Thursday, 28 October 2010

I used to be able to write in full sentences

I wrote an essay about how much being sad is funny. It was generally well received and was so clever I now can't understand any of the technical stuff in it. I consider this a success on the level of a scientist being eaten by her own mutant, miscarried child after using her forbidden science to re-create the life that was so cruelly stolen from her.

Just like that.


Oh, and here's pictures for sad children, whom I stole from.

Tuesday, 12 October 2010


That was a draft. I do drafts now, apparently.

Drafting = I'd like to get to know it better.

Wanna draft?

He was yellow and I loved him

I found him on the stove
He let me hold him

I made him a house
I gave him a bath
And then he broke his neck on the bars

We were going to talk to each other
We were going to be best friends
We were going to grow old and laugh Hah look at all those others that try to be like us

He was going to live in my room and watch out for me
I would be delightfully incompetent and doting
He would be responsible and loud- Stretch tall and tell us what we should know. Ta tweet. Hah they should stay away.

I would hold you and you would twitter
Oh how silly you are how silly I am
I would smile and enjoy my part

We were going to be best friends but you broke your neck on a bar

I'll miss him but I'll miss the story more

Sunday, 10 October 2010

Two hands and a body

Enjoy the smell of clean hands and soap;
(always wash the back of your hand. i read that on a poster in a hospital)
Don't just knock on wood. Knock on everything;
No two walls are the same, and they tell you so much;
Talk to your cats and birds and stuff, they may have feelings too;
Always pretend you're driving the bus;
Always count down from 5 when you are waiting;
Always always feel it.

A year to this day! Minus 2 months and a pocket full of days

Updates. Yes. That sounds like a good idea. I may even transcribe some of the dribblings that have dropped out in the last year. After all, I'll only loose them.

Wednesday, 16 December 2009


a povel


Their breath smells like must; dust makes me gag; I have to stand too close; her hair smells like chutney; a distinct smell of hammers; they rub against me; “Why don't you look at me when we make love”; imagining them all naked makes the smell of sweat seem cleaner; they smell like food; do I smell like toast?; he eats tea for every meal; he eats coffee; if we were naked this wouldn't be so awkward:

Something is vibrating my tree; I can seeeeee vibrations; my hands are dead, just let them typetypetypetype until they stop; stop dead; stop being dead; mostly stop dead a few times and then wander to youtube; men are better than toddlers are better than paedogeddon are better than onions are better than real people; I made an infinite, pardon me:

Say “excuse me”; will you excuse me?; they never excuse me, they just want a token to keep:

Passing out on buses because they rock me; “rock me” (to be said in an Austrian accent); please help me rock you; it would be so easy to sleep if you didn't have to worry about dropping things; my feet are sticky but I don't mind putting my bag on the floor? That goes on my lap; double standards:

One hour equals £5; does size factor into the equation?; 5/(1010 cubic inches) is not correct; do you factor in empty space covered by product?; what about electricity bills?; we should all play cards by any equation:

If they were all zombies this would be easier:

He says they were looking at us funny, all I saw were people; foxes see in black and white, maybe I do too; if I was a fox I would move to the country but not too far from a village, because I couldn't kill a pheasant, much less catch it; I saw a pheasant run away from me once, it looked like it fell out of a tree, only backwards:

When I walk into dark rooms alone I imagine there might be a body there and it will traumatise me and give me a phobia of walking into rooms alone; a neurosis isn't a phobia, no matter what people tell you; I am only occasionally scared of spiders; I need to talk to them, if we just ran in opposite directions this would be easier:

This could be easier:

Some days it's just hard to walk down the street and not kill someone; target permanent; the ability to cover everything is underestimated; everything includes yourself, people always forget that; I'm everything sometimes, when I walk down the street and sing to myself and the world, we're best friends in an abusive relationship; it's no-one's fault, we share the burden, but I swear he's seeing other people:

It would be easier if it was ok to take your duvet everywhere you went, then people wouldn't be able to find me:

Don't believe what they say, the earth is mostly just rock; my rock is billions of years old but I don't feel awed, I'm that old too and I can at least talk about it; my cat remembers being a tiger; sometimes I am a monkey again, and then I get hunted, but they are more scared of me than I am of them:

People are so polite when you kick them; being grumpy makes people like you; can I appreciate things while I have them please? The build up is so much better; I am in a constant state of missing something; people tell me I smell like hammers: that's a lie, I made that up, it's just a bit of legerdemain, some prestidigitation.