There are no more barriers to cross. All I have in common with the uncontrollable and the insane, the vicious and the evil, all the mayhem I have caused and my utter indifference toward it I have now surpassed. My pain is constant and sharp and I do not hope for a better world for anyone, in fact I want my pain to be inflicted on others. I want no one to escape, but even after admitting this there is no catharsis, my punishment continues to elude me and I gain no deeper knowledge of myself; no new knowledge can be extracted from my telling. This confession has meant nothing

Sketches For My Sweetheart The Drunk.

I Will Attend Coachella.

I hate myself, i hate humans and i hate humanity.

If you die you're completely happy and your soul somewhere lives on. I'm not afraid of dying. Total peace after death, becoming someone else is the best hope I've got. - Kurt Cobain.

Sass&Vodka

Love… Is at the very core of everything really. Isnt everything we do centred around feeling ‘love’ and the euphoria that comes along with it, holding its hand? Our actions are either as a result of love, or a result of fear; fear that we aren’t feeling love. We read novels and watch films because we love how they make us feel, how they inspire us and tempt us. We are in love with drinking, with smoking, with consumerism and gossip because of how they make us feel; Until of course, the ramifications that can often accompany, offer a long slow come down, a yearning for the addiction we cannot kick, because we have grown to love it. We work jobs we hate because we love the money it brings and the fact that it feeds the family we love. We keep company with people who are toxic to us, because we have taught ourselves to love the entire situation.We brave the harshest of conditions, a snowy mountain top, a six foot wave, a weekend in the city because it allows us to feel exhilarated, which we love. We write thesis’ and essays only for the fact that we will receive a good mark and this justifies the love of ourselves. When it comes down to it, love is really, all you need.

Nothing But White

it's my lovely lovely brothers wedding in november and this is what im thinking of wearing.
hopfully i can get a dress made to look just like this!
the wedding is on the beach so i think it suits quiet well.
attending a friends party tonight so i shall have photos!
have a lovely friday

She Thought I Wanted A Kiss... It Ended Badly.

Trainspotting you lovely lovely movie.

Choose life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family. Choose a fucking big television, Choose washing machines, cars, compact disc players, and electrical tin openers. Choose good health, low cholesterol and dental insurance. Choose fixed- interest mortgage repayments. Choose a starter home. Choose your friends. Choose leisure wear and matching luggage. Choose a three piece suite on hire purchase in a range of fucking fabrics. Choose DIY and wondering who you are on a Sunday morning. Choose sitting on that couch watching mind-numbing sprit- crushing game shows, stuffing fucking junk food into your mouth. Choose rotting away at the end of it all, pishing you last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, fucked-up brats you have spawned to replace yourself. Choose your future. Choose life... But why would I want to do a thing like that? I chose not to choose life: I chose something else. And the reasons? There are no reasons. Who need reasons when you've got heroin?

Remember man thou art dust and into dust thou shalt return.

Memento, homo, quia pulvis es, et in pulverem reverteris.


Blink, blink. HOSPITAL. SILENCE.
Ten days old, carried in the front door in his
mother's arms, first thing he heard was
Bobby Dazzler on Channel 7:
Hello, hello hello all you lucky people and he
really was lucky because it didn't mean a thing
to him then...
A year or two to settle in and
get acquainted with the set-up; like every other
well-equipped smoothly-run household, his included
one economy-size Mum, one Anthony Squires-
Coolstream-Summerweight Dad, along with two other kids
straight off the Junior Department rack.

When Mom won the
Luck's-A-Fortch Tricky-Tune Quiz she took him shopping
in the good-as-new station-wagon (£ 495 dep. at Reno's).
Beep, beep. WALK. DON'T WALK. TURN
LEFT. NO PARKING. WAIT HERE. NO
SMOKING. KEEP CLEAR/OUT/OFF GRASS. NO
BREATHING EXCEPT BY ORDER. BEWARE OF
THIS. WATCH OUT FOR THAT. My God (beep)
the congestion here just gets (beep)
worse every day, now what the (beep beep) does
that idiot think he's doing (beep beep and BEEP).

However, what he enjoyed most of all was when they
went to the late show at the local drive-in, on a clear night
and he could see (beyond the fifty-foot screen where
giant faces forever snarled screamed or make
incomprehensible and monstrous love) a pure
unadulterated fringe of sky, littered with stars
no-one had got around to fixing up yet: he'd watch them
circling about in luminous groups like kids at the circus
who never go quite close enough to the elephant to get kicked.

Anyway, pretty soon he was old enough to be
realistic like every other godless
money-hungry back-stabbing miserable
so-and-so, and then it was goodbye stars and the soft
cry in the corner when no-one was looking because
I'm telling you straight, Jim, it's Number One every time
for this chicken, hit wherever you see a head and
kick whoever's down, well thanks for a lovely
evening Clare, it's good to get away from it all
once in a while, I mean it's a real battle all the way
and a man can't help but feel a little soiled, himself,
at times, you know what I mean?

Now take it easy
on those curves, Alice, for God's sake,
I've had enough for one night, with that Clare Jessup,
hey, ease up, will you, watch it --

Probity & Sons, Morticians,
did a really first-class job on his face
(everyone was very pleased) even adding a
healthy tan he'd never had, living, gave him back for keeps
the old automatic smile with nothing behind it,
winding the whole show up with a
nice ride out to the underground metropolis
permanent residentials, no parking tickets, no taximeters
ticking, no Bobby Dazzlers here, no down payments,
nobody grieving over halitosis
flat feet shrinking gums falling hair.

Six feet down nobody interested.

Blink, blink. CEMETERY. Silence.

Rhomper. Stomper. Domper.

I think you smoke alittle too much?
i wake up... your baked.
i come home from school your in the same postion i left you in..... baked.
i go for a run and come home and your.... baked.
i cook dinner bring it to you... baked.
i drag myself to bed and your... baked.

No Explaining Needed.

And This Is Jett....

Eat My Heart. Eat My Hear. Eat My Art. HEART. He Ate My Heart. He Ate My Hear. He Ate My Art. HEART.

Something I Dribbled One Night.

i wonder, if some cut open my body,made a massive insienon from my chest all the way down to my belly button, what would they see, am i normal to everyone else, does everything work the exact same way to everybody else, and if so why do the call us diffrent, that every body is diffrent because when you think about it where not. we all tick the exact same way.
i want you to open me up and pick out my organs one by one and see how long i would last.
pull me apart and put me back togeather again.
with all of your fancsy tools.
pin prick and push me.
swiftly sew and stitch me.
devower me.
consume me.

Up To Speed