joining the dots between sites i use

you (carla, hahaha) can look at my sketches here: http://bekintechnicolour.carbonmade.com/

sometime soon 'O8 will appear and i swear everything will get better, peace out

oh man, it's my fucking birthday

this is growing up

catherine walks to the store every sunday morning
she takes a pint of milk and a carton of ciggarettes
pays for it sleepily she's always stifling her yawning
last night was any saturday, full of dreams and bets
a flat in london and a tenner on them kissing,
london's full of fun, you've no idea what you're missing

william spends the morning reading old letters
scrawled across the page they spell out teenagers
she'd downed her drink, held his hand, and said it's for the better
his father's up at 11, tells his son to just stick to the papers
he makes a point to spend the rest of the day inside
well he never knew he was a poet 'til he had something to hide

sam's woken by her phone, buzzing in her pocket
she's twenty new texts from all her new found friends
but none from the boy who's picture stays in her locket
she stumbles in at 6 am, her mother mutters this has to end
slamming doors and tutting, being childish won't get us anywhere
here you go again, it'd stop if you only cared

how to be young

let your hands take on the temperature of the room
let your eyes become the colour of the walls
let your hair illustrate the atmosphere
become not what you think but what you are,
a moment in time in somebody's memory
let yourself be attributed to midnight drives with the windows down
let yourself feel the rain if it's raining
and if the sun shines, be sure to dance
grey skies are only the nights woken up
let yourself live: this is life and you are young
let your bones never be brittle
because around here
we stay up very, very, very late


SO WHAT IF I STOLE THE LAST BIT FROM COUNTING CROWS. FUKU ALL.NOT THAT ANYBODY SAID ANYTHING/

Unceasingly, words fall out my mouth -
my nose and ears, resting on my hips.
The transparency between truths and lies;
(i'm as honest as it gets,
and i'm still not making sense.)
Even in caliginosity
monsters that sit under my bed,
they catch words and phrases -
molding, twisting, manipulating,
making "i don't care what you think"s
laying cliche on cliche.
And outside, my head pounds
so i write phrases on napkins and
when i get home, i don't get them anymore
the wet from the rain, runs the ink from the pen
and i start to believe the lies i told at breakfast.
I wrap myself up in imagery -
in metaphors and similes,
i want to put the sun in my hair and a river in my eyes.
i'm part of the world's biggest gang
a replica of typical.
i salvaged three words - just "one more song"
and i change twice a day,
but i'll always understand.

--------------

Rousing as the world starts to turn; in surreal hours,
a silence blankets the cobbles and pavement.
the black iron palings that line the slabs glint in the hazy morning light
and viridian ivy, hugging the sides of tenement flats, seems to yawn,
as a light breeze lazily filters through desolate streets.
In the sky; the moon is manifest against the cool blue,
illustrating the crisp atmosphere, the crunch of leaf under foot.
but not a single word to be heard; for none are voiced.
only a bird's chirp - light and sweet, can be detected,
signalling dawn in a silver-toned song.

----------------

i sleep with wild eyes open
and keep defiances under pillows.
wrapped in duvet are sharp bones;
snapping out from skin.
teeth sharp but milky and
silk hair like curtains to hide behind
when morning arrives.
set your black holes alight,
bare skin calls alive in every shiver and
i am naught but dreams:
i am pieces of youth,
held together by stitches of regime.

it is not a case of not knowing what i am angry at so much as it is a case of not being able to find it.

sometimes i get this strange feeling, like i'm under water, or that everything is so new that i shouldn't touch anything. i am trying not to think about when i get like this. 2007 is gone like balloons into the sky: it definitely existed, because sometimes i catch tiny glimpses of red and green and yellow in inifinite blue.