Resume

Razors pain you
Rivers are damp
Acids stain you
And drugs cause cramp
Guns aren't lawful
Nooses give
Gas smells awful
You might as well live.

-- [Dorothy Parker]

Relativity Blues

There's no way back to fairy country

Once the spell is broken

Reality is settling in

And leaves no single token

No more dragons roar tonight

No more goblins roam the subsoil

Good and evil, wrong or right

Just a blurry stew in downboil

How can there be no rules no more

No universal truth or guideline

No goodness gauge for me to score

To make the blame and guilt decline

How come that simply wasn't true

ALL that I believed in

The faultiness that stuck like glue

The pain, the shame, the debt of sin

Well, everything is relative
So they say in factual land
Go and make the best of it
Drag yourself out of your quicksand
...and they leave me with no bearings

So, leave me, let the changeling be

Like no one ever came to rescue

When the fairies have all gone from me

What will stay is that the pain is true

Yes, I know it never was your fault

You just have your own perspective

Just my safeguard from assault

Wasn't that effective

Everything is relative
So that's true then, everyone
But what can I make of it
If I feel my life's undone
...where am I to find my bearings

Doomsday

There is only so much I can bear.



I'm done with.

Shattered.

If fate wants to crush me...

I'm done with!

Clashing Realities

Oooops!



So why didn't anyone tell me that my Blog is all over the place on the Internet???

How did I manage to become one of the top links for the Jacobson-Organ without realizing?

Should I've been more careful?

I'm considering...

Oh yes, there are!

http://www.sarmatianwarrior.bravehost.com/

There is hope

Got some good books, recycled some old music...

I will not let myself being dragged down by some stupid stubborn git!

There are still other blokes about.

Ha!

BurnedOut

I can do nothing more
I feel weak
Weak every day, every hour
I must reek
I can do nothing more
I feel torn
Tattered and ragged
From skin to bone worn

Open a window
A wall I can climb
Right through a door
On a cliff left behind
Tear up an abyss
And let me drop by
High as a kite
And as drawn as the sky

I can do nothing more

I feel weak

Weak every day, every hour

I must reek

I can do nothing more

I feel torn

Tattered and ragged

From skin to bone worn

Drown down my virtues
And scrap my skin bare
Self-hatred nurtures
On faith and despair
All of my hopes
That I solemnly stored
Now suddenly crushed
With their woes unexplored

I can do nothing more
I feel weak
Weak every day, every hour
I must reek
I can do nothing more
I feel torn
Tattered and ragged
From skin to bone worn

Drain up my body
And spill out my blood
Bend down my sinews
And lead out my gut
Nothing to help
And yet no more to hide
Just let me drift
And be gone with the tide

I can do nothing more
I feel weak
Weak every day, every hour
I must reek
I can do nothing more
I feel torn
Tattered and ragged
From skin to bone worn...

On the move

I'm getting there...
Back to myself again.

All silly and besotted and homesick...

But ME.

 http://www.still-my-heart.org/monty/

C L O S E D

Due to a massive identity crisis I am temporarily
OUT OF ORDER.

...might take a while.

Torn

I am undecided...

Where do I belong?

I am undecided...

Where will be my home?

I am undecided...

\: Show me the way :/

...To your heart.



[somewhere on the last Marshall&Alexander album, written by whoever]

About time

Finally...
My most favourite band of all is to be found online.
Properly! And up-to-date.
Goody.




http://www.beautifulsouth.co.uk

http://www.beautifulsouth.org/tindex.shtml

http://www.beautifulsouth.tk

http://www.btemmedia.co.uk/bsonline/index.htm

http://www.beautiful-south.de/

http://www.paulheaton.com/

http://www.biscuitboy.co.uk/

http://www.xmission.com/~dking/bsdiscog.htm

Cursed

Creepy crawly horrid feelings

Cumulate inside of me.

Tense and clammy air revealing:

That curse shot up again with glee.

Sweaty pearls on forehead glisten,

Limbs and brain so dead and cold.

No more words - why would you listen

To anything you were not told.

Still my heart beats mad as stampede,

Not a clear thought left to think.

If that is love - tuck it in concrete,

Those hormones push me off the brink.

If only if... - If only I...

Would have a hint, a sign to catch,

A sigh, a look, a word, a song...

You could be in for perfect match.

Die Besten erwischt es immer zuerst...

I know it's silly...

-Nostalgia and all that.

-But they make me hop about whenever I listen to any record.

-Goes straight from the ear into childhood-memory.

~ Neonatal Imprinting! ~

Commemorating Louis Hendrik Potgieter

(who died of AIDS in 1993)

Kinsey

Okay...

-Progress down the drains.

-Back to the Middle Ages.

... but does it really have to be that no one knows about

Alfred KINSEY and his reports anymore.

I mean, where are we??? The sodding Vatican?

Oh, ich hasse HASSE hasse KARNEVAL!!!

Yet each man kills the thing he loves

By each let this be heard,

Some do it with a bitter look,

Some with a flattering word,

The coward does it with a kiss,

The brave man with a sword!

Some kill their love when they are young,

And some when they are old;

Some strangle with the hands of Lust,

Some with the hands of Gold:

The kindest use a knife, because

The dead so soon grow cold.

Some love too little, some too long,

Some sell, and others buy;

Some do the deed with many tears,

And some without a sigh:

For each man kills the thing he loves,

Yet each man does not die.

[Oscar Wilde]

Yeuch!

So much for life shaping you down....

Had the tonsilitis of a lifetime.
After all, dying of fever was not what I had in mind
when I considered passing away in my sleep to be a nice option.


Makes you value life a bit more.

SINGING FOR THE LONELY

Shape up! Shape up! Shape up!
But it's sooo difficult if the world is constantly shaping you down.
Very frustrating that is.
Well, who would have thought that I ever felt in tune with
Robbie Williams...

Singing for the lonely

You're not the only ones who feel this

So scared of what I'm doing

All the time

Here comes wasted head-space

Paranoia

Anger, misplaced feelings

Leave me nowhere

All the time

I don't wake up early every morning

'Cause the more I sleep the less I have to say

Scared of you always thinking that I'm boring

Stop me yawning my life away

Tender young confusion

Send black mariah for blue delusions

Lays heavy oh so heavy

On my mind

I'm so sick of people's expectations

Leaves me tired all the time

If your home's full of useless aggravation

Then don't bring it to mine

I seem to spend my life

Just waiting for the chorus

'Cause the verse is never nearly

Good enough
The hooligan half of me

That steals from Woolworths

While the other lives for love

I'm so sick of people's expectations

Leaves me tired all the time

If your home's full of worthless aggravation

Then don't bring it to mine

Singing for the lonely

We're not the only ones who feel this

So scared of what I'm doing

All the time
Singing for the Lonely

We're not the only ones who feel this

Scared of what we're doing

All the time

[Robbie Williams]

Gosh, it's sad in here, isn't it?


I think it's about time to "shape up".


Any drugs anyone?
Prozac maybe....

Give me a hint with a hammer
Or give me a hit with a brick
Life is that dead old dilemma
Of chances unwilling to pick

In dark deep the shadows are trailing
Like pieces of sick cloth on string
A longing of mourning and wailing
When wet to your body they cling

Yet, I cannot give my soul in
Hand back that dead carcass of mine
Nothing to make me old heart sing
Has left heaven’s torment in time