my idea of fun

I've been thinking recently about changing this blog into something more creative; attempting to assemble my simultaneously manic and mundane thoughts into some form of short stories or creative pieces, maybe mixed with stuff I come across in my uni reading that I like - poems and quotes from books and whatnot.

I don't know, I might even start a new blog altogether. I'm feeling pretty directionless on the creativity front, so with 2013 looming I'm trying to give myself a push up the arse.

She partly drew aside the curtain of the long low garret-window, and called our attention to a number of bird-cages hanging there; some, containing several birds. There were larks, linnets and gold-finches- I should think at least twenty.
'I began to keep the little creatures,' she said, 'with an object that the wards will readily comprehend. With the intention of restoring them to liberty. When my judgement should be given. Ye-es! They die in prison, though. Their lives, poor silly things, are so short in comparison with Chancery proceedings, that, one by one, the whole collection has died over and over again. I doubt, do you know, whether one of these, though they are all young, will live to be free! Ve-ry mortifying, is it not?' 

- Bleak House, Chap. XIV.

well all the apostles, they're sitting in swings
saying "i'd sell off my savior for a set of new rings
and some sandles with the style of straps that cling best to the era"
so all of the businessers in their unlimited
hell where they buy and they sell and they sell all their
trash to each other but they're sick of it all
and they're bankrupt on selling
and all of the angels
they'd sell off your soul for a set of new wings and anything gold
they remember
the people they loved their old friends
and i've seen through them all 
seen through them all and seen through most everything
all the people you knew were the actors
all the people you knew were the actors
well, i'll go to college and i'll learn some big words
and i'll talk real loud
goddamn right i'll be heard
you'll remember all the guys that said all those big words he must've
learned in college
and it took a long time
i came clean with myself
i come clean out of love with my lover
i still love her
loved her more when she used to be sober and i was kinder. 

Life is okay; Triston and I have both got this weird stomach bug though so we're not eating very much at all but I guess this can only be a good thing for me. 

tickle me green, i'm too naive

As I stood on the small frosty platform waiting for a train that seemed an eternity away, I looked up at the painfully blue sky. The sharp twangy taste of green olives haunted my mouth and my coarse hair obscured my vision in the biting wind and I placidly contemplated others near me. An impatient, foot tapping, expensive coat wearing doll glared about her, angry at the way things are and where is that god damn train and I wonder if those shoes are still on offer where was that place again and oh my god I can't believe that slut Lorraine last night oh whatever his shoulders weren't broad enough for me anyway and where is that god damn train.

As her thoughts steadily wafted about in a cloud of banality, I buried myself, looking down into the dark, cold, slightly clammy gap between my dress and the inner stitching of my coat, breathing in the odour of my deodorant and a dress that hadn't quite dried properly and Triston's Calvin Klein eau de toilette and that unmistakeable scent of crisp, clean cold. I pulled my upper lip towards my nose to sniff the aloe vera of my cheap lip balm, left a sticky residue on my philtrum and unburied myself from the little haven of familiarity.

A rustling sound caught my hazy attention and I glanced towards a spindly tree to my right, with bleak branches leaning precariously over the platform. Balanced on one of these branches were two young squirrels, entwined in each other, kicking, biting, nuzzling, their bushy tails moving delicately in the early evening rawness. I looked at the man to the right of me; large, red, with glazed eyes and a small attractive mouth, warm dragon's breath smoking from it into the numb air. I thought about my father; how thin and yellow he would appear next to this confident beast. I thought about whether red or yellow was a more attractive pallor. I thought about whether 'beast' was an insult or a heavily-laden compliment. I decided on olive.

(work in progress)