Hope you got an extra Mic and a fire proof booth
'Cause you know I’m known to melt a wire or two
You need a fire engineer when I lay this blaze
I melt down cracks that thrills the slaves
I can crush a thousand stars and drain your love
But it never ever seems to be enough
Rape my mind and use my body up
A thousand stars, and your love
When the sun dies, I find a new sun
When the bird flies, I call a new one
When the sea dries, I make a new sea
And I can’t stop the hunger in me
Possibility of moving out of my flat and into a new home coming up in the new year, very exciting stuff. Nice little cottage styled bungalow with a garden, shed, three bedrooms and more space than this flat. Hopefully this pans out.
I had a slight wobble on mental health and dialed back some things in my life to sort me out. Ive opted to postpone surgery as there are issues with pursuing surgery with my needs in other countries, insurance for that, complications etc. While this puts me slightly back on the drawing board, it does mean I can get other things done for my long term betterment while I sort my options.
Oh, holy rabble
We art ensnared
To quiver liketh rippled air
Diocese of dead, melt sand
Worship with thy chroming hand
Coal-black clad horizon
Maketh landborn petromyzon
Summon forth thy motor spirit
Drink the fuckin’ gas and killeth
Take my weapon, step into a whole new realm
And step back, as I take up the helm
On the pirate ship I’m steerin’
Drop into gear and
Just realize what you’re hearin’
We live in a political world
Where love don’t have any place
We’re living in times where men commit crimes
And crime don’t have a face
I peer behind the looking glass
The truth of what once was has set me free
With the sin of a thousand lies
The words you spoke to me
A beast you cannot tame
We rise above the flames
I unmask the beast
I was blind, but now I see
Dictators’ speech
Blasting off your life
Rule to kill the urge
Dumb asshole speech
Who will go down to the shady groves
And summon the shadows there
And tie a ribbon on those sheltering arms
In the springtime of the year?
The songs of birds seem to fill the wood
That when the fiddler plays
All their voices can be heard
Long past their woodland days
We’ve been rambling all the night
And some time of this day
And now returning back again
We bring a garland gay
If all is fair in love and war
I haven’t seen the score
But it can’t be either of those
Want to bite the hand that feeds me
Wanna turn the tides
Set the demons free and watch them fly
Strike down the one who leads me
I’m gonna take his place
Gonna vindicate the human race
second novel draft complete, 110,000 words, reading tests put it at around average difficulty for mid teens, so about where I wanted it in terms of accessibility for reading age. Time to give it a rest for a few weeks and return with an edit later.
Slowly gutting out the flat, considering my housing options for the future and how i want things to be here. Exhausted mentally but needing to push on.
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There was a vending machine, it was obscene
Sold a build-your-own tuna sandwich thing
So I had a cereal bar in my blood-stained bed instead
Yes
There was a soda machine, had a turquoisey-sheen
Equally as insulting as the tuna sandwich thing
And I had no desire whatsoever in purchasing anything
And the guys were laughing, buying something
There was a laundry machine, working
Working, yes it was working
And the half-lit Denny’s sign was weirdly comforting
Tried getting in
We were driving down the highway near El Paso
Stopped at a gas station
Two guys had just won forty bucks
On a scratch card, filling up
With gasoline, I was observing them
Said he’d take it to the whorehouse that evening
Poor girl deserves a warning
And his iced tea was yellowing
That was a bad decision, that was a bad decision
Le sommeil m’échappe au petit matin
Je t’ai dit “À bientôt”, mais c’est pas la fin
Bien perdu dans le confort
Tu me rends un peu folle, et ça prend trop peu d’effort
Tu sais mes secrets, même les bien cachés
J’avoue, tu me connais mieux que jе m’connais
C’est bien chouettе, mais j’ai pensé
Si toi, tu te barres, à quel point je changerais ?
This summer I went swimming
This summer I might have drowned
But I held my breath and I kicked my feet
And I moved my arms around
I moved my arms around
This summer I did swan dives
And jackknifes for you all
And once when you weren’t looking
I did a cannonball
Saw these guys open for Funkdoobiest, House of Pain, and Cypress Hill in 1994.
None of them are actually black, so I don’t think this would work today. They would all get trolled off social media and quit “to focus on mental health”.
No better time than the present to make him an offer
He can’t refuse but might regret it, so I’ma set it
