westid

the higher you get, the harder you fall. a very bread and butter fact of life. the only clue you can get is in the eyes – they will tell you whether or not the person you’re looking at is one of us. don’t let that fool you though, one of us can be just as much of a cunt as anyone else. the only difference when that’s the case is the arsenal of shit at their disposal. you can weaponise any person if you fill their head full of said… and then point them in the direction of someone you hate

i’ve been to hell and back. the flames all around me, the disasterous ashes chasm of the man inside my mind handling all of the controls, fed by various archaic apparatus, the radiation from VGA monitors. the squaring of eyes.

it’s always like i’m running out of time. i wish it was night time forever, but i’m still afraid of the dark. most people are, that’s why only disappointment in life alone never usually ends it – causes you to overlook the fact that there will not be any consequences of your actions if you die in the process. only america could find a way to sensationalise every little thing – and it’s such that no matter where you are in the world, you are constantly being fed updates on what’s happening there all of the time. i don’t need someone to come and make a point in the hope that i will see it. i’m not looking for hints or making my own. what does that mean? what does this mean? sooner or later that mystery becomes redundant. exasperated sigh … it doesn’t mean anything

this stuff got right on top of me. proper straightened me out. fortunately, there are only a handful of people in this world who can make me feel like that. otherwise i try, but i’m annoyed because someone told me that i’m supposed to be, presumed their presence would so make me. but so it didn’t make, i wish you could see yourselves from the eyes of someone who can’t remember your name, your face, the things that amount to acknowledgement that you even exist. what you would realise is that who you are is difficult enough to interpret – let alone the point you are trying to make. and people make these sort-of arrogant gestures on the premise that them being happy will equate to my misery all the time. sometimes i notice someone trying to make a point – but, sorry to disappoint, i’m not usually paying enough attention to notice exactly what that is

trouble in paradise wouldn’t be in paradise without a bit of theo thrown in to the mix. we’re not stringing him up, simply handing him the rope – because sooner or later he will do it to himself. truth be told i can’t explain why i did it, but every now and again when there’s no way out i will probably take a dive

you want me to keep him there, but i won’t. the trouble with theo is he’s not my problem, so it’s not going to be me ending up having to reel him back in. with arms outstretched, i protect this place. effigies of death itself watch over him while he sleeps. even though he never actually sleeps

you could make a film about what’s happened since friday – and it still wouldn’t feel realistic. i know your pattern now, though. so when it comes down to giving you the satisfaction, i did nothing wrong so consider this theo another tease and deny. i prefer tease and deny over bait and switch. there’s just something more natural about it all

the reality is that these anti-subtle passive aggressive hints of “look @ me livin ma best lyf” are merely a projection of the fact that my happiness somehow hurts you, so you try to look as happy as you can in vain hope that it will hurt me the same way it creates some kind of egotistical problem for you

i love the odd game of tit for tat, but really could not give a shit if you’re enjoying yourself based on how much misery you think i’m going through. actually no, i’m happy for you, because believe it or not i’m not some narcissistic wanker who needs to put my happiness in everyone’s cunty face just to trivialise their trials, tribulations, and woe. i am a bit of a wanker myself though

everything hurts. i’ve got bruises all over my body from when it took twelve [i counted] people to wrestle me to the ground from the failed escape attempts. if you think karma is gonna fuck me up real bad, you’re probably right, BUT … i’ve paid more than my fair share of penance, because i’m just a man trying to get by in your contrived, superficial, potemkin village little world. equally as susceptible to the ridiculously high expectations of others as you would be. you don’t need to wait for what goes around, back to me, comes around. it’s already come around – my loyal fans – and now i want out

still, that place i go to in my sleep. a freedom that you never took from me. there are people there just like you, but it’s different. sleep is just a function that enables me to be there, but for the brief amount of time i’ve experienced it – it was the most amazing thing that i have ever felt in my life. so, why not pick a side? there’s a strong likelihood that this place can only exist in my mind rather than the “other place” in which i perceive myself to be. therefore death wouldn’t just get me out of this existence, but destroy the other one as well. you can see my dilemma

eyelids abrasive. a groan. yield. no malice aforethought. no double entendre peripheral epiphany. no sleep for the clockwork man, cogs and springs flying out of him. in forty-two minutes completely gone from this world, and brought back to rise again. no rest for the wicked. no educated reprise for the wise. just darkness

it’s inevitable. but we live life as though it’s impractical. so the conclusion you make is impossible. but the meter’s still running. the pendulum’s still swinging. the hourglass is pouring. and alongside the obvious metaphor of the sands of time, those hands on the clock will keep turning

i may have climbed a fucking long way since i truly hit the bottom- but for every rung i reach, i am filling in behind me. i could die from climbing, but it sure as fuck won’t be from falling.