Tag Archives: rant

Cyclothymia –


I wake up to an epiphany everyday, buzzing with thoughts, high on adrenaline.

Catapulted into the stratosphere with nothing more than a basket of dreams and tears of fear.

There is no come down from this everlasting nightmare.

The switch is neither on or off the fuse is merely pulsating to the beat of dread.

Desperately willing to cut the cord, hoping for nature to break my fall.

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A riddle of life


I sit in a room thinking, wondering through a maze of hysteria.

Unknown triggers and abnormal fears plague my uninspired mind.

I sit here in tears, I’ve learnt nothing all of these years.

I should have known this trap this malice despite such pity, I am still thinking about fear.

As I sit in this room, looking at a crooked path. Waiting for an offer that can’t be kept.

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Work….


He wanted nothing more than an escape, his grip on reality was slipping. His days merging into total chaos, like a whirlwind sucking him into a dark abyss.

It was Sunday night, his stomach was in knots. Another day of typing, another day sat in a room filled with fluorescent light and the sounds of people selling their souls and drowning in thoughts of horror.

“five days…Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thur….Fri….” he punches the mirror, he can’t even look at himself. Looking down at his numb fist he watched the crimson flow drip slowly into the sink “I need to escape, start again…I need my life back” he opened the bathroom door, his flat was small and in sheer disrepair. His lounge was his bedroom and also his kitchen it consisted of a singular cupboard with a microwave on top and a single mattress on bare floorboards covered in stains. It was dark and damp. The smell of death was ever present and despite several complaints to his landlord, it fell on deaf ears.

He lay down on his bed and tuned his radio to BBC radio five live as always. He felt hungry, his lips were dry and his eyes stinging from a constant migraine that never seemed to stop. He always had the radio on whilst he slept, it drowned out his thoughts and made him feel safe in the darkness. Secretly he enjoyed listening to other people’s woes, with Stephen Nolan asking “outside the box questions” in a cut throat manor. Tonight was no different to any other Sunday night, he closed his eyes laying naked on his bed. It was cold, goosebumps spread down his skinny Mal nourished body.

“I’m fed up of today’s society Stephen, Snow flakes…that is all they are. In my day I would work fifteen hours straight Monday to Saturday, I had six kids to feed and was paid £10.00 a month. Now tell me how that is fair?” The radio presenter took a long pause…”your pathetic you work nine to five Monday to Friday earning £1000 per month…and you say you can’t do it? You really are a worthless creep and you don’t deserve any better because your not capable of earning it” He took another pause “this gent is right you have to work hard and do what you need to do to live and that is it”.

The room began to spin as he opened his eyes he could see nothing but blackness, the radio was talking to him again…”do the right thing Micheal we know you are listening to us, do the right thing and contribute to our great Britain, you cannot and will not defy us. Work is the only way out. Work until you can no longer work, then you can die.

“What do you want from me…I can’t do this you can’t control me I’m a human being I’m alive…” He picked up the radio and in a blind rage threw it across the room, the sound of intermittent static filled the room…”hahaha your alive because we allow you to be alive….you work for us we own you. You will work for us until you die and there’s nothing you can do about it.

He stood up, he struggled with his balance walking towards the window, he knew how to finally escape. He climbed upon his window sill, his vision still blurry and dizzy. The room fell silent the radio was smashed to bits. He turned his head to take one last look. The cold wind penetrated his flesh, he turned to look back at what he was leaving behind.

“Fuck it….”.

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Radio


You think your so sophisticated
But I just think it’s cheap

Hold onto that desparate moment
Your ready for the heap

Whsipering words that fool us
Trapping us in the deep

It takes a psychopath to know this
Your leading us like sheep

Destitute but moving foward
dawn cannot become morning

Theres no place for this nonsense
Your scared now it’s just boring

I have seen it in your eyes
You where the one who never cries

So don’t play me like a radio
Don’t play me like a radio

Put me out my missery

A drip dropping to the ground
Forgetting where I am

Holding onto what I can
Shhh don’t make a sound
The monsters are trying to get me

Blacked out eyes
Preaching lovers lullabies
Scorched amber skies
Taking over, haunting me
Sad sad times
Turning sober I know it’s over
Your playing me like a radio
Your playing me like a radio
Your play—ing me like a rad—-io

You think your so sophisticated
But I just think it’s cheap

Theres no place for this nonsense
Your scared now it’s just boring

It takes a psychopath to know this
Your leading us like sheep

But I’ll keep walking
I’ll keep walking
Walking till your over me

Blacked out eyes
Preaching lovers lullabies
Scorched amber skies
Taking over, haunting me
Sad sad times
Turning sober I know it’s over
Your playing me like a radio
Your playing me like a radio
Your play—ing me like a rad—-io

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Faded


I’m Fading gently
Blissfully unaware
back to the prison
A prison I call my mind

It’s harder lately
Being left behind
Time stops growing
But the air keeps flowing

Take me back
To the times of joy
A riptide of emotion
Storming upon me

I’ll sit back and wait
As the crows nest fly’s
Knowing only to well
This will never end

Keep on going, don’t forget
Keep on living there’s no regrets
Keep on growing, please don’t fret
Believe in what you say

A high tide ignites me
But the sea has given up
I’ll spend a lifetime knowing
That this was never that

I look for hope above me
I cannot help but weap
as the stars aflame burn
So does this prison of hurt

Glass smashes abruptly
As I throw my pride away
I’m feeling a bit half empty
A place I’m afraid to stay

send me on my way
To live just another day
Waiting for somthing
A little more than this

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Stop (something i stumbled upon…)


 

If I close my eyes I see nothing but black, when I open my eyes I’m presented with the middle finger from a world that doesn’t give a fuck. Only the best man knows the secrets of a life without a fist up his crack. Puppet master oh puppet master grant me one wish I plead remove your tightly clenched fist from my rectum I insist don’t stare me down don’t call my bluff just release me from this world that gives no fuck.
In return I shall prosper until my card is called a lifetime released from this truly lethal decree. Spared from the words of our keeper prepared and aware of a lapse in your promise. I and only I shall hide within the woodwork listening to the brass clockwork tick and then and then stop.

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Eat, sleep and breath trains


Ok…I get the train everyday, I suppose as a writer that’s good. I get to see so many different people…I’m on a train at the moment. In my head I’m mentally interviewing all the passengers. “hello…” I say “are you capable of being a rounded protagonist in my latest story?” they never reply, instead the reaction in body language answers for them. Mostly hostile. If someone came over to me and asked such a question I guess I would feel the same. My point is this; my writing can be very negative at times, I blame the passengers of the trains I am on. Merseyrail should have some sort of policy… “you will become a persona of fiction, so smile and don’t murder anyone. Or fines will be issued”. I suppose until then I’ll be writing plenty of negative and hostile stories. People are ignoramuses. This bloke looks interesting, are you a murderer sir?

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