Wednesday, 27 May 2009

face your fear

I have a copy of Richard Yates' "The Easter Parade". I am so excited in regards to reading it that I am not reading it. Read, goddamnit.

Thing are happening at a pace which is half glacial, half extreme. Is that even possible? We have life-related plans but no solid things. We have one month to find an apartment in Manchester. Then, we have at least six months of solid, hardcore working to afford to live there. We is "my future housemates and I". I am not used to hardcore work. I did a few twelve hour shifts in a bar and it hurt. The real world is mainly terrifying. I'm worried I will run out of money or not find a job and have to crawl back home to my parents. Literally crawl. Because I will not be able to afford the train fare home. On top of this I am probably doing a one day a week Masters in Creative Writing. And not adopting a dog called Byron. I don't know. Everything is a bit undecided at the moment.

I think I will literally crawl back into bed now.

Sunday, 24 May 2009

There's nothing. There just isn't anything.

Wednesday, 20 May 2009

missing a timecock

Family Guy and "Dirty Cider" drinking games with
Denim and friends at 3AM. Shoestring Festival plans
falling into place. KPA Sandwiches with Ollie and her
Hull-Friend Hannah. Shopping for banner-making
materials. Creative Writing meetings. Mochas. Pizza
and cider. Doctor Who themed porn with amused
friends. Goldfish funeral plans. Rainbow knickers.

I am feeling optimistic and happy in regards to life.

Monday, 18 May 2009

awful poetry


first i will kiss you as if it's going out of fashion
like there's a discount at my favourite store and I am
launching myself down the aisles with great passion
then i am going to scoop you into my arms like
discarded nineties garments and hold you tightly
because all the other offers mean nothing to me.
This poem is one giant cliche the words are nothing
if not painstakingly arranged but feel free to
read my label and believe that I am not
interested in an exchange, that I am
completely dedicated to this cause,
of a love ......... so intense
it is not avaliale in stores.

* * * * *

I'm going through a phase of writing shit poetry
and posting it on the internets where anyone can
see it, then feeling really uncomfortable and
embarrassed. It's odd. I feel masochistic.

Thursday, 14 May 2009

i am so ridiclpously drunk. but i thought i woud updaote this for the lols. hahh.

hello intetnts. i love uow wll.

Wednesday, 13 May 2009

google alerts

hello james sheard

keele writing is awesome

give me a copy of scattering eva

we were sick

I am on the bus.

I need to cut my fringe. I am approximately 40% hair and look ridiculous.

I had a dream that my blog was incredibly famous and popular. I applied for a job at a bar and everyone thought I was amazing and waited on my every update. I didn't feel pressured.

I realised as I left the house that I am wearing the exact same combination of clothes now that I would wear if I was a boy. I am feeling very unisex right now.

Tuesday, 12 May 2009

full circle

I wrote this around February-time in 2008. My relationship with Mark was deteriorating and it's really a mix of nostalgia for life in my first year at university and the fun times of the second. Despite the bleak outlook of rotten food and unruly gardens, there was a feeling amongst myself and my housemates which isn't there now. Excitement perhaps, for both doing things and devoting a day to not doing anything. Acting rather than talking ourselves out of things.

Someday We’ll Graduate

And often I think of how my life
Is made up of photographs
spacespaceand battered postcards,
spacespacedisappearing house keys
spacespaceand loose change as I take
spacespaceroutine bus journeys, drink
spacespacecups of tea with stained brown rings,
spacespaceorder early morning pizzas
spacespacein rooms which spin
spacespacefrom too much gin.
spacespaceMouldy bread and broken eggs and
spacespacemarijuana on the window sill with friends,
spacespacethe poetry on the fridge documenting the obscene
spacespaceoutside a garden that is mostly weeds.
spacespaceThe kitchen ceiling leaks through the fog
spacespaceof a Tuesday hangover
spacespaceand Saturday afternoon lethargy.
spacespaceGetting lost in the library and losing yourself
spacespacein a club, or a book. Highlighting
Lazy Sundays, hours of chess,
Bacon sandwiches and lying in bed.

This evening, following a nap brought on by the aftermath of a night spent in a boy's bed, I wrote a follow up. It's less nostalgic. I feel pretty sad about the way this year is ending. Life feels more downbeat nowadays, and I really miss that feeling. I think it will get better and maybe I just woke up extra grumpy today, but this is my poetically lethargic sigh in the face of final year life.

At Last We Graduate

And sometimes I wonder if this is
All there is; the endless essay fear
spacespaceand floods of tears,
spacespacediscarded Keele Cards
spacespacewhich leave me stranded
spacespacein a world of failed revision
spacespaceand successful KPA sandwiches.
spacespaceFruitless Facebook chats behind
spacespaceclosed locked doors, bored,
spacespaceon clothes-covered floors.
spacespaceCigarettes and short-lived pets and
spacespacespacecakes in the pub with friends,
spacespacea poo chart hanging in the loo
spacespaceand emotional late reunions at two.
spacespaceThe stale, sad sight
spacespaceof a Saturday hangover
spacespaceand Sunday library trips,
spacespaceplotting painstaked prose and
spacespacequips in evening workshops. Remembering
Enthusiasm for waking late and wasting time,
Companionship, and your body next to mine.

Monday, 11 May 2009

i can't bring myself to look

my goldfish died
and I am very sad.

Saturday, 9 May 2009

"red u rock my world"

sex on the beach cocktails cookies music visitors
short queues green beaver shots vks crazy dancing
flailing cheesy pop sweet child o' mine sharpies
t shirt signing drunken handwriting menthol
cigarettes reunions being recognised by strangers
energetic boys slow dancing to britney spears
jumping up and down running drunkenly
through the library congratulations dark
woodland paths chaperones with odd names
kings of leon campfires green lights mistaken
identity hiding amongst the trees kisses borrowed
clothes walks home double mattresses unwatched
movies cuddling sleep early morning wakeups
keele so bright and sunny at ten thirty in the morning.

Good night, then.

Friday, 8 May 2009

lip smacking

I was clearing out old memory cards and found a few photos
of Mark looking beautiful.

I am trapped in a flat with two pairs of happy, pre and
post sexing couples who are giggling and kissing noisily.

Part of me wants to curl up in bed and the other part wants
to die a lot.

It's time to go out and party.

Wednesday, 6 May 2009

i have centre-apathy

I spent this morning in an exam hall, yawning and
not writing very much. I have now officially completed
my undergraduate degree.

I spent this afternoon staring at my hair wondering
why it never matches the colour shown on the hair dye box.

I have a mask and a toy gun.

I waste a lot of money.

Ryan Manning published me on cookiebomb and
Adam Coates mentioned my blog on his blog.
I feel moderately-to-above-averagely special about this.

Tuesday, 5 May 2009

one more day

I will Google Truman Capote when I get home

A man my age wearing thick black glasses
is sitting opposite me on the bus reading In Cold Blood.
His knee is moving in time with the buzz coming
from his headphones and I stare at his face for six seconds.
He looks at me. I look at him.
We look at each other.
I think: coffeekissingsexlovemarriagebabiesdeath.
I stare at my feet until it is time
to get off the bus.

Do something, you idiot

I will spontaneously lunge across this table
to push my lips against yours
and probably pull a muscle.

Monday, 4 May 2009

all your sins

I am so ridiculously in love.

I am so ridiculous.

I am so

so, so close
to giving up on this.

Sunday, 3 May 2009

the women are isolated

I failed my "not buying any food" challenge on Day 2 today
when myself and a group of friends went to an all you can eat
restaurant for dinner. Whoops.

It is growing increasingly more difficult for me not to buy this book.
Somebody buy me this book.

The last sentence I wrote was;
"It is a struggle of power between the sexes, that verges almost on actual war,
with Steve using military terms in his attempt to penetrate Carly anally"

I think my essay is going well. Probably.

Saturday, 2 May 2009

ich habe hunger

I am not going to buy any food for the forseeable future.

Friday, 1 May 2009

I start at f and end at d

This is my smug, "I will never have to read this stupid
book ever again" face. One History exam down.

I'm submitting short things to internet places and editing
work for the Keele Writing Magazine. Ho hum.

From Corrections:

I read. I absorb everything from the bar to the breakfast kebabs.
My eyes trace the burgundy lips of Shelly and the curve of Kelly’s arse.
I picture him in his new leather jacket, the description of which appears
above a brief thanks! for the money I sent him to cover his rent. I read
everything and find it distasteful. His graduation photo hangs in my
hallway; he could have been a lawyer, a historian, even a writer. I have
been biting my tongue and my mouth fills with the tang of copper coins.
Distasteful. I take out a chunky white marker from the desk drawer and
hold it over his filthy words. Poised.

it was consensual, officer

I barricaded Steven into his bedroom so he could write
his essay without distractions. (There's a little paper
catflap at the bottom of the tape prison so he can get
out to use the toilet.) Whenever I walk past his room I
can hear frantic typing.

I need to clear all the rubbish off my bedroom floor.
I need to cram for my exam which is in 6½ hours.
I need to win back M's trust so we can be happy.
I need to find a job in Manchester for two months time.
I need to sort myself and my sleeping patterns out.

I feel overwhelmed by life.