some days will kick you up the bum
all you can do is ho and hum
and swear a bit
or kick a door
and wonder what this life is for
you've burnt the toast
and blocked the loo
the world has got it in for you
the funny bone just isn't fun
you've tripped and landed on your bum
you want to cry
and scream and swear
no clothes that fit
nothing to wear
so take a breath
maybe one more
and think of things worth fighting for
have a tea
sing out of tune
who cares it's just you in the room
you'll look a tit
feel out of place
hey welcome to the human race
we're all like that
don't feel a pratt
some days just suck
don't give a fuck
there is always tomorrow
Friday, 20 January 2012
what a difference twelve or so hours makes
i was planning on being really creative today . i was honest i was , i had creatively blogged this morning and creatively skipped upstairs and creatively made a bed cleaned ones creative teeth and did some creative hurling of dirty washing at the machine.
Then it happened THE CURSE OF THE BROWN D.W.P. ENVELOPE.
Bastard horrible bloody thing. i don't normally swear in a blog but for this one i am making a big fuck off exception. I had been expecting this since about last November. From November to December every time anything came through the postbox and landed on the welcome mat i did the tourette's twitch thing and on many occasion almost put my neck out. But they had done a sneaky thing and lulled me into a false sense of security until today.
Today i get the envelope that heralds the end of life as i know it. The end of any sense of safety . My appeal tribunal date . Even as i type this my stomach is turning and i want to cry . I won't it's just a blog. It's not as if i'm about to be made homeless well not yet anyway i have a month till this thing. I have a month the work out where the hell they want me to go , how the hell i get there if there are any high ceilings, how likely i am to get lost miss my time and then be stranded while a bunch of no mark bastard strangers decide my fate have a laugh a cup of tea talk about the soaps as i crumble at the road side.
Am i feeling sorry for myself ? nope i am a realist and realistically i have no idea how i am going to get there what i am going to say or if they will even believe me . I have no support no backup from anyone so i am pretty much screwed . If leaves you wondering sometimes if it is all really worth this. On the outside i look fine bit tired round the edges needs a hair cut could loose a few hundred pounds, but if you can string a sentence together then obviously your fine. If you don't seem to need anyone to fight your corner then your obviously cured. erm no , but i guess if im not dangling off the top floor of tesco's car park then all is not quite lost.
I'm going to publish this wait for the backlash from the truly ill which will probably begin in Ernest . Poor Ernest things always begin in him . And i'm going to go and have a fag.
I will be fine .
This coming from the person who on her head stone will have in-scripted " Was always fine till she wasn't . Then she was fucked."
Sorry will now stop rambling and bugger off .
It's been a shit day .
and thus the pants have spoken.
Then it happened THE CURSE OF THE BROWN D.W.P. ENVELOPE.
Bastard horrible bloody thing. i don't normally swear in a blog but for this one i am making a big fuck off exception. I had been expecting this since about last November. From November to December every time anything came through the postbox and landed on the welcome mat i did the tourette's twitch thing and on many occasion almost put my neck out. But they had done a sneaky thing and lulled me into a false sense of security until today.
Today i get the envelope that heralds the end of life as i know it. The end of any sense of safety . My appeal tribunal date . Even as i type this my stomach is turning and i want to cry . I won't it's just a blog. It's not as if i'm about to be made homeless well not yet anyway i have a month till this thing. I have a month the work out where the hell they want me to go , how the hell i get there if there are any high ceilings, how likely i am to get lost miss my time and then be stranded while a bunch of no mark bastard strangers decide my fate have a laugh a cup of tea talk about the soaps as i crumble at the road side.
Am i feeling sorry for myself ? nope i am a realist and realistically i have no idea how i am going to get there what i am going to say or if they will even believe me . I have no support no backup from anyone so i am pretty much screwed . If leaves you wondering sometimes if it is all really worth this. On the outside i look fine bit tired round the edges needs a hair cut could loose a few hundred pounds, but if you can string a sentence together then obviously your fine. If you don't seem to need anyone to fight your corner then your obviously cured. erm no , but i guess if im not dangling off the top floor of tesco's car park then all is not quite lost.
I'm going to publish this wait for the backlash from the truly ill which will probably begin in Ernest . Poor Ernest things always begin in him . And i'm going to go and have a fag.
I will be fine .
This coming from the person who on her head stone will have in-scripted " Was always fine till she wasn't . Then she was fucked."
Sorry will now stop rambling and bugger off .
It's been a shit day .
and thus the pants have spoken.
today i am
Today i am a leather clad rock star standing center stage among the flashing strobe lights.
Today i am a super hero invisible , a fighter.
Today i am a dancer carried away by wave upon wave of sound, moving effortlessly where the music takes her.
Today i stand alone on a cliff top looking down at the sea below me, the wind blowing in my face, my hands in my pockets.
Today in my mind i can be anything i want to be. That's the beauty of imagination it takes you to places that you wouldn't normally go to. It changes you into someone that you couldn't ordinarily be. It allows you to have relationships with people that only you know and to feel things that only you could understand. It takes you away for just a few moments to another life .
Who will you be today ?
Today i am a super hero invisible , a fighter.
Today i am a dancer carried away by wave upon wave of sound, moving effortlessly where the music takes her.
Today i stand alone on a cliff top looking down at the sea below me, the wind blowing in my face, my hands in my pockets.
Today in my mind i can be anything i want to be. That's the beauty of imagination it takes you to places that you wouldn't normally go to. It changes you into someone that you couldn't ordinarily be. It allows you to have relationships with people that only you know and to feel things that only you could understand. It takes you away for just a few moments to another life .
Who will you be today ?
Sunday, 15 January 2012
stolen moments.
We all have these hidden away in the very farthest corners of our memory. Those times that we can't forget, those passing moments that once warmed our soul, gone but never forgotten times.
What are these moments ?
The kiss that stopped time just for those few seconds, when the world faded away and it was just the two of you.
A smile that lights up a face, a laugh that fills your soul with warmth.That first touch that takes your breath away and leaves you shaken. The memory of how two hands would fit together, fingers entwined . Those walks you would take together, sometimes silent, sometimes talking of things that now no longer matter. The way you would stop and watch the view and hold each other . How your head would fit in the hollow on their chest and you would lie there listening to their heart as you went to sleep.
They used to be who you were, but now you keep them locked away in your mind. You know they are there a constant reminder of what once was. That once you didn't think you could live without these things, these people who caused so many emotions. Because with these memories comes the forgotten feelings, the love, the sorrow, the heart break, that feeling of loss.
Put them back into that box, shut the lid, take a breath. There was a time when you couldn't breath without them but now somehow you do. You draw a breath, you carry on but you never forget.
What are these moments ?
The kiss that stopped time just for those few seconds, when the world faded away and it was just the two of you.
A smile that lights up a face, a laugh that fills your soul with warmth.That first touch that takes your breath away and leaves you shaken. The memory of how two hands would fit together, fingers entwined . Those walks you would take together, sometimes silent, sometimes talking of things that now no longer matter. The way you would stop and watch the view and hold each other . How your head would fit in the hollow on their chest and you would lie there listening to their heart as you went to sleep.
They used to be who you were, but now you keep them locked away in your mind. You know they are there a constant reminder of what once was. That once you didn't think you could live without these things, these people who caused so many emotions. Because with these memories comes the forgotten feelings, the love, the sorrow, the heart break, that feeling of loss.
Put them back into that box, shut the lid, take a breath. There was a time when you couldn't breath without them but now somehow you do. You draw a breath, you carry on but you never forget.
Monday, 5 December 2011
Christmas Bloody Christmas
It's the most wonderful time of the year or so we are lead to believe if we listen to the song that has been stuck in my head since mid november.
The grim truth is i hate it and everything it stands for. The gluttony , the greed , the sprouts, crap so called christmas films that should fill you with a sense of zombie like happiness. They don't they are just bad films that are thrown at us at the same time every year and labeled christmas classics.
Then there is family. Those wonderful folks that you spend the vast proportion of the year avoiding like the absolute plague and here they are all flatulent from sprouts wearing the stupidest paper hats and in your LIVING ROOM and your expected to play board games with them.
There was a christmas not so long ago when for a split second while cutting carrots, i did toy with the idea of cutting off a finger and spending christmas day at the hospital. For those few magical moments i was happy in my day dream.
Sadly this time of year is fast approaching with all the enthusiasm of a chocolate smeared toddler who has just filled his nappy. How do i know this you may wonder.
Well it's the little things that give it away.
Firstly it's getting cold there is talk of snow.
Secondly the adverts have taken on their own air of desperation and forced happiness. So now they are even more awful than usual.
Thirdly some social net working sights seem to be filled with people putting up pictures of the christmas tree the symbol of the first of many arguments in the household over this period. I don't want to see them . I have zero interest in the fact that all your lights are working and you have morphed your frontroom into another santa's grotto.
So this year as with every other year i can think of i will refuse to send out the cards , i will grudgingly buy the minimum amount of gifts. If i get pressured into it i may grumpily throw a tree somewhere ( i got one already decorated ) and i will spend the rest of this time reminding people who really should know better to not bother me with anything even vaguely seasonal. I don't want cards i will send back gifts i would like to be left alone on my own so i can have the perfect non christmas for me.
The grim truth is i hate it and everything it stands for. The gluttony , the greed , the sprouts, crap so called christmas films that should fill you with a sense of zombie like happiness. They don't they are just bad films that are thrown at us at the same time every year and labeled christmas classics.
Then there is family. Those wonderful folks that you spend the vast proportion of the year avoiding like the absolute plague and here they are all flatulent from sprouts wearing the stupidest paper hats and in your LIVING ROOM and your expected to play board games with them.
There was a christmas not so long ago when for a split second while cutting carrots, i did toy with the idea of cutting off a finger and spending christmas day at the hospital. For those few magical moments i was happy in my day dream.
Sadly this time of year is fast approaching with all the enthusiasm of a chocolate smeared toddler who has just filled his nappy. How do i know this you may wonder.
Well it's the little things that give it away.
Firstly it's getting cold there is talk of snow.
Secondly the adverts have taken on their own air of desperation and forced happiness. So now they are even more awful than usual.
Thirdly some social net working sights seem to be filled with people putting up pictures of the christmas tree the symbol of the first of many arguments in the household over this period. I don't want to see them . I have zero interest in the fact that all your lights are working and you have morphed your frontroom into another santa's grotto.
So this year as with every other year i can think of i will refuse to send out the cards , i will grudgingly buy the minimum amount of gifts. If i get pressured into it i may grumpily throw a tree somewhere ( i got one already decorated ) and i will spend the rest of this time reminding people who really should know better to not bother me with anything even vaguely seasonal. I don't want cards i will send back gifts i would like to be left alone on my own so i can have the perfect non christmas for me.
Sunday, 4 December 2011
Identity.
If i died tomorrow who would remember me ?
How would i be remembered?
What have i achieved ?
Who am i ?
Have i actually done anything or have the last nearly 40 years been just a mass of wasted opportunities and bad choices ?
If i lost everything tomorrow what would i actually loose ?
These questions maybe horribly morbid but for some time now they have haunted me.I'm no longer sure what my life is, what i am supposed to do , what i'm here for. I'm drifting deeper into a hole. Sometimes i see myself and think i don't know you. This isn't me. I'm not who i was. I had plans. I had things to say, now i'm not so sure.
Anyone reading this will most probably tell me to get a grip. After all i have my kids, I'm in a relationship. I should be happy, content, but something is missing. In having these things i have lost a sense of myself..
Before i drown in my own self wallowing, I have a question.
HOW MANY OTHER PEOPLE OUT THERE FEEL THIS WAY??
Yes there are those lucky ones out there that are happy and content with themselves and their lies. They have everything they want right now.They can sit and look about them and say " Yes i have everything i want and life is good."
What about the rest ? What about the people who catch a glance of themselves in a mirror and just for that split second wonder if that is it. The people who look at what they have and wonder " is this it?"
"Is this what my life is like ?"
"Is this what i chose?"
"Is this who i chose to be ?"
The people out there who don't know who they are inside.
Or is it just me ??
How would i be remembered?
What have i achieved ?
Who am i ?
Have i actually done anything or have the last nearly 40 years been just a mass of wasted opportunities and bad choices ?
If i lost everything tomorrow what would i actually loose ?
These questions maybe horribly morbid but for some time now they have haunted me.I'm no longer sure what my life is, what i am supposed to do , what i'm here for. I'm drifting deeper into a hole. Sometimes i see myself and think i don't know you. This isn't me. I'm not who i was. I had plans. I had things to say, now i'm not so sure.
Anyone reading this will most probably tell me to get a grip. After all i have my kids, I'm in a relationship. I should be happy, content, but something is missing. In having these things i have lost a sense of myself..
Before i drown in my own self wallowing, I have a question.
HOW MANY OTHER PEOPLE OUT THERE FEEL THIS WAY??
Yes there are those lucky ones out there that are happy and content with themselves and their lies. They have everything they want right now.They can sit and look about them and say " Yes i have everything i want and life is good."
What about the rest ? What about the people who catch a glance of themselves in a mirror and just for that split second wonder if that is it. The people who look at what they have and wonder " is this it?"
"Is this what my life is like ?"
"Is this what i chose?"
"Is this who i chose to be ?"
The people out there who don't know who they are inside.
Or is it just me ??
Thursday, 3 November 2011
just a blog
my life is a station platform on which i stand and watch the trains of lives gone by as they pass through it. The memories of stolen moments, the regrets of what could have been and never really was. People i have known and lost and miss with every passing day. And now i stand alone the cloak that numbs me pulled close and tucked under my chin as the wind whistles heralding another train another chapter.Will this be the train that takes me away from my thoughts to that rock where i can sit and not feel. So i can take off my cloak and throw it to the sea and watching as the waves take it and pull it under. Will this be the train that free's me?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)