My latest blog entry
Sammy's blog tax man stop the world tonight Hands of time Natural Love As I please Strolling Southbank Ode to a pigeon Ode to an Automobile It's all relative Away today Crime Fear Fashion all too soon Feelings Beware the Hooded Glare Turmoil Human nature Compassion, Capitalism and Confidence. Some thoughts Can't Drive, Don't Drive Something I wrote... I've heard those words before and I know what they really mean, I say, I've heard what you've got to say, and I'll tell you I don't really mind either way, see, I hear your words, and I know what they mean, absolutely nothing. So let's be friends, it's so cool, let's chat shti, about being bullied at school, but I won't call you, a friend, will never see you, just pretend, I know what you mean by friend, really nothing, in the end. I'll tell you what, let's think of a funny thing, with a funny story, and draw it in a funny way and get it and a few of it's mates on tv today, with a overly English accent, the little gent is tasked with replacing the U.S shows that won't relent. Their grip on youth clouds the sky, fogs the truth, and isn't nearly as funny, as it is concerned with money. And after school, there's nothing good to watch on tv, there's nothing that really communicates with me, so it's playstation 3 or sky tv, it's too hot, too cold, too scary, too dull, to go outside and play, the darkness signals the end of my day. Ask me if I hate your guts, ask me if you think I'm nuts, coz I don't know what we are doing, no idea, where we are going, see I hear, you're fat, but oh my dear, I really couldn't care any less about that. Aren't you tired of everyone, on tv constantly talking about looks, haven't you had it up to here, with pop pyschology and self help books? They litter the streets of our town, and are designed to keep us down. You don't opt in, and you can't opt out, and you won't get heard, unless you shout! Life peer, oh dear, create titles to maintain, the status quo, continue feeding, your growing ego. Longford, you saintly fool, I really do not know quite what to make of you, it would be fatal, if your kind breed, die out instead, are you taught to love, who taught you at school? Why do you think all answers come from above, and who are you to judge, with a nudge nudge, wink, wink, I deplore the things that I hear you think. Lord Longford would support you if you show up to pray your sins away on any given sunday, he'll forgive torture, murder and all forms of abuse, but if you dare be gay, he'll soon yell "burn in the fires of hell" but hell's run out of gas, frozen over through sheer mass. You see that man, the immaculate quiff, sublime, slightly receeding hairline. A touch of sun kissed tan, he certainly looks healthy, how I'd loved to have met him when he was twenty, I'd loved to have been around him in 1983. Everybody says what's wrong? Everybody says why isn't he filled with insecuirty, like a rumour going around class, they never stop to think to ask, to me, it's all so funny, the way everyone calls him morrissey. You must be musculine, as can be, you must be educated, to the point of being witty, you must be unique, cheerful, and extremely pretty. There's too many bodies in shop doorways, too many stains up against window panes, the streets are filled with stars, in thier eyes, on tv, and mainly found fame through criminality. They're famous amongst the masses, in pubs they drink from ever filling glasses, they high nobility of the working classes. Come along with me, you may just be able to see, a place you can belong, and be endlessly happy, everyone here is, living free, nobody here is, unhappy, least they don't admit it, they'll suggest I quit my job, as life is fairly shit, but deep down I know I couldn't be without it. Listen sonny jim, this is a democracy, supposedly, you only exist to facilitate me, you're only admin, get off my back. Poxy tax man, speaks over me, in financial terminology, treats me like customer number six billion four thousand and three. Demanding money, I haven't got, the tax return, I forgot, had to be done, oh, isn't capitalism fun. Just don't go, that's what she said, said the pain I felt was entirely residing inside my tiny head, just don't bother to go, that's what she said, please don't go, you or I will end up dead. Run all night, run wild, run free, run through the night, just to be closer to me. I use to like "the people's band", I use to get right in to their sound, and follow them to gigs if they were in my town, I use to really like "the people's band". It's just that now, you've got three swimming pools scattered around mansions, and the experiences you're conveying and droning on about, are not from the life you're living day in, day out. We ain't got no bodyguards, or investments, we got no country estates nor celebrity mates. We ain't got no winter retreats, we've no specially reserved seats, we save and pay, but why should we expect you to show us the way? You're voice is a background noise, you're fading out fast, you don't speak to me no more, and you ain't gonna last. After the first hit, fly by fan fare to New York New York, go overseas doing your shit, after the first hit, everyone says you're the shit, everyone tells me to like you, to get with it. Since the first hit, everyone's falling over themselves to declare who's it, who's got it, and who's the shit. Round Tottenham, erm, you must be on about a different bit, down pass the high road, so I'm told, is a right shit hole, I go there, look around, stand and stare, and come back down, while you converse with cheap coke heads and cracked up skag heads, all on a come down, drugged up, london town. Oh what a happy town, oh what a cheerful green and pleasant land. Why do I get down, why does it all seemed planned? And not by me, see I don't find this predicament, the least bit funny. See while you're are out on the pull, while you are out drinking beers, playing pool, while you're at home, myspacing people you didn't speak to at school, I'm wondering, I'm wandering and I am wondering, what it would take, what's to be said, this is the city of the brain dead. And I'm the worst, I'm at the front of the queue, I wanna be first. What's to be said, this is the city of the dead. I hold the key to my cell and use it to remove dirt from my finger nail. All your prejudices are forgotten, as the hand of a stranger reaches down for your bottom, the touch makes you feel wanted, excited and now you, filled with desire, look up at the face that did so much to inspire, love and hate, and something in between, what do these emotions mean? Now in the window sale is on, the old ladies home once stood there, now it's gone, but still, there's a sale on. The shelves are bare, the shoppers don't dare leave a thing, and as the checkouts ring, the old lady recalls a life once lived within these four walls. But barge right pass, gotta work fast, runnnig out of time, to make things mine, this one, that one, in you go, gotta get the new stuff, tv said so. I really wanna know what you think, coz I feel quite dumb, I really love the way you sing, coz I feel numb, I really wanna hear your point of view, I really wana do anything you tell me to. I was afraid of the streets, the yut and hood, then I heard your beats, and felt like I could and that the world was beautiful and good. Then I ventured out, got tracked by a group of kids, I try to be like you so I just shrugged, but you must not go the places I do, or walk the streets I have to, I got mugged, and now I'm on the look out for angry beats. Mud with grass in, damp musky old barn, wooden bench pilling on the misery, working showers, not in use, dirty men in cleaming boots, shouting about how they're right up for it, the dirty men, where I sit.
My mumbled jumbled thoughts, as confidence retreats, a sudden surge of self doubt, as I walk these lonely streets. I'm searching for a sense of something else I guess, something to cast a shadow over the darkness, to ignite the fire within me or simply free me from insecurity. Now it's all over, and I've got to give you up, he found us out, and he did his nut.
My mind wonders, I run away through plots and plans, but my eyes wonder to the kitchen, and the pile of pots and pans.
You sing me your song, and I dance to the rhythm of your fable, it's lovely now how we're getting on, all too soon you'll discover I'm unstable.
In green fields where no child plays, in darkened rooms on lonely days, there is a place that we can go, through damp dreary towns, past all those sad faced clowns, to the place where the lions laugh and the cheetahs cry, and the elephants observe the scene beneath a pink and fluffy sky. Oh, so, another night out, spent in, another invitation, another explanation, sinking fast, drowning in a sea of my own insecuirty. Still, one more day, to get through, one more word, to feel closer to you. Locked alone, slightly afraid, the things I should do to change my mind, I can almost taste them, but I say I will some other time. When I'm sitting here, where there's free drugs and beer, and angry men, I distance myself and pick up a pen, and write something on paper, that I know I'll cringe over later. Still I don't care, I won't worry, you're not there so I won't hurry. Take my time to find a rhyme and live a lie, to look around and wonder why? Come on, too strong, you're weak, I'm insecure, you're a bore, but I'm still hoping you'll call, aren't we all? And now I'm sorry, I never meant to say sorry, but I don't know what I'm doing but I hoped that you might! And now you've told all your friends about a guy who you don't know, but you don't care, and it's all for show, life's not fair, although it can be fun, but I'm just myself, when all's said and done. The major of cape town, arrested over her participation in another protest. In jail, no heroin, try a subby, crush it up and do what you like. More mild than brown. Run out of money, drug testing gotta go. You can’t buy security or even peace of mind for $6 per hour.
I remember, was it November or December? Eitherway, fat cat cashed in, the worker was left to pay, with retirement savings wiped away.
You don’t walk the same streets that I do,
You don’t venture the places I have to.
Don’t just sit there and do nothing.
In darkness, the waistband descends, a soft caress, the carelessness, of youth, she so oft defends. You with luck and nature on your side, have no reason to hide, I've seen you face on your myspace, you with looks and grace on your side, have no reason to hide. I have something to say, I dreamt it up yesterday, walking home, walking alone, to be home, all alone. Oh you'd find it so funny you'd cry, you'd demand to marry me and I'd cry and wonder why. I've decided to be through waiting, for a bespectacled girl or boy, to cling to and to annoy, I've decided I'm over, I'm so much older now, and yet I still do not know how, this town, love or life is supposed to be enjoyed, when I'm down below or up above, I hope I leave a wife, that I've annoyed. We as people have divine power
Building a economy on the business of fear
Cheney's famous 1% doctrine
You got flagged as suspicious
You’re going on the hit list.
You’re internet activity has caught their eye
Down your phone they will spy.
In most civilisations habeas corpus
Is an inalienable right. Not in the great democracy of greed, lust, and hypocrisy that always wins the fight.
With each crack of the whip, earn yourself more money
With each drop of blood, you distance yourself from me. Collect dollars, hand in neighbours, who knows the truth, Are they terrorists, sure they are, send for the troops. Locked up for no reason, tell ‘em what they want to hear, Admit to anything from goat herding to treason. When you’re so very gripped by fear.
Hollywood and the music industry, Look on enviously At the money being made, In homeland security.
900 a day in south Africa, die from aids that is.
Beetroot and garlic will not save you,
anti-retroviral medication
is a more realistic source of salvation.
Some things must be privatised for the sake of the treasury
Some things must be nationalised for the sake of the community
I owe dough all over the show,
My credit limit don’t match,
my income flow.
So, after the initial meeting, the excitement had not so much worn off as mutated into self doubt and worry, phone calls unreturned, emails un-read or un-remarked, the promise of a chance meeting wiped away and now only the horror of my insecurity remains. I long to talk openly, to dispel all my fears and embrace a love that knows no boundaries and has no limit on the days call count.
Yet I am aware that with every step forward I take you take one away, and now I can’t chase you, but I can’t stop the feeling that I want to get to know you more, but I don’t know if I can because I have always thought when I meet someone I can tell right way whether or not they will be the kind of person I could fall in love with, and I always hunger for the fairytale version of a love, the one where you want to spend every minute of everyday with this wonderful person you’ve just met, and more than that I want to meet someone who wants to be near me, I want to meet someone who can’t stand to be without me, who can’t stand not to see me, not to speak to me, I want to love and lose myself, I want to love and cure myself, I want to be so wrapped up in it that nothing else matters, that nothing else hurts and nothing else worries me.
Okay so now I know, I tried to call you, just to chat, just to get to know you, just to let you know, but you don’t answer, you, you hurt me. You made me cry. Now I lay me down by the fire, and silently wonder why I ever thought I was so special. Now I know we’re just like the rest, and yet I still wonder why, why is it such a crime, why is it such a crime to be so innocent. Goose neck scrapper
Goose neck scrapper
Long like the tongue of a tapir
Goose neck scrapper
Goose neck scrapper
Got a bent up neck like a goose
Helps scrap the barnacles loose,
Goose neck scrapper
Goose neck scrapper
Find ‘em on ship decks,
Not scrapping long necks.
Goose neck scrapper
Goose neck scrapper
Let the goose loose
And I’ll see you later.
A sweaty hand job in a damp dark toilet cubicle of a play,
We feel dirty and cheap after the first act.
Broken home, a disconnected wind up telephone
No one now calls out within these four walls.
When I’m by myself at home
And I start to think and then feel alone,
What will you say to me?
What will you offer me?
Can you construct a connection with me,
Delight me, excite me and set me free?
Build me up, and get me high,
Then knock me down and make me cry.
Can we concoct some choice reality,
And mock preachers with our beautiful morality.
Or will we enter into a pack of solidarity,
Of unspoken heartache, and unspeakable insecurity.
But now when the pressure’s on, can you be the one
To take us back, to that place,
where the sun always shone,
And the birds always sing,
Enticing we dreamers from our dreams,
With their melodic song,
It turns to shrills, the screams, the cheap thrills, ruins our dreams,
Once the cat’s fully out of the bag.
Or would you further entrap me, imprison me,
Get me high, break my heart,
knock me down and make me cry?
I can still hear the preacher,
An insecure, tired out, weathered
Former science teacher.
Dispensing his views,
With all the authority of
Corrupt prison screws.
He’s twice as sincere,
If slightly less mad,
His smile a veneer,
For inside,
He’s tremendously sad.
When he used to run, and play
And laugh aloud all day,
He had no need of a congregation,
No ambition for supernatural recognition,
He had no time to preach this way.
My garden hides a jungle,
Beneath the flowers beds,
In between miniature trees,
There is a world of the unknown,
A world not yet fully grown,
Where tiny creatures,
from another world do roam.
How I wish I was as visionary as you,
I wish I could see my world,
In the same way you do.
Mistake plastic rosemary beads,
For glow in the dark
Pearls of wisdom,
But who really oversees this
Once United Kingdom?
I got talking to a French Kangaroo and the Classroom dunce during lunch, for my sin, I threw the majority of the fetid grub in the bin, to disapproving looks from exhausted cooks. Roo asked who would bother with such foul fodder and the dunce remarked how he'd been to McDonalds once. Well, the thing is, there's was this girl, she was younger than he, he being me, me being 23, well nearly, and after fleeting glances on the commute and getting to the train station just in time day after day to chat to her on the way, well we exchanged emails, and decided to meet up on a saturday and spend the whole day together, just walking around London town talking, joking, flirting and eating sweets. We had a brief encounter in a quiet place, and I started to think of her as an emotion and not just a pretty face. Of course, this was but the honeymoon, for all too soon, the darkness falls, my endless emails, of utter waffle give way to too many missed calls. And I have nothing to say, so I say I'm bored, but really I just can't stand to be ignored. And so in a mood most black and dreary, feeling forlorn, weak and weary, I enquire, as is my desire, to discover if she be part of my destiny, I utter, "Do you like me?" Oh boy, you're turmoil's new toy! What a twat! What kind of question is that! She said she did, what else could she say, but I doubt I'll hear from her today, or tomorrow, at least I'm at peace, content with my sorrow. And then it's uncomfortable, bumping into her on the train, I could avoid it, but I'm running late again, and not on purpose now. I know, well I think, she doesn't dislike me, maybe she did like me a bit, but now I've managed to curtail that idea and she'd be forgiven for not wanting to hear from me again. I guess it's just the way things are, people are not how they seem from afar. You know when you just think, if I could only speak to you honestly for a little bit, without distractions, I'd explain that I'm not paranoid or totally insecure, maybe I lack a bit of confidence and could get out more, but I'm really nice person, I've been upset before so I try not to upset anyone, I'm quite funny at times and I've got a really good imagination, it's just I've not adapted to social norms, I don't know what to do in certain situations, when should you text after a date, or should you call, should you invite the person out for a drink, if they say they are busy should that be taken as a hint, or a polite rejection? Why is it such a big deal to say, hey, look, I like you, do you like me? It's quite nice and general, you can say anything to that, like, yeah I do let's go for a drink or something, or you can say, sure I do, but not in a romantic way, let's just be friends ay? Or you could say, well I thought I might, I enjoyed meeting you that first day, it was fine and I imagined we'd go out again sometime, but then you went all weird and I thought you were a bit of a freak! Next time, the thing to do, don't start liking them, until they like you! I'm so sorry, I don't know how to explain, whatever you might be feeling, I doubt it's close to my pain. I'm just not myself, I suppose it comes from all the years sat upon the shelf, I know I need to get a grip, but when I do, my palms are so wet they slip. It was never about you, and all the things that you do, it was always about me, and my own sense of inadequacy. I pray that you'll forgive and forget, one day.
About me
I am a creative
Age: 23
I live in London E - United Kingdom Last online: 29/05/2008
Status: Single
I want to go here:
Dorset Devon Somerset Japan Thailand The Lake District Egypt Kokomo Island Somewhere nice people occupy
I enjoy these activities:
Thinking
about
things
living
in
my
own
imagination
prose
poems
short
stories
silly
plays
that
no
one
but
me
will
find
funny
books
films
music
meeting
interesting
characters
My favorite books are: Doesn't
seem
much
point
listing
everything
depends
on
my
mood
favs
at
the
moment
are
Knowledge
of
Angels
The
Republic
The
Beach
Dubliners
Crime
and
Punishment
Importance
of
being
Earnest
Adventures
of
Sherlock
Holmes
The
Tiger
came
to
tea
My favorite films and tv shows: I'll
merrily
watch
almost
anything
I
like
anything
that
makes
me
laugh
or
feel
anything
really
Withnail
and
I
is
a
fav
anything
with
Dudley
Moore
or
Peter
Cook
Blackadder
everyone
loves
the
Goonies
and
Monster
Squad
is
a
film
I
loved
as
a
kid
and
still
love
no
point
listing
more
or
I'll
feel
bad
for
the
ones
I
haven't
mentioned
because
I
still
love
them!
I really like these kind of bands:
I
listen
to
all
types
as
I
think
everyone
probably
does
really
but
I
really
like
The
Clash
The
Smiths
The
Libertines
Patti
Smith
Ramones
DPT
Adam
Green
really
like
Tymon
Dogg
too
but
depends
on
my
mood
really
you
gotta
have
music
that
you
feel
don't
you?
So
it
depends
how
I
feel
at
the
time
I
guess
I play these sports:
Football
sunday
league
it's
funny
because
you
come
across
some
funny
characters
last
sunday
after
a
clearly
fair
tackle
a
bloke
said
to
me
"you'd
betta
watch
it
boy
I'll
cut
ya
good
and
proper"
Classic!
What I'm looking for:
to meet other writers, to network, to make new friends, to engage in intellectual debate, to...not sure why,
My employment status is:
Full-time employee
Eye Color: Green
Hair Colour: Black
Body Type: Average
Race: White
Smoking Habits: Sometimes
Drinking Habits: Sometimes
Education: Degree
Have Children: No
|
My Events: | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
View all of Sammy's friends
Add
a comment