westid

empty streets, no markings, no lights. no signal, no ambient noise, ambivalent nights. two left, one left, what am i going to do with my hands all day? an extra day, a working day. a way that type of a day is never the known nomenclature of a good time. £60,000 starting, SQL database linux server. things i do for entertainment because apparently the skills shortage seems to revolve around fear of the command line. like mathematics as soon as i see that capital sigma nah fuck that m8 sinabit

fall asleep have a dream it’s some kind of sulzer loom just smoke cigarette sit there watching a machine. repetitive movements, nothing ever goes wrong but it’s just like being at work only none of it’s real and there are no break times but i get to smoke as much cigarette as i want. i miss working nights, living daily completely against the grain of how our species is supposed to exist. i love it

the other week i woke up and i was standing in the middle of my front room. don’t know how long i had been standing there, how i got there. no one believes me, or understands just how frightening and confusing it is. there’s this thing that’s supposed to lock you in place until you wake up, it’s like this barrier and it’s made out of raw fear. not afraid of anything it doesn’t make logical sense but it’s not supposed to – it’s just supposed to stop you from moving. but you can push through it, you can defy it, if you try really really hard. some people have something called sleep paralysis – it’s basically when you wake up but this fear barrier stays in place so you can’t move, but you’re awake so you can feel the raw fear … that’s when it proper hits you. you can’t even call for help

i don’t understand anyone but when someone’s in pain and i have it in me to go easy on someone, i’d appreciate it if our roles were reversed – then i’ll stay up all night watching only the first half of full metal jacket, or only got so far as the first bit before they leave easter island where i passed out. the relatable bit though – this overwhelming psychological effect that happens when a comprehensive body of people all turn against you all of a sudden all at the same time. the first few seconds private pyle wakes up before he realises what’s happening to him, or how much pain he is so abruptly in. in my astute but very humble opinion, he spares private joker because he knows that …. even though joker twats the fuck out of him the most …. he tried and he tried to help him as much as he could first

“do it! ….. do it! … ” how many times would you do it?

either i’m beyond help, because i don’t know any better … or i’m this maligned guy who is out to get everyone [never know the objective it’s meant to serve … ] – it doesn’t matter anyway, because the prevailing verdict about this changes depending on what’s more convenient

what can i say? we all want the same things? no we don’t, though. i’m not out to get anyone, and FYI i try real hard against instincts what’s been said and done everything … that there must be some other reason no one would just be out to get me

there’s this one person sometimes when we see one another, they have this smirk and as soon as i see it, i get it though – because sometimes yeah … and i just can’t take myself seriously. sometimes they’re reight about it i notice they’re giving me the chance to go on by, but one day all of a sudden i couldn’t help it – proper lenient but i said hiya anyway. apparently no one likes me having long hair it’s doing nothing for me at all, and i don’t even have a straight answer about why i started growing it i just did. but that one moment that turns what is otherwise a complete fuckin gauntlet for me at least, into i remember how much i have laughed, parodied, contributed to; the ridicule of the life going on all around me. not carrying a torch or any shit like that, but one smirk can fuckin make or break your fuckin day just sets the standard for the rest of it

all these partition walls, compartmentalising my individual connection with every single person; they were just walls, and as soon as i couldn’t carry on without my problems getting in the way i will never make someone choose, if i can’t get past something like fig. 1: your best mate is getting married to this girl and every lad who knows you’re the man to go to if owt needs to be said: “she’s going to hurt him bad you need to get the message through” she’s crushing you under the table like you’re gone the moment i get in his head enough …. but you see your mate and he’s happy and apart from the shade you’re getting, he’s getting all the happiness his loyalty and courage and respect deserves the only one with the problem is you

fig 2. this guy would walk home from rawtenstall to fucking great harwood sometimes 3, 4 nights a week because your company is all he wants what do you do?

i’ve lost everything so many times and so many different definitions of “everything” did i lose it or did i just give it away because i will never put myself on someone else and the more they matter to me the harder it is to face them when i know they never made me choose, they made their choice and itr was fucking solid

“at midnight, on the 12th of august, a huge mass of luminous gas erupted from mars and sped towards earth” every year it gets me. every time i realise all over again i know someone who can clean up off the break like he can recite richard burton with perfect timing and meter

when you’re on someone’s mind you dream about each other. you want to have the sweetest dream you ever had? take a thought with you to sleep, you only get to smuggle one on board so make it a good one. then whatever it is, ride that thought into the dawn chorus and you will flush all this astral projection shit all the way into the groundwater. that’s how it works, i know i was there. no matter what or where or who – when you both occur, whatever it is, you won’t have any worldly proof other than your vague memories of it. but that good feeling i won’t need to explain to you if you feel it? connection established.

maybe i’m an insane man talking nonsense into his own computer, because no one knows how to tell me what i want to hear like i can. maybe a few months ago when these two lads at school who used to take the piss out of me were reminiscing … and i kept finding them for just this unexpected couple of weeks, i spent one day thinking what would i say / do with them if we saw one another again? and to my surprise it occurred to me that night, we had a proper good chat … i’m not saying anything i’m fast asleep, but the morning after that everything felt better and then they were gone. there isn’t any other point / meaning / purpose of dreaming. it’s the most pointless waste of time and effort and it robs you of this massive section of your entire life a complete write-off you were laying in bed motionless and unconscious. so i reckon it’s as simple as that

there you go, a west philosophy with westid in the head.

sweet dreams xoxo