Tuesday, 21 July 2009


mmm yeah magic carpets and love and novelties and things

I am. Slow. Comfy. Dreamy. Vacant. calm. few good friends to skip moon rocks to...


Monday, 20 July 2009

So there's this bloke in tesco's

Looks about 60. And he's in the frozen aisle where the containers have condensation on them. He walks past each alternating one and draws an X and then an O. So the whole aisle is going XOXOXOXOXOX, drawn in condensation. And he smiled the whole time and whistled. Wonder what he was up to.... It was well curious.

Saturday, 18 July 2009

Thursday, 16 July 2009

Words can't say it.

but I can try.

13 hour sleeps...

Make Alex a happy boy. Well I mean not exactly happy, my happiness is independent of the fact that I slept for so long. But they certainly are an improvement somehow. For one, the permanent bags I have under my eyes have actually gone away. They never go away, no joke. Except for when I used to visit my dad and I'd sleep to pass the time 'cause I was bored. Also I'm finding that it slightly alters how I think, thoughts come a little bit slower and better formed. It's only slight but it's nice, some relief from the usual whirling rush.

I'm gonna reiterate one of my first ever blogs. I think I have something really good in my life at the minute, and I probably don't even realise how good. But, I'm getting there. :)

Have you all seen the "BNP babes" thing? If not check it out, it's tragicomic. haha. But anyway one of them beautifully summarised the BNP's position, for me, on asylum seekers - "I wouldn't mind them if they actually worked and stopped stealing all our jobs". Beautiful, just beautiful. hehe.

I am veeery slowly improving at guitar. Frustratingly slowly. It's because I never practice. But sometimes I do pick it up and mess about for a bit, and well, every little helps, right molly? *laughs*

I'll end with a quote from the legendary Neil Gaiman. :)

May your coming year be filled with magic and dreams and good madness. I hope you read some fine books and kiss someone who thinks you’re wonderful, and don’t forget to make some art — write or draw or build or sing or live as only you can. And I hope, somewhere in the next year, you surprise yourself.

It's all happened. :)

Monday, 13 July 2009

Lessons from Mice and Flies

Lessons from mice and flies

Even flies were snickering last night
As they buzzed at my window to the drum of the rain
Knowing, better than I ever might
That the devil makes work for an idle brain

The dead dust in the air mocked the collapse
Of my paper morality and imagined restrain
As it settled on my floor with the knowledge perhaps
That I’m just one more fucker, one more dealer in pain

The deeds of the week sank heavy into my guts
No justifications, no hang-ons, no buts
Just the bed that I made to lie in
I fell into a troubled and uneasy sleep…
In my dream I was walking over and over into the same brick wall
With a bottle of cheap red wine in my hand and only thought-fragments in my head
A mouse ran up to me and introduced himself saying
“Hello my name is John Stuart Mill”
“Don’t worry too much that I’m a mouse that can speak”
“What’s more to the point is you; and how you’re weak”
My dream-self started to sob a little bit
But John the mouse weren’t havin’ none of that shit
He said “Stop crying Alex that won’t help at all”
“You’ll just keep on walking into this same brick wall”
Until you get it through your head that you affect those around you
Particularly the ones you love particularly those that found you
In this whole human carnival they’ve accredited you some worth
So son, please remember you’re not the only one on this earth

I woke up it was morning the flies were nowhere to be seen
I guess they must have faded, as the mouse did with the dream
Grabbed my cheap wine by the bottleneck and poured that shit away
Then I walked out my door for the better new day.

Desperate Parting Pot-Shot Wisdom

Desperate parting pot-shot wisdom

Here we all are then

For hugs, and goodbyes

For farewells, so longs, cheerios,

And reciprocal replies

As their sadly retreating backs are caught in a final, fading moonbeam

The pain of leaving hits me – smack – and in my head I scream

I wanna shout and say “Wait!”

Do you know that things are not as they seem?

Do you know that life is just a dream?

Do you know that happiness is in little things?

And do you know why the caged bird sings?

Do you know that money is the means, not the end?

Do you know when to step back and just, transcend?

Do you know that life’s conventions mean nothing

Unless they resonate with you?

Do you know that the will of a majority

Can often alienate the few?

Do you know that liberty, equality and brotherhood always deserve a mention?

But do you also know that the road to hell is paved with good intentions?

Do you know that I love you all more than I can ever say?

Do you know that when times are hard there is no need to pray?

Yeah, humans are the answer, for cuddles and for cries,

It is always better to look to each other than up into the skies,

Do you know that you should never give in?

Do you know that peace is found first within?

Do you know that beauty is absolutely everywhere?

Do you know that the world doesn’t always rhyme?

Or necessarily, like, have a good rhythm?

In fact sometimes it can seem to go nowhere…

But do you know that so long

As your head’s screwed on

And that blood of yours still runs red

That the next great big adventure

Is always up ahead?

I didn’t shout any of that, in the end

It would have seemed a bit preachy and weird

So pathetically, meekly I said nothing at all

And the pale grey face of time, sneered

But through all the films that our lives play

Through the rom-coms and the thrillers

In your friendship I find salvation

So distance - will never – fucking – kill us.


Sadness is a perpetual motion machine

Just one push… and it’s away

A disconsolate dream from forces unseen

That feeds on itself until every day’s grey

And you start thinkin’ I’ve got no real mates

I’m just an arrogant loser that everyone hates

And I fucked my prospects with my first rave

And to this inner darkness I am just a slave

And yeah I’m going nowhere

And the fabric of my reality’s beginning to tear

I’m just a recipe for disappointment that no one can save

But then… your phone rings.

Might as well see what news it brings.

Party on the beach mate, Saturday night

Drunken revelry in the moonlight

Get yourself down there, you know its right

You’re definitely going, you say “Yeah. I might.”

And, hang on, you think

There’s no need for a shrink

There’s that girl I kissed the other day

Sweet and soft while music played

Says she likes me, I think she means it

So maybe I’m doing something right even if I can’t see it

And actually I’m young; I’ve got everything to win!

And you sit back in your chair, with a big daft grin

Sadness is a perpetual motion machine

Just one push and it’s away

But that’s not so bad; not such a shame

‘Cause happiness is just the same

And it really only matters which machine you switch on.

Sunday, 12 July 2009


She said you are an astronaut clipped from the mothership
You are a jellyfish with no lips
I said listen short stuff
I'll skip my moon rock across your puddle dive I'll kiss your punches with my nose
I bet you smell like... butterfly, but I bet you dream cocoon
And I bet you never say the word "fuck" but we all know you do my heart is a runway
I been starin' at the sky since my love took off...
Will you be my friend?
Will you poem me a porch-swing will you punch me in the tough just once I need to reset my bones
Swingset my ribcage so the next time somebody pushes me away I'll swing right back
To that chisel with my marble spine, go ahead build me,
Go ahead throw me at the storm like
the fisherman's prayer
Do you ever think about gods years, wonder if the levee broke a promise,
Wonder if the wrecking ball was trying to run it's fingers soft across the bricks
But it's head was just too heavy?
Before you become my friend, picnic with my rubble
Road trip with everyone I left in the dust
Do the laundry, from the last time I was loaded
How she found the trigger and we woke with the sheet pulled above our heads
Praying the mortician could make us pretty
None of us, are pretty
But our ugly has an alibi and our gorgeous has a baby sister's sand collection
Our 3 harmonicas we keep blowing off for that flute we carved from our wrist
Put your lips here; tell me, there is music in my blood
Then tell me there is more in my light
Hang me chandelier, from the last night I believed this life had to hurt so much
I am done, kneeling in the church of steepled smoke stack done,
Stargazing traincrash
Give me wind sprint
Tell me my fingerprints are the shape of ripples on a frozen lake
Tell me my coal-mined will never collapse on my heart
I'll tell you these poems, they're my birthmarks and I came this close to having them removed
Even cut that voice-box cutter, hidden in my shoe the day that flight took off
But the runway, it's made of marble made of gush made of windmill
Made of salt, there is a sea made of hope-chest
And every word I speak prayin' to be opened by the night
With its belly full of angers, full of yield, full of shield,
For my wingspan
Teach me how the candle wax says thank you to the flame
Tell me how your mother says your name
Like an orchard going bloom
A doctor once told me I feel too much
I said so does god
That's why you can see the grand canyon from the moon
You're a telescope, a river bed, we're empty lockets melting into gold
We're hearts breaking, bread fold me and the napkin poem
Pull the tinsel from my hair from all the past I cannot let go
My gills are adjusting to the air
The story husk peeled from my bones
My bones know the song of our tears dripping from the faucet
Ticking like a metronome, I know there is better music
Even in this cabin full of fever
Tonight I'm catching nothing but the lightning bug
My body is a messenger
Transparent as a jellyfish
I wish for a heart you can see straight through
For a voice that glows in the dark
And a few really good friends... to skip moon rocks to.

Wednesday, 8 July 2009


I'm angry. I sometimes want to murder my family. Let's write a blog about bad music that I still love in the perhaps vain hope that it will calm me down. (Some thing that has helped is my che guevara tee-shirt fits me and is very nice and red. Something that will help is watching Spaced. Something that would help even more is getting out of this fucking house ffs FFS okay shut up now write the blog)

Mindless Self Indulgence

You stupid motherfucker
You stupid motherfucker
You stupid motherFUCK...ER!

Dashboard Confessional

All the best deceptions and the clever cover story, awards... go to you
So kiss me hard, 'cause this will be the last time that I'll let you


I will gouge out your eyeballs and skullfuck you.

Scouting For Girls

She's a strawberry milkshake
She's as sweet as a peach

They're terrible and they're brilliant and I love them.

Wednesday, 1 July 2009

The Church and Reason are like oil and water.

Here's Martin Luther, founder of modern protestantism, on reason and rationality:

Reason is the Devil’s greatest whore; by nature and manner of being she is a noxious whore; she is a prostitute, the Devil’s appointed whore; whore eaten by scab and leprosy who ought to be trodden under foot and destroyed, she and her wisdom… Throw dung in her face to make her ugly. She is and she ought to be drowned in baptism… She would deserve, the wretch, to be banished to the filthiest place in the house, to the closets.