.
What once was innocence, turned on its side.
A cloud hangs over me, marks every move,
Deep in the memory, of what once was love.

Oh how I realised how I wanted time,
Put into perspective, tried so hard to find,
Just for one moment, thought Id found my way.
Destiny unfolded, I watched it slip away.

Excessive flashpoints, beyond all reach,
Solitary demands for all Id like to keep.
Lets take a ride out, see what we can find,
A valueless collection of hopes and past desires.

I never realised the lengths Id have to go,
All the darkest corners of a sense I didnt know.
Just for one moment, I heard somebody call,
Looked beyond the day in hand, theres nothing there at all.

Now that Ive realised how its all gone wrong,
Gottas find some therapy, this treatment takes too long.
Deep in the heart of where sympathy held sway,
Gotta find my destiny, before it gets too late.

Enough.

Tunes in my head: Backwards Down The Number Line by Phish
Atmosphere: Pissed off

FOR FUCKS SAKES STOP TREATING ME LIKE FUCKING SHIT
IT IS REALLY FUCKING HURTING AND I CAN'T TAKE IT ANY MORE
TREAT ME WITH SOME RESPECT BEFORE I END UP FALLING OFF THE STOOL ONE NIGHT AND HANGING MYSELF
YOU ALL MAKE ME WANT TO FUCKING DIE
AND ONE DAY YOU'LL PROBABLY PUSH ME THE FUCK OVER THE EDGE
AND I GUARANTEE YOU WILL NOT LIKE THE RESULTS
BUT ALL YOU HAVE TO BLAME IS YOURSELF
NOBODY ELSE
JUST YOURSELVES
YES THERE IS MORE THAN ONE OF YOU WHO HAS BEEN TREATING ME LIKE CRAP
EVEN WHEN I'M THE SELFLESS BASTARD THAT I ALWAYS WILL BE AND GIVE MYSELF TO YOU YOU STILL TREAT ME LIKE FUCKING SHIT
BELIEVE IT OR NOT I MAY BE STRONG BUT I AM EXTREMELY WEAK
THE TURTLE IS WEAK WHEN THE SHELL IS REMOVED
AND EVERY LITTLE STEP EVERY MISSED OPPURTUNITY EVERY SIDEWAYS GLANCE
IT JUST DRIVES ME FURTHER AND FURTHER TOWARDS THE CLIFF
AND ONE DAY I WILL FALL OFF AND TAKE YOU ALL WITH ME IF THIS CONTINUES
I DON'T WANT TO END UP THIS WAY
BUT YOU ARE LEAVING ME NO CHOICE

And if I ask you why I'm swimming by.

Tunes in my head: Theme From The Bottom by Phish
Atmosphere: Bipolar

I'm incredibly happy.

I'm incredibly sad.

It's over.

It's over.

I poured my heart and soul into it.

And it's finally at a state of completion.

The Last Rewind is finished.

And that makes me so happy and so sad.

So happy that I've created an amazing piece of writing.

Sad that I won't get to develop it more.

To conclude this chapter in my life, I will finish up with posting the retrospective journal entries about why I did it and what influenced me.

I would like to conclude this segment of the post by thanking you all for your infinite support throughout the process.

--

I don't know why I even bother when I don't get what I want.

I could have been on the floor, dead.

And you wouldn't have noticed.

You treat me this way consistently. Whenever I'm needed you know I'm there. Whenever I need you you're never there.

It's time for a change before it's too late.

It's time for a change before someone does something irrepairable.

I want the newest section.

Tunes in my head: Be Mine by R.E.M.
Atmosphere: Holy shit, I just swapped them. Obviously fucking stressed!

My first HSC exam is in 16 hours.

I am FUCKED.

Kristy's was...up and down, as per usual, I suppose.

But mostly reasonably good.

Be well, people.

Intellectual stuff to come later?

Tires and action, thoughts and traction.

Tunes in my head: You Enjoy Myself by Phish
Atmosphere: Creative

peering in through the wall
my image moves around
he stares aimlessly at the tile
and beats me to the ground
i try and fail to defend myself
as my mirror stands proud
there's nothing left that i can do
no-one hears screams so loud

i clamber up from the sink
and taste the bloody drool
from the other viewpoint
it must be some kind of fool
i cannot think or double back
there's nothing to be said
escaping from the iron grasp
before becoming so dead

I kneel by the river by which she rides.

Tunes in my head: Tela by Phish
Atmosphere: Doesn't know. Loving?

In her gaze, I crumble into dust and drift away on the wind.

But then again, is that really so good?

She seems rather interested. Whether she actually is is anyone's guess, really.

I doubt myself some days, even over such silly issues.

I mean, should I be questioning myself so much over it or not?

Probably not.

But it's all I do anymore.

It'll end well, hopefully.

--

as he saw his life run away from him
thousands ran along
chanting words from a song
"please me have no regrets"
came from the babies mouth
we followed the lines going south

I will never have regret, no matter what I do.

I may occasionally wish that things went differently.

But I will never regret the way things do go.

Because life is meant to go in whatever way it does.

In my opinion, we only have free thought, never truly free will.

This is as a result of other people's free will.

If nobody had free thought, however, how could they achieve free will?

Life will go on as a result of people's actions. Like it or not, another person's actions will always influence one's destiny.

As a result, a destiny can never be truly unbound unless as a result of complete solitude, which is at best impossible to achieve.

We are tied down by other people's actions.

By people's reactions to our actions.

People hold back as a result of these reactions. Surely there has been a moment in one's life where they have held back as a result of other's reactions.

As a direct result, the concept of free will is impossible to achieve.

Nobody can influence our thoughts.

But everybody can be influenced by them.

We were strangers.

Tunes in my head: I Remember Nothing by Joy Division
Atmosphere: Energetic

Almost done.

Four more days and I can relax for a moment.

If only with you.

Remembering you, falling into my arms, crying for the death of your heart.

Tunes in my head: Pictures of You by The Cure
Atmosphere: Depressed

will I ever find the courage to let it all go?

i'm always just breaking apart
my pictures of you

Am I becoming more hardened emotionally? And is this a good thing?

The fact that even this doesn't affect me as much.

Will I be a hardened, empty shell?

I really don't want to be.

I like me being me. The highly emotional romantic that I am.

But he's dying.

He's dying from lack of use.

There are brief glimmers, but nothing full on. Nothing that actually means anything anymore.

To conclude tonight's depressing little entry, I'll show you something that I think is incredibly beautiful and at the same time depressing. And no, it's not a photo of Suzy.

Joy Division - Ceremony

--

This is why events unnerve me
Then again, the same old story
Hope for turn, the wheels are turning
Turn again and turn towards this time
All she asked was strength to hold me
Then again the same old story
All the travelled oh so quickly
Travelled first and turned towards this time

I'll break them all, no mercy shown
Heaven knows it's got to be this time
Watching her the things she said
Time she cried too frail to wake this time

I'll break them down, no mercy shown
Heaven knows it's got to be this time
Avenues all lined with trees
Picture me and then you stand watching

Watching forever
Watching love grow