This is where I hide

After dreams about other people's suicides, I wake up in a cold sweat. Shaking, I get out of bed and stagger to the window. I don't exactly know what I'm trying to achieve. I grab a nearby glass and wobble down the stairs to get a glass of water. I'll never sleep soundly again.

Like a flower opening in the sunlight. The window groans and creaks. I lean out and shout at passersby to help me et over my fear of leaving this room, but nobody even turns their head. I shut the window and draw the curtains. The television shows the same old static, so I crawl back into bed.

I'm not looking forward to work tonight. But I always say that and after half an hour I'm always enjoying myself. [I hope you are OK]

The sound came from the bottom of the stairs. As usual. I tried to leap out of bed, but found that I was frozen to the spot. Damn fear! Damn cowardice! All I could do was listen as my door creaked open. I squuezed my eyes shut beforehand. Now what will happen?

People breeze past like leaves on the wind. I can't help but feel that we could all be feathers one day. Soaring higher, more beautiful.

No seminars yesterday. Turns out there is none in the first week. Now I'm off to buy a bottle of wine. [I hope you are OK]

There is no national anthem for the place I am in right now. There are no words to speak or sing. Let me flow away, like a leaf in a stream. And then maybe I'll find a home.

I blink in the midday sun and try to remember a time when I thought that was the warmest feeling I had. Now it makes me shiver to think about it. I was never cut out for this kind of work, and I know too well that I can't go back again.

I got up at 8am to go to a seminar at 9 only to find that the tutor didn't turn up. I'm going to the 11 seminar to see if that's any different, and it better be! I'm don't want to have got up that early for nothing! [I hope you are OK]

Walking the line and following the stream as it flows to it's source. The hill is high, but I struggle up it anyway. Fields, miles and miles of fields. Is this where I want to be? I trip and fall down into a ditch. Maybe this isn't my home after all.

Almost an answer. That's what slipped from their lips. Past the teeth all the way into the air around us all. We cheer, and we celebrate. The sun sets and we all stumble home blindly in the dark.

I had a bad turn yesterday. I felt really ill sometime in the late afternoon, and couldn't make it to the library. I don't feel too great today either. [I hope you are OK]

Strength in number is merely a myth, there is nothing an army of people can do against an explosion. As we sit with our heads between our knees, we know exactly what the moral of the story is. But it slips from our minds.

More things I shouldn't know. How do people get away with lying? Why is it that the sky remains still whilst we all swarm around the streets? How can we sleep at night?

Put down your pens and start acting. There's no way of winning if we just sit and write about "the things that should be done". If people don't listen, we can get back to staining our pages with ink.

The room seems to be seperate from the rest of the house. A floating room, suspended in mid-air, complete with a door and windows. Somebody walks through and above my head, walking on nothing. I leave the room and shut the door behind me. I'm not meant to know these things.

21. Twenty-one. Interesting, I still don't feel any different. [I hope you are OK]

So many things can be put into our bodies to make us feel different. Either better or worse, higher or lower. But when people start to realise the benefits of ignoring this side of culture, who will make the money? By now everyone knows that something is forever wrong.

Slower and then faster. The cars whizz past me at speeds I thought unimaginable. By the time I find somewhere to rest my feet, people in metallic monsters are already home, or dead.

My DS has given me much amusement. I've started collecting the X-Files series, complete with a fan magazine with every DVD. [I hope you are OK]

I don't feel like any stories are going to come to me today, so I shall just recount what happened last night. Last week in my hometown of Bishop Auckland, one boy died of a methadone overdose and his best friend was found unconscious beside him. The funeral was last night. As I was walking home with a friend, we saw a funeral-goer climb up onto the railway bridge just across the street from us. Now the fall wouldn't have killed him, but serious injury would definitely have ensued. I dialled 999 (whoever says mobile phones are a waste of time should consider this) and the police rushed to the scene. We were eventually moved along as the usual coaxing began to get the boy down, and we happened upon two other funeral-goers, one of whom was the best friend of the deceased. Me and my friend walked with them, as they had to take a detour around town to get home, since their friend was on the bridge. The police, obviously, could not allow them to walk past or interfere. During the walking that followed, I built up a picture of two people who have been absolutely destroyed by this incident, and by the sounds of them, they would never be doing anything ever again. The bigger of the two gave me a parting hug, and told me that he had changed his opinion of "goths". I will remind you that I am not a goth in the least, but still, his comment and appreciation for what I had done really touched me. Everyone has a good place in them somewhere. And on a suddenly entirely more unimportant note, I've begun my Winter-Een-Mas holidays in style by buying myself a DS, complete with Mario Kart and two GBA games- Harvest Moon: Friends Of Mineral Town and the oringal Zelda game (as part of the NES classics series). [I hope you are OK]

I fell asleep at the worst possible time, and when I awoke it was all over. I rubbed my eyes and gazed from my window to see that the horizon was on fire, and where there once was buildings, there was now nothing.

He's made the most mistakes, the most errors, and has omitted more than anybody else in our search for the true reasons. But still we bow, still we kiss his feet. We should know better by now.

Back to Monday, and another week has begun. What will happen, I'm not entirely sure of. [I hope you are OK]

Everyone is convinced that the villainy is well and truly over, but when things like trust fail to strike a chord with anyone, we know we will never be free from lies and suffering.

No matter which piece of land I stand on, I never feel at home. I can't settle in one place or one frame of mind. If I make a decision, sometimes I feel like I should change my mind straight away. Nowhere is my home.

People are forever looking over my shoulder. I feel like I'm being invaded, my personal space is being slowly but surely TAKEN OVER! As much as my privacy is being preyed upon by everyone else, I can still manage the slow walk home without turning on someone and asking what it is they want from me.

I caught someone out, and they weren't happy. I saw them trying to break into a car, and they turned and ran. But the next day my house was the victim of stones and rotten eggs. So what do we get for making where we live a safer place? We get abuse, taunts and violence. I decided to move somewhere else again. There must be somewhere calm.

I'm going for a drink in an hour, so I shan't be around long. [I hope you are OK]

Suddenly, everything has changed. Just one sentence that arrived to me changed my entire view on the world around me. Now the walls bleed yellow from every corner and my vision is fading.

Contemplating what I am going to make for my supper when I get home, I cross the street as the lights blink green and red. There is a hole in the road. Holes again, they seem to be appearing everywhere lately.

I am the person who guards his door, making sure that nobody gets in but him. One day, out of pure curiosity, I decided to take a quick look in the room. It had been tugging at every nerve in my body since I started doing this job. After a quick look, it wasn't really worth risking my job over.

Slowly was how I started off, walking step by step back home. But walking through these streets at night was never something I enjoyed doing, so gradually my footsteps quickened, and the echoes rang through the quiet rainy streets. A carrier bag blew by, and I was so caught up in its flight that I didn't notice the car crawling towards me.

I'm going for a drink tonight. My usual bottle of wine sat at one of the tables in the Tut 'N' Shive. [I hope you are OK]

Damp seeps though the plaster, and the walls are eaten away. As the decay continues, I still keep myself wrapped up in my mouldy blankets. The ceiling collapses, and I fear that asbestos is digging its way into my veins, through my bloodstream. I run out into the street and cough up blood, but this is normal. I'm not too worried.

A carrier bag full of secrets. That's what he carries as he stumbles home after another night drinking. What he keeps in that bag is unknown to me and everyone else who passes him on the street. But they did find him dead in an alleyway in the morning. And his carrier bag was nowhere to be found.

I'm at work tonight, and that's about the only exciting thing I can tell you. [I hope you are OK]

As faces melt through the walls and cloud my memory, I suddenly remember the good times. The times when I wasn't haunted by things that never happened. Why do I get these visions of things I've never seen?

There was a dip in popularity, and then we fell and fell. The people who once loved us have thrown us away. Being in the limelight is hard when everyone is so fickle.

Back in Bishop and nothing is happening. I've just decided to drink a lot again. [I hope you are OK]

After the war came the famine. There were less resources than we expected to keep us going and one by one the victors died. So what was the point?

Calling up people on the phone who aren't alive anymore is a fruitless task. There will never be a reply, never a voice on the other side. Not one that you expect anyway.

Back home in Bishop to another two weeks of drudgery. I can't believe how much I'd actually missed Sunderland. [I hope you are OK]

(III)- What scares me the most is how many weapons mankind feels that it needs. Enough explosive power to destroy us all one way or another. I just wonder how long it will be. It could be hundreds of years away, or it could be a few days away. We are so unstable it is impossible to predict the date of our demise. Just hope it happens in your sleep. What clever words I write! This is the view of some people I know, but it never justifies the value and deeper meaning of these writings. Look past the pattern of the prose and stop trying to read between the lines. Hidden meanings shall remain hidden. I will disguise my words, wrap them around sentences and syllables so that only I can see them. I apologise in advance for not revealing myself fully. You can not expect any more or less from me.

Bragging rights are now outweighed by the knowledge that the knowledge you acquired was not acquired by the usual standards we usually expect. We can now officially throw you out of office.

There's no blood here, how can you expect to launch an investigation now? Holes in the wall, glass on the floor, scribblings on the walls. This seems like mere madness.

All calls are recorded for training purposes, your statutory rights will not be affected, please see base of tin for best before date, buy one get one free, sale sale sale, we never lie to anyone, we never hide the facts.

After the phone stopped ringing, somebody told me that someone I knew had gone away for a long holiday. I laid back and accepted that as the only feasible reason I hadn't seen them for so long. Then ten years later I decided that somebody had spun a tale.

I'm going back to Sunderland for a short time tomorrow. I have essays to write. [I hope you are OK]

Something here is amiss, but to pinpoint the exact detail would mean nothing for us. There would be no more luaghing, no more queuing and no more miraculous survivors.

They keep suggesting things to me that make no sense. As people dive for cover, I wonder what exactly they are hiding from. I walk unarmed into the field and see no danger there.

Surprise surprise. Nothing new has happened today. It's been so long since I sat down to write. Perhaps this coming week I will scrawl some words. [I hope you are OK]

Crying out for a change, something to break. Something must break soon. Turn a corner and find an answer, find the darkness before you find the light.

I walked through my door as usual and dropped my keys on the floor. I yawn and stumble blindly towards my living room door. Looks like there's more holes in the floor. I wonder what causes these things?

Things that seems to always occur when time stops never cease to become frightening in the eyes of people who do not understand the fluctuation.

As another meter blows, another leak starts and there is becoming less and less air for us to breathe. When the pipelines all run thick with smoke we'll all be trapped indoors.

Today has been another day of nothing for me. I'll be drinking shortly. [I hope you are OK]

People live up to such farces as though they're too used to everything that happens around them. But when the time comes for me to be cast away from everyone else, I don't want any lies to be told or stories to be embellished.

Throwing things onto the fire that won't even burn, I notice that the sky is changing colour again. Some would say that I'm too different to be part of the in-crowd, but I don't mind. I don't mind at all.

Funerals are awful. The more I go to, the more I think about how much I hate Catholicism and Christianity. I have no time for chants and prayers in my life. I shall forever remain agnostic and as far away from a church as I can when I can be. [I hope you are OK]

Through everything else comes an answer to something. Besides all the mistakes and omissions comes the truth. But despite this knowledge of all things quiet, I'm still not sure who is ever who.

A day can pass too fast and a night can pass too slow. I should recognise this face but for some reason the darkness is getting to me. Thinking about things for too long can only lead to further confusion.

Stuck between a rock, a hard place and an even harder place. Two parents that hate each other, one funeral. One parent has already claimed me as their companion for the day, the other one has no idea about this. The sooner tomorrow morning is over, the better. [I hope you are OK]

A sharp word cuts the air like a hot knife through melting butter. The harsh sounds of the word circle everybody around us and settles in the ears of the recipient. And then the fighting begins.

Thirteen days from then, still there was no word from anyone. It seemed like the years we spent building this project up, it was going to end in this tragic way.

So after a few new CDs and DVDs and some harsh words directed at stupid people who decide to hover around outside stores and insult everyone that walks past, I wish you all a Happy New Year. [I hope you are OK]

As I make mistakes, so does everybody else. I cannot be held responsible for everything I do. Please forgive me if I ever do anything wrong. It's my own fault for being so critical and condesending.

I couldn't open my door. I found that as I slight state of emergency. So I ran back upstairs and asked for help, but nobody was around to help me to my feet. There's just no way of finding help these days.

We are all flawed, there's no way of being perfect. I apologise for being a stupid person. [I hope you are OK]

I don't even care anymore. If people can't deal with their situations, why should that affect my life in any way? I live for me, and even that is hard enough to do sometimes.

The night fell even quicker than usual tonight. I fell down some stairs and tripped over some inanimate objects. And when I finally managed to claw my way back to my feet, somebody told me that it wasn't even worth it.

Other people have amazing talents, like being able to drag me down with them and annoy me intensely with their whining when there are an infinite number of people worse off than themselves. Enjoy your life while you have it, and if you don't, you may as well go and kill yourself. I'm really starting to be beyond caring. [I hope you are OK]

People flee in all directions, scattering the snow and sending cars screeching off the road. As the swarm approaches, people cluster together in desperate attempts to protect themselves. But this fruitless act soon leaves everyone split up, abandoned to the inevitable.

Never before had the world seen such an act. As the snow fell and ash rained down on our faces, all we could think about was what we were going to watch on television that night.

I'm very cold, and as you can probably guess, the snow is coming down pretty hard here. My feet are numb. Today I shall be doing not much, followed by very little. I have no work for three days. [I hope you are OK]

When the sun sets, they think they can get away with anything. Darkness sets the night up for a disaster. As the moon looks upon things terrified, people are at war with each other.

Thoughts are clinging to my memories, and memories are dangling from a thin thread. I refuse to be a slave of my feelings, and to blur things out, wine seems like the best option.

I'm still very tired, as I was at work last night. But I'm going for a drink this afternoon at the cricket club, and then I'm going for a Christmas Eve drink at the Tut And Shive too. Even though I hate this holiday more than any other, I hope everyone has a Merry Christmas. [I hope you are OK]

We are banner supported, never worry about how we feel about other people. Perhaps someone drinks more than they should, perhaps someone injects more than they should. The judgements will come later.

The supports holding everything up suddenly gave way and everyone toppled to the ground. After we had found the survivors, we attempted to establish what had happened, but several people deterred our investigation.

I've been for a drink, and I'm at work tonight. Not intelligent. [I hope you are OK]

The words he wrote are nonsensical, but somehow I understand them. I tell my remaining party to keep low and keep quiet, and thankfully they do so. A scythe swings low above our heads. Someone panics and that is the last time they ever scream. I fall to the ground and decide that giving up now is the best option. Why suffer all of this when you can slowly starve to death?

Don't look at me like that. I never asked for this. This INTERESTING development that left us both UNDERGROUND. I look up to the sky and think about the time we used to share. The times we used to LAUGH and run through old buildings together, not caring about the FALLING concrete supports.

I gave people Christmas presents and I helped my dad with his new flat. I also drank a lot and look forward to visiting a friend tonight. [I hope you are OK]

He gets a kick out of being outspoken. His arguments never get to the point and he decides to go against the grain just to be different. But perhaps this is better than being the same as everyone else, hopping on their bandwagons and starting riots.

That was the answer, but since the question changed we need to find something new. Eternally searching for something new, but there's only so many words in our language. Words are meaningless.

I'm in Sunderland, picking up a few things that I forgot last time I was here. Like my guitar, and people's Christmas presents. [I hope you are OK]

When the end comes, who will be looking up and who will be looking down? The ones who look up will see their end coming and accept it, but the ones who look down will not even know they have died, they will never accept such a cruel fate. And as the cities become haunted mounds of ash and rubble, who will be left to shake their head and shed a tear?

The forest of light is calling to me in the darkness, but I know I must avoid it. I try to stray from the path away into the murkily lit streets, but the trees grab me and drag me into the light, into the natural light. I fall amongst dead leaves and gnarled roots. I scrabble around in the dirt and fight my way to my feet. I wander aimlessly, meandering through trees towards nothing at all. The murkily lit streets get further and further away.

I stayed in bed most of today after a visit to a friend's house last night. I have a hectic week coming up. I'm at work tonight, I'm going to Sunderland for the day tomorrow, I'm helping my dad sort out his new flat tomorrow and then I'm visiting a friend, and then I'm at work on Friday. And then it's the Christmas Eve drink in my local pub. [I hope you are OK]

Words flew over my head and affected somebody else in such a different way than it affected me. I look back over my shoulder and wonder when the words that will change my life will come.

Trees sway in the wind, and to me it looks like they're reaching out for me. They lose their leaves in the autumn and decide to reach out for us, and then when they regain their foliage, the greens lure the blind men in.

Nothing happened yesterday. I worked and I drank. Today I've just been down to see my old next door neighbour. She seems to be doing well, she's been in a bit of an accident and hurt her leg, but she's putting up with it well. She gave me some Christmas money, I must make sure to push a card through her letterbox tomorrow. [I hope you are OK]

There aren't any doors in this room, so how did I end up inside? I try to peer through the window, but it's opaque. I sit in the middle of the room and count the tiles on the walls. After throwing myself around for a while, I decide that perhaps it is futile to think too much about the situation.

As everything fades away, I see one smiling face, waving. Somehow the figure seems happy yet sad at the same time. I wave back, and things keep fading. The figure blurs into mere shards of black and white, and then I suddenly snap out of my trance and find myself lying in the middle of my floor again, with an empty bottle of wine residing on my table. I slide myself back up onto my chair and flick through TV channels. There's nothing on again.

Last night's work went OK, they were all lovely people. I have work again tonight, but before that I'm having a few drinks and watching for football results. Because no matter how much I may say I'm not interested about football, I'm still a mere male at the end of the day. [I hope you are OK]

Exhausted, I come to a stop outside an apparently abandoned hotel. I find that the front door is open, and to my surprise, there's a receptionist sat at the desk, smiling to herself. I ask for a room, and it turns out that all the rooms are free. I walk up the stairs and down the corridor to my room, and suddenly all the lights go out and the walls around me age. Cracks appear everywhere, and a few of the doors fall from the hinges. I run back downstairs and find that the recpetionist has gone. I trudge back up to my room and get a good night's sleep after all.

My hat got blown off in the wind, and as I chased it I caught a glimpse of something on the horizon that should not have been there. I stop, letting my hat continue down the street. Wherever the light came from, it seems here to stay.

Last night's party was interesting... I didn't get very drunk and I went to sleep very early. Everyone else went to bed at 5am. I'm still really tired though, and I haven't had anything to eat all day. And I'm at work in an hour. [I hope you are OK]

Politely I excused myself and then strolled down the vast corridors of the building I had worked at for so many years. I smashed a window with my fist and watched the blood drip onto the marble floor. I suddenly felt very guilty. The cleaner had nothing to do with this.

On another one of my many late-night walks, I find a curious object lying in the middle of the road. At first I decide to ignore it, but then curiosity gets the better of me. It is rush hour, and the traffic storms past me at frightening speeds. I dodge and weave my way through the metallic monsters and finally get to the middle of the road. The object is a box, and inside is a small note that reads, "curiosity killed the cat."

I shuffled over to Manor Quay again last night, after the staff/student drink. There wasn't many people at that that I knew, but it was fun visiting a different pub (Fitzgerald's). I wore my hat. [I hope you are OK]

They were bricking you up when I walked through the door. You were balanced against the wall in a hidden room, slightly swaying, and they were about to lock the door. I turned and walked away, hoping that they would believe me when I told them that I would forget what I had seen.

The table surface is so smooth, it was obvious that sliding the glass across it would result in an accident. I stand up and apologise. Afterwards, I tip that table over, and our food is wasted.

I shuffled over to Manor Quay last night. I had a few drinks. I wore my hat. [I hope you are OK]

(II) Your traditions are beikng alienated and our lives are being lifted to areas where we cannot reach. That forbidden, out of reach shelf. If we accidentally interfere with our thoughts there could be secrets unlocked that should remain within ourselves. Wider advertising does indeed lead to the widening of public resentment. Long live commercialism, may it one day destroy us all. It would be a fitting end to a material possessions obsessed society. The downfall of us all will be ourselves, this is a fact that I have made clear on several occasions. But if it will make you more relaxed, you could let these words go over your head and underneath your understanding. When everything is about money, what other goals will we ever have in life but the pursuit of that? It causes wars, death and misery. If applied correctly, it can create happiness.

My essay was done and handed in, and my exam went moderately well. I am now free from uni work until I hand essays in halfway through January. I'm going to spend most of the week intoxicated, with any luck. [I hope you are OK]

Throwing your chances away. A chance you had to make something new for yourself. Be somebody different. But the rut we are all in is the same, just in different ways.

Worried, I shuffle around the room, trying to find what I had lost. I'm not exactly sure what that something is, but when I find it I'll remember.

I just spent all the pay I made over the weekend on CDs, a tie and a rather nifty hat. I have an exam today, and an essay due in. [I hope you are OK]

Even though things in the same places never change, we are always inclined to stare at them anyway. The concrete stays the same, and the atmosphere never changes. So why don't we look at something new?

A creak from upstairs makes me leap from the chair and spill the wine all over the carpet. Lucky for me the carpet is red, just as the wine is. I stalk across the room, and peer around the corner and up the stairs. There doesn't seem to have been anything disturbed in my eyeline. I slowly creep up the stairs, and get to the main bedroom. A scared face turns and stares straight at me. It seems that the owner of the house has returned.

I have work tonight, but that doesn't bother me too much. It's about time I started making money rather than spending it. [I hope you are OK]

Come on in, kick the snow from your feet and brush it from your shoulders. The cold night looks inviting, while the warmth inside is merely tiring. But come in, come in, I never turn anyone away.

A door bangs and my head spins round instinctively. Just the wind. This old house emits creaks and groans all the time, and the doors are all too rickety to stay closed in even the slightest of draughts. I rest my head against the wall and let my eyes wander back to my book. The dust begins to settle around me once more.

I have an exam in one and a half hours that I have no clue about. I might be able to luck my way through it. Then I need to post some stuff and do a little bit of Christmas shopping. [I hope you are OK]

Advanced Global Personality Test Results

Extraversion	\|\|\|\|\|\|	30%
Stability	\|\|\|\|	13%
Orderliness	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	46%
Accommodation	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	70%
Interdependence	\|\|\|\|	16%
Intellectual	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	63%
Mystical	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	76%
Artistic	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	76%
Religious	\|\|\|\|	16%
Hedonism	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	83%
Materialism	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	63%
Narcissism	\|\|\|\|\|\|	30%
Adventurousness	\|\|\|\|\|\|	23%
Work ethic	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	76%
Self absorbed	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	36%
Conflict seeking	\|\|\|\|\|\|	30%
Need to dominate	\|\|	10%

Romantic	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	36%
Avoidant	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	43%
Anti-authority	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	63%
Wealth	\|\|	10%
Dependency	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	76%
Change averse	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	90%
Cautiousness	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	76%
Individuality	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	70%
Sexuality	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	43%
Peter pan complex	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	90%
Physical security	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	90%
Physical Fitness	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	64%
Histrionic	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	36%
Paranoia	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	76%
Vanity	\|\|\|\|\|\|	23%
Hypersensitivity	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	90%
Female cliche	\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|\|	56%

Take Free Advanced Global Personality Test
personality tests by similarminds.com
[I hope you are OK]

[5:18pm]

Thursday, December 8, 2005

The way people wonder at the view of the river as the train creaks over the bridge. They stare as if they've never seen this sight before, but it is so breathtaking, there is no way to avert your gaze from it.

And then, once again, I find myself unable to grasp any meaning int he words that are spoken. Why do people never make sense? There is a way of understanding all of this, but there was never any way of saving yourself from the loss.

I've had a night of drinking and a day of drinking. Now I feel ready to sleep it all off. But alas, insomnia calls me and boredom is reaching out its' green and blue hands. [I hope you are OK]

[5:18pm]

Wednesday, December 7, 2005

A casual death, nothing too serious. Going like that is the way to go. Happy and fulfilled. Perhaps he wasn't expecting it, but life is like that sometimes.

Clawing at the walls of my tomb, I realise that there is actually no way out. My nails are shredded, some embedded in the concrete. I slump against the monolith in the middle of the room and take a few short, sharp breaths. I won't have many of those left.

I don't think I should drink as much diesel as I did last night ever again. [I hope you are OK]

[12:53pm]

Tuesday, December 6, 2005

After being knocked to the floor a few times, I was still getting back to my feet. Why did they keep letting me back up? Perhaps next time I should just stay on my back. Then in come the boots, willing me back to my feet.

As I watched time unfurl before me, I took a sip of my tea. Not enough sugar. A car smashes into a bus, a plane falls from the sky. I dump another two spoons of sugar into my cup. A house is swallowed by the ground, the sea is raging and ready to drown everything. Now my tea is too sweet. I go to tip it down the sink.

I bought a new CD player. 3 disc multichanger and two tape decks. I can finally make extra copies of tapes at home. Today I plan on drinking excessively to try and wake myself up. [I hope you are OK]

[10:47am]

Monday, December 5, 2005

I'm on the verge of nothing. As the sky falls for the third time, who will believe me this time? I won't run and tell the king, I won't run and tell anyone. This time I'm hiding, this time I'm hiding.

There was a black line flickering, briefly, before I turned the lights back off. Then there was a buzzing and I tripped over that damn chair again. I fumbled around in the dark for a while, then the black lines flickered again. It was like everything was being erased.

The remainder of my weekend was OK. I think I've been drinking too much though, I don't feel well at all. And my CD player is broken. Finally gave up the ghost last night. [I hope you are OK]

[11:40am]

Saturday, December 3, 2005

As a cigarette hangs lazily from the corner of his mouth, he is very aware of the fact that everyone in the room is looking at him. As he steps back into the corners that nobody else knows, a voice shouts something, inaudible. And then he is gone.

There's a sound in the distance, and it is definitely growing louder. My ears are not deceiving me. I step to the window to listen more closely, and then the sound stops. I sit down and rest my mind for a while, and then the sound starts again, this time coming from the opposite direction. I realise that someone is up to their old tricks again.

Last night's work wasn't too bad. Nothing too serious, just a few people having fun. And tonight is going to be even easier, not many people coming, not as many as last night anyway. [I hope you are OK]

[12:34pm]

Friday, December 2, 2005

(I)- Those attitudes, the ones that float around in the unsympathetic regions. Attitues of regret, regret that maybe we haven't done as much as we can to stop this destruction of ourselves. Attitudes of fear, fear that our years are declining much faster than we think, faster than we can control. But no matter what attitude you hold, there is no changing anything. Write your petty little words, take your meaningless meaningful photographs, and try to admire the beauty. You know that these are insufficient, inane masterpieces. Integrity cannot be shaken but stability can be toppled. How the mighty have fallen, along with their words and gestures. Everybody lies and everyone is corrupt. Everybody smiles but everyone is paranoid. There is a melody and theme to every word written, every tale spun and every fabrication woven.

My cheque cleared today and already I have bought The Futurehead's new EP on vinyl and CD, and also the Radiohead live DVD is finally mine. I'm at work tonight, at the beck and call of 80 people. [I hope you are OK]

[1:16pm]

Thursday, December 1, 2005

As the seasons change, so do the attitudes of people. As the skies turn grey, suddenly there are thoughts of murder in the air. And as the ice streaks across the freezing fields, accidents can never be avoided.

The greatest minds clamour around a small table, and words are passed round along with drinks. This time, the decisions must be final. They must decide what to do with their past mistakes. The man at the head of the table listens to the bickering and bargaining for several minutes before smashing his glass against the far wall. When he speaks, things cannot be changed. As all the eyes fall on him, some quivering, some defiant, he tells them all that the only option now is to live underground.

I didn't get to see �Forward Russia! last night, mainly because my friend for whom I acquired a ticket decided to leave ill without telling me. Only to be heard by me at 4:10am talking to one of his friends who had arrived mysteriously. I think I was cheated. Today is another day for trespassing. [I hope you are OK]

[1:27pm]

Wednesday, November 30, 2005

Perhaps my paranoia can one day lead me to some kind of truth, whether that truth is real or in my mind. The workings of others makes me wonder what their aims are. Sometimes I think people are doing things that they are not.

But now who do we turn to? When every last molecule has been melted down and all we have left is a puddle of vapours, there will be no solutions. Splitting the atom to blow us all up.

I didn't buy the Radiohead DVD, I restrained myself. At least I have until my cheque clears. Tonight I'll be seeing �Forward Russia!, and that's a good thing. [I hope you are OK]

[1:33pm]

Tuesday, November 29, 2005

So maybe I should celebrate, throw a party for all those people who ever crossed my path. The gathering would be huge, but the atmosphere would be cloudy. Perhaps it would be best to avoid confrontation.

Nothing planned for an entire year. Pipedreams came and pipedreams went, but still nothing was achieved. When is writing going to become the sole outlet of anguish?

No DJing tonight, not enough people were there last week. If you ask me, they were being a bit hasty in stopping the guest DJ thing after just one week. Whatever. I'm off to buy the new Radiohead live DVD today. Live at the Astoria 1994. [I hope you are OK]

[1:27pm]

Monday, November 28, 2005

I arrived far too early, and the room was as silent and empty as a graveyard. Once the snow has covered everything outside, there's bound to be some traffic delays. Maybe that's why everyone is late. As I ponder on these things, I study the room. The colour scheme is a bit loud for my tastes. Then the door opens, and the cleaner walks in with a mop and bucket and tells me to stop loitering in these rooms. They haven't even been used for five months.

I dropped something else again today. It's getting harder to grip things, harder to hold a knife and fork. The truth can cause strange anomalies, and I was exposed to far too much far too quickly.

Back in Sunderland again, and I have managed to re-equip myself with a phone. It has a camera. [I hope you are OK]

[2:50pm]

Saturday, November 26, 2005

It would be great to be something that everyone else wants me to be, but why change an image when it's easier to live in the dreams I keep having? Change is for the weak.

Rules are sometimes made to be broken. The pieces lie shattered around the kitchen floor and all they can do is stare. Why do they keep staring? Why does nobody make a move to help clean up?

I'm working an excessive amount this weekend, by my standards. I worked 7-11 last night, and I'm doing at the most 6-9 tonight, then 1-4 tomorrow and 7:30-10:30 as well. [I hope you are OK]

[2:07pm]

Friday, November 25, 2005

It never seems to be more than one minute at a time I get to myself. I'm here by myself but somehow I manage to be not alone. Where are those eyes? I can feel them, so they must be here somewhere.

When the end comes, where will you be? When the end comes, will you be fighting to save us all? When the end comes, will you have found yourself? When the end comes, will you be praying for our souls? When the end comes, will you have already died? When the end comes, who will leave victorious?

I had a bit of luck. My housemate was meant to wake me up at half eight so I could get here and do all of my internet doings before my lecture at 11. But he slept in, and I didn't wake up until 10. So I got ready quickly and went straight for my lecture, which is now only running from 12-1 rather than 11-1. So here I am after all. [I hope you are OK]

[11:00am]

Thursday, November 24, 2005

There was an evacuation here once, and as all the people ran from where they were hiding, they knew that there was no way they would be able to get out in one piece.

Cracks are appearing underneath the surface, and soon the ice will break. We'll fall through icy waters and wonder where we might end up. At the end of all this, I was going to ask some questions, but now I think it's too late.

Absolutely nothing to say today. [I hope you are OK]

[2:54pm]

Wednesday, November 23, 2005

It's like a party I wasn't invited to, but I arrived anyway. The eyes didn't know where to stare instead of straight at me. I felt like an outsider viewing an illegal operation. Then I settled in and blurred everything out.

Reflections are better in the darkness, as the light from the ceiling inherits the places where shadows cannot crawl. Spaces are filled with the light from nowhere.

I played to all of three people in Manor Quay last night. It was quite depressing actually. And I spent the last of my money in there too. Perhaps things will pick up in the next few weeks. [I hope you are OK]

[4:30pm]

Tuesday, November 22, 2005

Every day, in every way, there are more and more leaks in my mind. Caused by unknown circumstances and brought on further by lapses in concentration. One day there'll be no more mind to waste.

Words spring from nowhere and I find myself up before the moral jury. Hope never springs eternal, it just appears and disappears as fast as it arrives. Life doesn't always come in spring.

Tonight I will be, or at least should be, doing a small guest DJing spot at Manor Quay. Can't really call it a guest spot in the celebrity way unfortunately, but at least I'll get to play the music I want to a few people, I've always found that kind of power quite alluring. [I hope you are OK]

[1:12pm]

Monday, November 21, 2005

Somewhere the equation waits. As we travel further, we get closer to home, closer to an answer. At least that's what we like to believe.

Rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I find myself ignored by everyone and everything. It's almost like I'm not even here, a mere shadow walking around this place.

Last night's gig was fantastic. Let me go deeper than that. Last night I found out how powerful, admirable and overwhelming a Mew live show can be. I think it's about time they changed their name to The Best Band In Copenhagen. The set may seem sparse at only four songs, but they were performed fantastically and the music just flowed through eveybody.It wasn't until the end that I realised that they had sent sweet shivers down my spine and shot a beautiful arrow straight into my heart. But of course everybody was waiting for Elbow, and we were not disappointed. Guy came onto the stage and, despite his recent foot injury, pulled off a very energetic and entertaining set, complete with all the best singalongs including 'Newborn', 'Fallen Angel', 'Grace Under Pressure' and the new single and title track of their latest album, 'Leaders Of The Free World'. By the end of the show, everyone seemed drained, but happy. Very happy indeed. And one more thing, I'd like to say hello to my two gig-buddies. I always go to gigs by myself and do my best to make friends at every gig I go to, and the two people I met last night were amazing people. Thanks for keeping me company, sorry if I was an inconvenience in any way. [I hope you are OK]

[11:58am]

Saturday, November 19, 2005

Withheld information. The wires transmit the signals and the words that other people speak. As if anything else could be infinitely possible. The eyes all watch their screens, awaiting some kind of miracle.

When the time comes for you to fly away from us, I hope you will be ready to be set free. Being unprepared is no way to go. Pack your bags, book your ticket and make sure you have a safe flight. So many dangers these days, so many dangers.

I'm going to Ku club for the first time in forever tonight. I love the place, it's just finding other people that want to go. Fortunately, a friend actually suggested it last night. How could I refuse? [I hope you are OK]

[1:15pm]

Friday, November 18, 2005

If a mind is set free, what terrible chaos will they unleash? Keeping things locked in is the one thing we are the best at. As I stand and look in the shop window, considering whether or not to buy this or that, I think too much.

Like water finding its way back to the ocean, I find myself stood here on this patch of ground one again. I'm sick of trying to find meanings for the things I write. I drop my notepad on the floor and throw my pen as far as I can. It lands somewhere on the road in front of me, and is crushed by a car. I smile and wonder if I am free yet.

I broke my phone last night. Nearly a brand new phone. It was in my left pocket when I went to meet a friend last night, and as I ran round a corner, black ice caight me off guard. One slip, one smashed screen. And I have no money to replace it. So once again I am phoneless, at least for two weeks. [I hope you are OK]

[1:11pm]

Thursday, November 17, 2005

It's just one long conveyor belt forwards leading me backwards from where I've just come. I always look back at what I have done and what I should have done differently, and now I stand at the controls of the past. I smile with glee and start to change things indiscriminatly. I somehow, however, manage to miscalculate one change and wipe myself from existence.

Another town with another set of faces all wearing the same blank expression. This place is just a little smaller than the rest. I decide to settle down here, and talk to blank faces endlessly about weather, football and the government. Nothing ever comes of anything.

Well, my mum actually stopped by with her fiance today to drop off my TV stand from back home and give me �15. Bonus, can't complain about that. [I hope you are OK]

[12:25pm]

Wednesday, November 16, 2005

I fall into step two steps behind you and follow, follow, follow. There's no reason for it, I just don't want to be alone in this dark night. As shadows flicker in front of you, suddenly you start to run. Now being alone, I fall to the floor and accept my fate. Whatever that might be.

Orange lights give way to green lights. Then all lights go out. The day I've been waiting for. Now I am free of the colours and I can sleep for a change. But then focus comes back into view and everything blinks back on. I sag in my chair.

My mum's sending me �10. I hope. I've been waiting for packages from Amazon for weeks. I'm thinking about getting some emails sent soon. There is an opportunity for the elite to T.R.E.S.P.A.S.S. today. [I hope you are OK]

[12:40pm]

Tuesday, November 15, 2005

I used to do it because I enjoyed to, but now I do it out of mere routine. I breathe on the glass and write my name again, the road slips past silently and I sigh, covering my name up.

From where I'm standing, I can see through everything. The city looks so bright from up here, and so far away. And then a fire starts, and the smoke obscures my perfect view.

I didn't get to sleep until well after 5am this morning and I don't know why. I feel so tired now, and all I want to do is have money to spend. I may have to get in contact with my mum to get her to send some money. [I hope you are OK]

[1:20pm]

Monday, November 14, 2005

Lights twinkle so far in the distance, but that's a place I'm never heading to again. As I trudge along this lonely countryside path, I try to ignore the darkness around me and think instead about the trees and how they're all watching me. Their leaves rustle, and I become increasingly insecure.

Bittersweet apathy is what I exude when I see them like this. Another show that I don't care about. They can do whatever they want, I'm fine in this box, never going to come out.

The Golden Virgins were fantastic, and the support act, Kubichek, were just as impressive. I managed to spend most of my money though, and now I have just enough to see Elbow on Sunday, and nothing else. [I hope you are OK]

[12:32pm]

Saturday, November 12, 2005

It's sad but I agree, these things they just won't last/it's time to part company, but honey it's been a blast. So I say, so they believe, so they listen and so they leave.

Blue and silver mean the sky to me, and brown and green mean the earth. But I could never look you in the eye again until I get some kind of offer. Think carefully upon this idea.

I got a ticket to see The Rakes today, and I've also bought yet another PS2 tennis game. There's no such thing as addiction. I'm going to see The Golden Virgins for the second time ever today. [I hope you are OK]

[1:55pm]

Friday, November 11, 2005

6:18pm- He knows she has dropped the phone, there is that familiar sound of soft carpet, his carpet, despite what lawyers say. Now there is another sound, the sound of heavy footsteps on that carpet. Now a voice, calmer than expected. Well, all he can do now is let the fury out on this newcomer. Rage is flowing out, more than he can control.

6:12pm- After taking a few deep breaths at her door, he now feels ready to walk in and greet her. He can hear her on the phone, her voice is louder than usual. He turns a corner, opens a door and sees her. Then, before he can say a word, she is falling. He runs to her, and hears a loud voice eminating from the receiver. He stoops and picks it up.

And that's the end of that. Today I will be mostly sleeping I imagine. I don't feel too well. [I hope you are OK]

[1:11pm]

Thursday, November 10, 2005

5:55pm- He decided to surprise her. It had been so long since he had seen her. His holiday had been thrust upon him by his employers, to cure his stress and alleged depression. He knew he was fine but everyone else seemed to believe otherwise. He had unwillingly left her behind for three weeks to "relax in the sunshine" and to "escape from the rain-drenched streets."

6:20pm- She was awoken with a glass of cold water. She blinked and opened her eyes slowly, and sat up. Despite her best attempts to pretend everything was fine, she knew straight away that he had retrieved the receiver from the floor and had come into verbal contact with that old fool. Three years and he still hadn't forgiven her and still could not leave her alone.

Final two parts of this will be up tomorrow, and on a different note, my back hurts. [I hope you are OK]

[12:38pm]

Wednesday, November 9, 2005

6:15pm- She curls her hand around the receiver and whispers down the phone line. A door slams as the phone falls to the floor. It was not any specific words spoken that caught her off-guard, merely the volume at which they were spoken. Then she notices the new occupant in the room, and as she follows the phone to the ground, she sees the face.

6:10pm- He holds the receiver closer to his ear and slowly keys her number in. Engaged again. Furiously, he slams the receiver down. Then he notices his glass is empty. Fortunately, his bottle is not. He sweeps the glass aside, knocking it to the floor, and drains the last of the fluid. He snatches the receiver up again and dials her number. This time he gets a dial tone.

First two parts of a six part story today. It would be better to read it all at once, but if you keep up carefully, it should be translatable. [I hope you are OK]

[1:00pm]

Tuesday, November 8, 2005

He forgets things all the time, but always remembers to fall asleep on a night. He always remembers to lock his doors and switch his television off. But he never remembers to think about other people, their feelings of how much to feed them as they stare up from the small window of his basement into the outside street.

Where we are situated and where we are mentally are now two completely seperate things. If only we could gain some kind of answer from somebody perhaps we could come a little closer to home.

I just handed my first essay of the year in. I would have handed it in earlier, but things didn't work out like that. There are some places you can trespass in today. One of the poems looks a lot better on paper, but I think I did a decent job on it here. [I hope you are OK]

[12:06pm]

Monday, November 7, 2005

From one irony to the next we run. From rain in the summertime to hating everything we once used to love. Things always go full circle in the end. The end will always meet the end.

Ticking off my emotions one by one as they fly by. Is it sunny in the arctic today? How do the clouds tase? When will the sea consume us all? The questions we don't want to ask will never be answered.

I am now in Sunderland for three weeks with no home visits thanks to gig times falling on a weekend. I'm not overly bothered, but I only have �55 to last me that time. I need to be very careful with that meagre amount of money. [I hope you are OK]

[11:44am]

Saturday, November 5, 2005

Everything seems bitter about today. The rain falls bitterly onto the bitter pavement, and when the bitter sun comes out from behind the bitter gray clouds, I bitterly cross the road in front of all the bitter drivers.

As the lights circle around the area, he looks behind him only once, then runs and runs until he cannot move another inch. He knows he is not far enough away, and soon they will get him. I can see him from here.

I was disappointed to find out that since I'm at work tonight, I'll miss all of the shows I usually watch. I only watch TV one day a week, and I have to be working. [I hope you are OK]

[11:04am]

Friday, November 4, 2005

The silver bannister is all I have left to hold on to. A life of luxury, wiped out thanks to a simple clerical error. I shake my fist at the world in general, and head slowly downstairs to eat my last meal as a millionaire.

Slowly, slowly I head out into the open fields. I creep silently through the grass, trying not to make any noise. Of course, this is impossible, but I stay as silent as I can. I am mere yards from the forest and freedom when I hear a commotion, and a light swoops over the field. I dive into the undergrowth and crawl on now muddied hands and knees into the collection of trees. But this is just the beginning.

I finished the essay. I'm quite proud of myself. I may not get the highest mark, but I should pass with any luck. Today I'm going back to Bishop, to spend some quality time with my dad. [I hope you are OK]

[1:25pm]

Thursday, November 3, 2005

One day this will all be gone, everything we've built with our own hands. Smoke will rise from the ashes we created and then there will be nothing anymore. Nothing for anyone.

I feign understanding once again as the explanation is ran by me one more time. I know all of the words that are being said, but it seems like they're being told in the wrong order. I rearrange them in my mind until I create a picture that I like.

I went to visit a friend last night. All we did was drink cheap lager and Jack Daniels and played Bishi Bashi Special. If you don't know you won't understand. Today I'm planning on starting work on an essay. [I hope you are OK]

[11:58am]

Wednesday, November 2, 2005

Forgotten In The Flames

This girl rides her bicycle to the store again. She is not entirely sure how she will ever forget some of the things she knows but should not. She remembers her old room. Every single object and every single position they were initially in, and then every different layout she had given it. Posters went up, posters came down. Wallpaper was replaced, curtains also. This girl remembers the day she had a boy in that room for the first time. Her first kiss and nothing more. That boy had been a strange one. She remembers the time he was dragged out of his house at nine in the morning kicking and screaming. Then she remember that long period of loneliness she suffered. As this girl considers her reflection in the store window, she tries her hardest to forget anything, even the smallest thing. But still her memory resists and the vividest of images still dance behind her eyes. Every waking second was being clearly filmed by her mind, never to be deleted. Her parents called it a gift, but this girl now knows that there is a very thin line between gifts and curses. She slowly rides back home and locks herself in her room and keeps all of her lights switched off. But inevitably the sun will rise again and she will not be able to hide from the light. A tear stains this girl's pillow as suddenly the nightmares begin. Her waking nightmares, flames licking at all of the objects in her room, and of course the whole house was ablaze. She remembers cutting herself on the broken glass from her bedroom window as she landed on the cold ground outside. The sirens closing in on the area and the house slowly collapsing in on itself as the jets of water tickled at the blaze. And then this girl screams silently as thoughts of the next day begin to appear again. Two large binbags, that was what she wished they had been. That boy had gone crazy, had burnt four houses in the neighbourhood down. Did he know what he was doing? Apparently he had taken too many painkillers when he never knew he was allergic to antibiotics. He had died a long time ago, but the doctors never knew, or never said, why. Then, amidst these thoughts, this girl finally cried herself to sleep. She awoke, it was still dark. The feeling was still there, as were the memories. She needed something, anything to make her numb, even for a minute, a second. This girl rises from her bed and looks for something to help her forget. She ran ideas through her mind but only came up with one solution. And so, as the men in their red uniforms smashed down the door that's how they found her. This girl, lying charred amidst endless shards of glass. Somehow she seemed to have died peacefully.

I went to The White Room last night, hoping that I could DJ a little like I used to, but there were no DJs on. I was disappointed, but I'm not giving up hope, they must just have DJs on another night now. Thursday I think. Anyway, it was Garry's (one of my housemates) birthday yesterday, which is why I was out. We only had two pints each then left. We watched Homeward Bound when we got in. So many memories watching that film. [I hope you are OK]

[11:36am]

Tuesday, November 1, 2005

As each person walked through the door, I turned and twisted to get a better look at who was gracing our presence. All day and not one person I wanted or expected.

This chair is not set right for his back. He twists all the available knobs and turns all of the handles, but things just won't set right for him. He sighs and smashes his head through the TV screen.

My Monday's work is over and I can relax for a few days watching old episodes of Marion And Geoff. Rob Brydon is great. [I hope you are OK]

[11:32am]

Monday, October 31, 2005

The steps you need to take to shatter this man are simple and easy. One simple step, and it involves disappearing into the night, never to return.

When he tried to sum up his actions, all that came out was a string of words all tacked together in his mind. The sentences were mixed up and he suddenly realised that he was beaten.

I've spent money already. I've bought Badly Drawn Boy's latest two albums finally, The Streets' second album finally and Daft Punk's latest album finally. They were all under �5, and I got an extra pound off for no apparent reason. Bonus. [I hope you are OK]

[12:26pm]

Saturday, October 29, 2005

Everything turned black for a few seconds when I lay down in the grass. I'd noticed that the sky had begun to sway and pieces of it were falling, falling towards the ground. People did their best to avoid the shards, but it wasn't long before everything was covered in clouds.

Did he watch me or did I watch him? We spent all night trying to solve each other's mysteries, but to no avail. Sitting in the same room at the same time thinking the same thoughts. Perhaps it's time I tried to talk to someone about things like this.

One night of work down, one more afternoon and night to go. And at the end of it I will have �60. That might keep me going another week. [I hope you are OK]

[3:02pm]

Friday, October 28, 2005

I looked around desperately for hours and hours trying to find an oven, but to no avail. This town seems bereft of cooking apparatus. I sighed a deep sigh and made my way back to the shop, where a girl was asking if she could buy a one-bedroomed house for ten pounds.

He felt something tap his knee as he slept, and he immediately awoke with a barrage of swearing and contempt. When he saw that there was no-one there, he turned over grumbling and went back to sleep. But again came a tapping on his knee, the left one this time. Once again he awoke with a barrage of swearing and contempt. This time the offender was there, and he didn't seem happy about the man's words.

It's a good job it's Friday and my working weekend starts tonight, because I don't have much money left, and I don't want to dip into what tiny amount I have left in the bank. [I hope you are OK]

[10:49am]

Thursday, October 27, 2005

You know how to free yourself, you know how to be the person you've been trying to hide from. But it means burning everything you currently own, packing a few small things into a bag and wandering aimlessly for the rest of your life.

Wires tangle and pictures scramble. Kicking the set isn't going to work, losing your last few shreds of anger isn't going to fix things.

The Corpse Bride was brilliant. Flawless and pure Burton. Brilliant jokes and a typically odd and slightly eerie story. Definitely worth watching. [I hope you are OK]

[1:35pm]

Wednesday, October 26, 2005

Something has broken inside of the machine. Wires are fusing and our brains are slowly melting into the mush that we feared. Soon we won't even be able to help ourselves.

An explosion in the distance (the sound awakens everyone in the city). A rabble of people moving forward (everyone wonders what to do). Nothing left of the city but fear (and now where are we?).

I should be going to see The Corpse Bride today. At some point. Can't wait to see it, but I don't think it will be as good as Wallace and Gromit. Also, feel free to trespass. [I hope you are OK]

[12:01pm]

Tuesday, October 25, 2005

Slipping under the radar, he appears out of the darkness. Nothing can stop him now.

(the new ideas were never new)

Nothing happening today really. Will be going out for a drink, but that's all. [I hope you are OK]

[1:45pm]

Monday, October 24, 2005

There was definitely a shadow in front of me, I saw something flash across my eyeline. But after I take a second look, nothing new is revealed in the gloom ahead of me. I keep walking, every step sounding louder than the last. What if the thing that I had seen was listening to every echo my footstpes made? Listening to every breath I took? Listening to my heart beating faster and faster until I'm afraid it will burst? Then I get to my front door unharmed. And I feel the smallest amount of disappointment.

Some things were never meant to be known. Why people interfered and poked around is something that, however, can not be known. They found something else that we did not want to know, and we are all shaking in our basements.

American Dad (the new Seth McFarlane comedy) was pretty funny. Very bizarre, but what do we expect? Today the rain came in quite large amounts. It's stopped now, which is a shame. [I hope you are OK]

[2:50pm]

Saturday, October 22, 2005

Another unhealthy cough escapes from his chest, followed by blood again. This has ceased to scare him, it's been happening for months now and damned if he's dead yet. He tries to walk as far as his kitchen, but his legs give out long before he gets there. This is usual too. He's not scared, not scared at all.

Everybody just stands there, chatting away as usual. The blood has already got as far as their feet, and they just move further away from it, looking rather disgusted with the whole situation, but not horrified. The sirens start, and everybody moves away to buy themselves cups of coffee to drink from a polystyrene cup. The body is taken away.

A new series from Seth "Family Guy" McFarlane starts on BBC2 tonight. It's being aired on terrestrial TV before Family Guy, which says something about Family Guy I guess. Little bit too controversial for some channels to want. I'm sure Channel 4 will snap it up. Oh, and Wallace and Gromit was hilarious! [I hope you are OK]

[10:36am]

Friday, October 21, 2005

Tell me which way to turn in this maze made up of old branches and cobwebs. If I turn the wrong way, I could fall through this unstable floor and end up anywhere. Tell me which way to turn in this maze of insanity that I made for myself just two days ago.

Who can hear that sound? He can, you can tell by the look on his face. The internal working of the increasingly paranoid mind. He stands up and leaps from the nearest window, and we all continue clack-clack-clacking on our keyboards. There's a meeting at twelve, no time to sort out other people's problems.

The Corpse Bride is out today, but I don't want to risk spending much more of my money. I think I'm down to my last �100. Time for being thrifty methinks. [I hope you are OK]

[2:18pm]

Thursday, October 20, 2005

Tell yourself that everything is OK. Look into the mirror and smile reassuringly. Let yourself know that you can control your own life, even if the world around you is falling down.

Fierce winds blow strong and the branches tap tap tap on his window. He looks up and shakes his head. The stars outside the window swirl swirl swirl and he has to close his eyes. The tap tap tapping continues, and his paranoid thought take him over completely. He knows he's going mad mad mad.

Too much money is being spent by me. Even if it is being spent on lovely lovely things. [I hope you are OK]

[11:03am]

Wednesday, October 19, 2005

So then we escaped to another paradise. Once where the walls never closed in on us and the eyes of others never intruded upon our privacy. We never wanted to win anything, we just wanted to close our eyes and drift away to somewhere different.

Believe everything goes suddenly, yet tomorrow will leave everything gruesome. Everyone envies something.

I had a day of nothing today. Just a few drinks and some anime. [I hope you are OK]

[7:30pm]

Tuesday, October 18, 2005

The last time he talked to anyone he got the reply he didn't want. So since then, he has slowly been bricking himself up in his small terraced house. First one window disappeared, then another. Finally the doors were gone. And just like that, he disappeared too.

The sound is low at first, building slowly and slowly until it's unavoidable. With maddened eyes, he rips at the wallpaper and tears his fingernails off scratching at the bare plaster. The noise reaches it's peak and then, just when all the windows shatter and the heads begin to pop, it stops again.

I didn't think I was going to survive yesterday, I was practically falling asleep in every single lecture and seminar. I don't feel too good now either. Too much alcohol and inhaled things last night. And I'm going out tonight too. [I hope you are OK]

[2:34pm]

Monday, October 17, 2005

Life and the pursuit of happiness. Too much hard work for some people, more content living out their lives hoping for a miracle.

It's like the beating of a heart in an empty room. Or the breathing of somebody unknown in the street outside. Or the footsteps of a lost soul.

Back to uni, and I almost gave in to temptation. I nearly decided to miss my 1pm lecture, but my motivation has returned. Even though I never learn anything in that seminar, it's nice to know I'll have been. [I hope you are OK]

[12:30pm]

Saturday, October 15, 2005

Rectification of all my promises. How many were broken, and how many secrets were untold? People all have that other side, not just me. We are all equally flawed.

Through me people can see the daylight even in the rain. The strongest of gales could not move me. I stand here, the weathered rock that took everybody else's pain.

It's so nice being able to watch music television again. So many music videos I've been missing out on. [I hope you are OK]

[11:10am]

Friday, October 14, 2005

Despair In The Darkness

This boy takes a multitude of painkillers for no reason. In the back of his mind, he hopes that they can kill the pain of life. But all they do is make him drowsy and suddenly he is too afraid to fall asleep, scared of the shadows that dart across the room cast by his small but adequate television. So the hours tick by. Nine at night, he stares straight ahead woozily and watches his walls dance, he cannot keep his eyes in one place. So it is his pupils that are dancing and darting from one side of the room to the another as his mind toys with the idea of sending the entire body mad. He stands shakily and shifts his weight from one foot to another. This boy takes a few trial steps forward then stumbles over a box in the middle of the room. That object had not been there before. Just for a risky second, he closes his eyes and opens them to see that the box is still there. Ten at night, and he has tried and failed to get into the box. Locked up tight, but there doesn't even seem to be an opening. He picks up his glass and, holding onto the wall, traces steps towards the kitchen. He runs the cold water tap for exactly ten seconds before filling his glass. To him, drinking water that has been running for that long is like drinking iced water. When he returns to his room, this boy drops his glass. As it shatters on the floor, the small creature that has emerged from the box jumps nervously. It scampers up the wall and takes residence on the ceiling. It looks down on this boy, and begins to talk. It tells him everything about his life and why he feels so alone at night. It tells him why everything seems to fit but him. And it all makes sense. Every word that falls on his ears draws him closer to the meaning of his life and the end of it. And as insanity slowly begins to close in on him at eleven at night, the creature disappears and the box becomes sealed once again. This boy stares at the floor, and feels the fire and brimstone flowing through his veins. He understands now that life is inescapable, and ultimately inevitable. This is how life and life and death converge on the same line, until being able to distinguish between the two is impossible. So this boy implores the darkness to come, filled with the rage of the damned and the lost. His small but adequate television hisses then implodes and the lightbulb shatters, along with every other bulb in his house. Darkness has arrived, and this boy screams louder and louder as he sinks further and further downwards into the truth, before disappearing completely. This boy rises from his bed and rubs his eyes. Curtains are still open. Nine in the morning. Television quietly humming to itself and light left on. This boy is aware of a dream, but is desperately unable to remember anything but darkness. The fear of eternal darkness hits him, and he shudders as he picks up his glass of still cold water.

I slept a lot last night after returning home, and then I drank some more. I may still be drunk now. I'm going home tonight, work calls. Which is a good thing considering how much money I've spent this week. [I hope you are OK]

[11:33am]

Thursday, October 13, 2005

Forgive me, I haVe sinned against you all. I have forsaken you by not leaving you something you expect. I try my best to give you everything you want, but I guess I'm far from perfect.

And now you se mre as I really am. Mistakes and all, you can viewn mre as I'mmeant to be. Far from tis spleiiling obsessed boy, but I am. I sit here achoin g to correct m sikskates but I canno. You must see me assd I canbe,

As you can proably tell, I am slightly drunk, hence the non-editing of some mistakes. I have spent the last few days at my friend's house in Newcastle, hence the lack of updates. I am fine, but very drunk. [I hope you are OK]

[6:19pm]

Tuesday, October 11, 2005

A message to all my beloved fans: don't wait up for me to come knocking at your front door. Don't expect a good morning over the phone especially from me. Don't think about turning up to see me performing and expecting me to notice you. You're all and one, but you are also many. Just come along and enjoy the show.

The sun beats down, magnifies itself through the window and burns my back. I crouch down in the middle of the room for a while to avoid the glare, but as time dictates, the sun's beams slowly reached me again. The inevitabilities of life.

I have acquired a new phone finally. Also I have acquired Tombi, a game where every time you acquire an item, it tells you that you have acquired it. Hence the excessive use of the word here. I also received the white disc version of Street Spirit and the 12" singles for No Surprises and Anyone Can Play Guitar. This may have been expensive, but it was worth it. Now to avoid eBay for the next few months. [I hope you are OK]

[9:43am]

Monday, October 10, 2005

With no time to think about anything in the near future, he ran straight for the door. One sharp pain in the back and then he was on his knees. And to think he had booked a table for two that very night. This was just his luck. Then the unluckiest man in the world died.

Their gaze is met evenly by mine. I could stare them down all night, but there isn't time for that. With a smooth movement, I refill my glass and take a long, soothing gulp of the wine. This isn't like the cheap stuff I usually buy, this is wine fit for a king. They do continue to stare, but most of them have either lost interest or have dropped their defences.

I may have spent an unbelievable amount of money on eBay, and so I have decided to drag myself away from it for a while after all of my current bids have ended. I don't feel great today, my stomach is declining to help me out with reasons why, so I slump. Also, I have no access to a working phone at the minute, so forgive me if I don't text you. I hope to have a new one by the end of the day. [I hope you are OK]

[12:00pm]

Saturday, October 8, 2005

Senses are dulled by the moon and the mood. Whatever he is drinking is not helping him to walk in a straight line. He stares at the bottle for a while, with a rising pain in his stomach. Perhaps it was time for another glass to soothe the pain.

This isn't blood that runs through my veins anymore, it's pure fire, pure hatred towards the things holding me back. But then I realise that I am the one holding myself back. My blood cools and I rethink my situation.

Last night was interesting. I got �25 from my mum. �5 of it was from an uncle, but the �20 was from her. And she bought me two bottles of wine and a bottle of gin. And she's buying me tickets to see The Coral. I think I'm on to a winner here. I'm at work tonight, always fun, meet great people at the cricket club sometimes. I just hope I feel better by then, I've had a fair share of alcohol in the last 12 hours. [I hope you are OK]

[10:06am]

Friday, October 7, 2005

Every minute that ticks by is wasted. Sitting in that chair from sunrise to sundown, and then retiring to a lonely bed. This is no life for someone who was once so active.

Lights are blinking in my eyes, reflecting the sounds that are made by my heart. I open my chest and find that I am indeed malfunctioning. How inconvenient.

I've spent a large chunk of my loan already. I've paid my rent money. Plus I had a drink last night, but I only spent �4. Not bad for how much I had to drink. Also I won a very nice little Radiohead vinyl on eBay, clear disc of Street Spirit. For ten pounds. I think eBay will end me. Back to Bishop today, for a weekend of insanity. [I hope you are OK]

[9:26am]

Thursday, October 6, 2005

Comfort In The Colours

This woman tries to remember her last holiay. The three-star hotel and the little packets of salt that were delivered with each meal. Those subtle intricities that crawled between every sentence of broken language that she uttered. Of course, she had never expected the building to collapse around her. She had longed to own one of the paintings that hung in the hallway of the fourth floor, her floor. She remembered everything at once, as vivid a memory as she had ever had. That low rumbling, the sound of a thousand tonnes of water running underground, washing all the made-from-dirt foundation away. This woman remembers looking out of her window and seeing all of the outside world sawying from side to side. Being partial to a glass of champagne, she had first decided that the aforementioned drink had gone straight to her head, and resolved to wait until after lunch before drinking again. Then all thoughts dissolved as cracks began to appear on the walls and screams began echoing down the suddenly packed hallways. Another strong shudder forced her to her knees, and with a few tears forming she crawled towards the door of that now-fated room, number 42. The hallway of the fourth floor had become a mass of bodies, people from so many background fleeing for the same reason as everybody else. Then that delightful picture caught her eye again, as it had four mornings in a row so far. The colours made the gloomy, clinical corridors of the hallway seem to glow. Reds greens and blues all used so professionally. Yet it had been painted out of gratitude by a former guest. This woman was suddenly jostled out of the way by a man, someone she had been exchanging pleasantries with not twelve hours earlier. Then she realised that somehow, whilst absorbed with the picture, she had taken a few steps forward into the hallway towards her treasured obsession. The bone-chilling sound of crumbling ceilings came from above, mixed with a constant screaming and the raining of masonry. All in all, it was a cacophony that this woman had never heard the like of before or since. Her senses took over, and she began to make for the fire escape. But a few steps away from it, her legs became wooden and she turned once again to that damnable tempting object of pure beauty. Now where are we? She cannot remember how many years ago this was anymore, the situation had led her to lose large portions of her already fragile memory and mind. She can remember nothing after the ceilings did finally give in. All she can remember is colours now. The red that saved her, the white she had to lie down in for a while and the greens, browns, blues and greys of the outside world. Now there was nothing but colours. No sound and no smell. And as she sits and sinks into the deep brown shape in the corner of the white place where she lives, she surveys the reds greens blues that were all used so professionally.

My loan money has finally arrived. Finally. Also, on top of this story, there is the opportunity for you to trespass... hurry though, the gate will be closed soon. [I hope you are OK]

[11:09am]

Wednesday, October 5, 2005

We're all begging to be led by someone. We remember words, words about revolution and words about freedom but now those words are shredded into cries of triumph as the victory is sealed.

Now the speakers start blaring out a sound that I wasn't listening to before. Everybody suffers the same problem, as broadcasts between one and another are heard all around the world. We tune in and listen to how others have already decided our fate.

Still no loan money, situatoin is becoming desperate now. I only have 1p on my phone after accidentally phoning while the phone was in my pocket again. Damn. The Bandwagon Tour was good, but nothing to really shout about. It started with The Motorettes, since The Kooks couldn't play due to the loss of a close friend. Anyway, The Motorettes were OK, some of the songs were a bit samey and they didn't really play anything spectacular. Viva Voce were a very challenging listen, it was hard to grasp the sounds they were producing. But there were some tunes behind the veil of confusion. It didn't help that the mics weren't at their best. Then The Departure strolled on and everything seemed to change. People started jumping and screaming, and then the songs started. The crowd started out slowly, then the bouncing and pushing grew at an alarming rate. By the end, nobody was stood where they had started. And I had to miss Clor, because the time was ebbing closer to the last Metro. But all in all, it was a good night. [I hope you are OK]

[11:51am]

Tuesday, October 4, 2005

The minute those patterns start to swirl and fade from the wallpaper, the curtains, the carpet and the rug is the minute you must rethink everything you thought was true about the reality you believed in.

Everything you do could be the last thing you do. The danger is even more extreme when facing newer technological advances. Cars cause so many deaths a year, and still people are careless. Steel goliaths have no place in my mind.

And still no loan money. I'm becoming less and less amused by the day. But I need to think positive, I'm going to the mtv2 Bandwagon Tour gig tonight with the last of my money going on Metro fares. But it'll be worth it to see Clor, The Kooks and The Departure. To be honest, The Departure are the ones I really want to see, but the others are worth a look I guess. Expect a review of sorts tomorrow. [I hope you are OK]

[10:59am]

Monday, October 3, 2005

After the four days he spent drinking, he spent the following two days contemplating just what he had achieved over the last year. He looked back and tried to remember anything through the haze. But all he got back were solid black walls and answers that led to madness.

Natural and healthy, just like everybody else. Clean-shaven, no qualms with the outisde world. Just a little cynicism now and again. A little bit of doubt never hurt anyone. Pressing buttons and clacking at keys all day at a desk is a healthy and safe career option. Smile for the camera.

Art Brut were fantastic on Saturday. Really got the crowd going and played an amazing set. The place they played, The Other Rooms, was tiny. It was a pub venue. A posh one though, where lager didn't flow cheaply. �2.90 per pint of Stella. But all in all, the gig was fantastic. Still no sign of my loan cheque, which is a shame as I'm planning a UK tour that spans Hull and Preston. One day. [I hope you are OK]

[2:58pm]

Saturday, October 1, 2005

Another coil is unwound too far and snaps, sending shards in all directions. You push too hard for an answer, you can only get hurt. But still you unwind more and more coils, more than one at a time. You must be asking too much of everyone.

All the people stare at you again, and you realise that you must have done it again. A momentary lapse of concentration, a blackout, waking up to find the most bizarre of scenes. Why does this only happen to you?

The gig last night was what I would call a life-changing one. Every band that played was a good example of how much fine music is lying around untouched at the moment. The first band up, The Cinematics, played feisty Franz-infused melodies whilst oozing charisma from every chord. They deserve to be massive. As for We Are Scientists, well they've had a bit of press lately, if nont only for their new single 'The Great Escape', then purely for the screaming girl fanbase they've already acquired. Keith Murray and Chris Cain form a unique frenetic partnership and every song went down a storm with the audience. Riffs to make you bounce without realising it. Consider me converted to their way. But as always, the band of the night was going to be Editors, with their woeful yet energetic set. Right through from Bullets to the classy B-side Let Your Good Heart Lead You Home, they captivated the audience. They're all the tunes you've heard but so much more. Tom Smith has been called gloomy in the past, and his songs may seem to convey that, and on stage he thrashes and fights with his guitar as if it was holding all of his demons. But beyond that, you can see a cheeky and worldwise grin, and then you realise that he knows exactly what he's doing, and he does it well. [I hope you are OK]

[10:03am]

Friday, September 30, 2005

Solutions In The Shadows

There's a choir, and listen to the voices sing! The roof seems to be getting further and further away as this man lies on the floor, the chemicals slowly working their way through his body. In the newspaper, some of the small ads have been circled. He had been looking for many things. A collection of cat-related ornaments, a record player complete with speakers and dual tape deck, three decorative plates, a three-piece suite, an ancietn TV set. Anything to remind him of how life used to be. Now look as the lights go out again, the third power cut this week. This mans eyes open, slightly glazed. The loss of light has left him with nothing to focus on. But still the choir sings, different words but those same heavenly tones. Still those voices! This man sits up and begins to preach to himself, reinventing his old philosophies again and again. Old habits die hard, but new ones are even harder to kill. Smoke fills the room now, and this man remembers scenes long forgotten. People surrounding a tiny television screen, the lights low and the volume likewise. Hazy atmosphere, two people asleep, possibly not breathing. A fly disrupts his thoughts by brushing past his ear. He flinches and jumps up unsteadily. What day was it? What time? Back to thoughts, back to these petty small thoughts. Thoughts of time are irrelevant, it is forever accelerating. There is no such thing as a fixed time, in a second it is gone. The hands of clocks are forever waving farewell. The darkness is suddenly upon him, all at once. He screams once, quietly, as he feels the cold hands of the shadows torture him cruelly. This man is surprised at how quickly the darkness appeared. One second, eyes accustomed to the new lower level of light, the next was a sudden blackening of the atmosphere as well as of the room. He always had trouble pronouncing certain words with authority, which was why his revolution of words had failed him. It was a perculiar thing, his train of thought. Leaping from one ludicrous idea to the next. He jotted down some of his minds' workings to gaze upon when he awoke, but in the morning he could not understand what he had written in the darkness of the previous night. So this man, being still slightly sound of mind, thought that his solution was simple: write during the daytime. He sat with his pen shaking above the page one time upon the stroke of midday, and found that the light dulled his senses and his mind. No words could be written, and no thoughts could be thought. There was to be no smell of ink and no stained pages in his journal. So he had retired into the kitchen and retrieved his bottle-opener, a bottle of his finest wine and a carving knife. Halfway through his final glass, the power had snapped off and he had found himself upon the floor. And here we are, now. The electricity once again surged through every wire in the house and every light came back to life. And this man found himself staring at a multitude of full pages, all of which finally made sense.

On top of this huge story I have gifted you with today, there will be the opportunity to trespass through my open gates again soon. But not quite yet. I go to see Editors tonight. The anticipation is slowly building. [I hope you are OK]

[1:07pm]

Thursday, September 29, 2005

A choir is the only clue. There will be more on that subject in the future. Listen to the voices! All of them merging and becoming one huge drone of heavenly sounds.

Grasp on to the bannister and stop yourself slipping again. Red trickles down your face and you slowly reach for your head. Yes, there is a gash. Time to go lie back down for a while, drinking water by the gallon and holding your breath.

Excel Saga is, allegedly (I say allegedly because I don't trust Royal Mail) heading back towards Canterbury. Thanks to a mix-up with addresses, I had to deal with a security guard at the end of his tether (possibly the end of his shift too) and a delivery office worker who was helpful but turned up nothing. So no Excel Saga for a while again. But never mind. All I have left to say is go play your life away. [I hope you are OK]

[11:58am]

Wednesday, September 28, 2005

Biting fingernails until you reach bone. Blood drips from your fingers and hits the floor. Every drop leads you closer to madness.

Feverish and delirious, he lies on the bed. The sheets soaked with sweat, and the lamp by his bed has a bulb that is dimming. As that light fades, so does another.

Only Wednesday. I have nothing to do until Friday. And I have no alcohol either. [I hope you are OK]

[12:30pm]

Tuesday, September 27, 2005

numbers, patterns, repetition, reoccurent structures, ungrammatical, internal contrasts (content and presentation).
choice of words, what effect does all of this have on the meaning?
Formal, intimate text? Premodification, noun phrases, post-modification.
Verb phrases- past and present- to create layers of time.
Auxiliary verbs, complex, compound verbs.

Yet to truly realise the underlined facts, you must first choose between right and wrong. The information you hold will change dramatically over the next few years of your life.

I am once again a university student. First year. But this time I will work will a feverish determination and pass these modules. If only to prove to myself that I can do this. [I hope you are OK]

[11:35am]

Monday, September 26, 2005

The way things are written can change the way they are perceived. Suddenly things become clear, and you only had to write the same information six times before it became recognisable.

When things turn blue your vision becomes impaired. Staring at things for long enough does not make them easier to understand.

I just spent ten minutes trying to change my password so I could log on to the system. I'd forgotten how hard it is to convince the computer who it is you are. I had to put my date of birth in at least ten different ways before I changed my password properly. Only half an hour from seeing my tutor. I hope things turn out well. [I hope you are OK]

[3:27pm]

Sunday, September 25, 2005

Nobody really cares anymore, you can look around for the solution but people will never help you As much as you want them to.

Suddenly the darkness fell and you didn�t know which way to turn. The eyes looked at you from behind the wall but they didn�t offer you any help.

One day from seeing my tutor, and I�m wondering what it is he�s going to advise. [I hope you are OK]

[6:16pm]

Friday, September 23, 2005

There was only one leak at first, but soon the dams were bursting their banks and towns were being buried under tonnes of water. Then the earth raised itself up and topped everything off with excess heat. And finally the sky itself fell, and now look at our smouldering planet.

While you were talking, he'd slipped out the back door. He found himself in a dark alleyway, which he trod down carefully, not seeing street lights at either end of the pathway. He is still walking now, perpetually stuck in that darkness.

Still no sign of Excel Saga. And today I go back to uni. Looks like I won't get to hold the series in my hands before I go. I may just never hold it in my hands ever again. [I hope you are OK]

[10:09am]

Thursday, September 22, 2005

They called him engaging, said that they all held on to his every word whilst he was up there in front of them. Said that he had a way with words, was a genius. But with intelligence and wordsmanship comes unhappiness and a deep loathing of the world.

They tipped it all over. Tipped the trucks, tipped the police vans and tipped the buildings. The world has been flipped and spun around and now we're all dizzy and falling down.

I received an email from my good old friend Barry Lewis at the university telling me his office hours. They're the same as last year. I hope he can give me some good advice again, because I need some. [I hope you are OK]

[10:37am]

Wednesday, September 21, 2005

The black surfaces call out to me, they catch the corner of my eye. I hover over to them and feel their coldness, their ability to suck in all colour. Never reflecting.

Critics are not the backbone of anything. Things don't need to be put down or lifted up, the public decide what's right and wrong, and mass agreement must count for something.

Still no sign of Excel Saga. Have I been lied to? Or is the postal service being decidedly slow? [I hope you are OK]

[10:05am]

Tuesday, September 20, 2005

I keep a tally of my mistakes. I make a notch on my wall every time I tell a lie. I scratch my name into whatever I can find, scrawling my meaningless words onto those surfaces. People will forget me.

Just another life, another person who stopped moving. Like flesh and bone filled robots, we continue with no purpose, no aims. We achieve everything through money.

The package that was delivered last Friday was not Excel Saga, it was Amnesiac on vinyl. Lovely and beautiful as that is, I want Excel Saga back too. I'm getting worried. Also for the first time in weeks, feel free to Trespass. [I hope you are OK]

[10:21am]

Monday, September 19, 2005

I made sure that the curtains were shut securely. I need my privacy from all those prying eyes. All wanting to know what I'm up to, they've always been suspicious. Then I get to work, building my contraption.

More letters arriving that aren't for me. I sit and flip through the envelopes. All these Mr's and Mrs's that I've never heard of. How can so many letters be delivered to one address? I get curious now and again, and rip open a letter or two. But I never see anything interesting.

Today I don't have much of a plan, but I'm excited about the day's prospects nontheless. [I hope you are OK]

[10:06am]

Saturday, September 17, 2005

The wire coiled slowly around the back of the television and disappeared from sight. I followed it round, to see that it led to a hole in the floor. Intrigued, I pulled everything away and took a closer look. Now I need round the clock supervision.

Paper was sliding off all the shelves. My carefully organised system lay in tatters in front of me. I pick all the pieces up frantically, trying my best to get them back to where they belong. But this is too big a task for me when I've only had four hours sleep.

I received the Best of Blur DVD today. Can't wait to sit and watch and remember different times. Also Excel Saga is back to me in full, and the craziness can begin all over again. I'm heading back to Newcastle soon, as I left my keys at my friend's house. Sounds like a good excuse to drink more if you ask me. [I hope you are OK]

[2:13pm]

Friday, September 16, 2005

Chains are made to be snapped, promises are made to be broken, ties are made to be cut and bonds are made to be loosened. The people who know this much must know more than we think.

I listlessly sit in front of the static television, swirling the remains of my drink around in the glass. Someday I will stop repeating the past, and the solution to my problems will come to me. I'm just waiting here for it, in front of my static television.

I didn't go pubwards after all. It was a case of go out and spend a lot of money, or stay in and drink the remnants of my whisky. I chose the latter, obviously. I bought The Fiery Furnaces' EP yesterday. It is such a good record. It's a crime that Arcade Fire are massive and these guys aren't. A crime I tell you. I also bought a Japanese film called The Happiness of the Katakuris, which may well be the oddest thing I've ever seen. A horror musical, to be exact. And to top it off, I bought a collection of rare incidental music from Dawn of the Dead. Which is most brilliant. [I hope you are OK]

[12:36pm]

Thursday, September 15, 2005

Dots are marked everywhere on the wall. I follow them around with my eyes, trying to form a pattern. But they are truly random, there are no links between them. The only similarity is that they are all the same in size, and one of two of them have red splatters around them.

Why did the world stop spinning? The moon is stuck up there in the sky, begging to move. The sun looms on the horizon, forever peering over the hills. I sit down and contemplate the mystery.

I think I'm going pubwards tonight. Even though I've refused to go to The Ivy House for so long because it's too damned expensive. But I guess I need to let loose once in a while. [I hope you are OK]

[12:41pm]

Wednesday, September 14, 2005

Bursting at the seams, the walls are bulging. And with a sigh, everything finally escapes, flooding the street outside and causing much disturbance to the traffic passing-by.

There are holes in the ceiling again. All night long being visited by the things that flutter, fly and fall th