Own.
Oan
One
Oven
Ovan.
Alone.
Woan.
Won.
Wan
One.
Sonar.
Owner
Boner.
Energy, loss, hunger flat, pat. Tired. Dinner. eat ears eat eat eat eat and eat.
And plan. And list, and complain and plan and never get anywhere. Unless you ditch everything and everyone and just run. Run from everyone. Have no relaiblility. No worries. Lose those chins. Move. Don’t have, or lend or swap or exchange time with anyone. Write freely. Think openly. Talk not, to yourself.
Speak to the centre of the earth ask for its gift of warmth.

Spelling shot. Worry not for your mother, father, sister or brother. Worry not for yourself. Get your mind, make it active. Admit your plans and you motives. You’re secrets are wasted. Write down your secrets. Make them plans. Inject joy and exhiliration into your own life. Your wild eyes. Dehydrated. Hungry always. Tired, fat, lazy. Surely, its as simple as having a bottle of water.
Headspins. Hunger. Shocking.

Travel. Plans, abash. a wash. sex. and youth. and fitness. and beauty and progress and comfort and warmth and friends and jealousy, embarrassment, impatience. Flirtatious. Fixed, free, stolen, love and hearts and blood and sideways looks of sheepish feelings. Skittish. enjoyment. Liberty.

A novel you always wanted to write.
The dreamscape you live most days.

You wonder what your bald boss would look like if he lost all of his excess weight. A goblin? The customers come in late. One has children and a wife that’s busy. They should go out. Explore the world. Move.
You know you have energy. But how is it stored?
Where is your own motivation?
You are drained.
You are in the gutter.
You need to break your chains.
Bound up and angry. Frightened.
Life is short. You’ve got to get away Patrick.
YOU have TO. Admitt to others? How could they understand or give you advice?
Look at your bus tickets. Toyed with that idea at a young age, didn’t you. Free yourself from that. Run.
RUN to where you need to be. Every day. Run.
Jog to work.
Jog you fat, lazy pathetic excuse of a young man.
Jiggle and uncontrolled.
Mind not in charge.
Drone. Moron. Animal.
Mood based.
Pathetic, frightened. Worried about scholarships and honesty and admitting and talking and telling.
SUCH DISSONANCE. Two ideas.
The spreading of legs.
Fucked by the world.
Murdered. Sperm, dried out, wasted.
Sun-bleached. Washed away. down the drain with the spiders and silver fish.
With your childhood dreams and the time you will never have to read all those books and listen to all that music.
New inventors?
Collectors?
Television and sports?
Shows? Uninspired drivvel.
The un-educated toil of claggard-society.
The glue that binds us is the shit that we all excrete and consume.
We say the many names. Joining hands. Teeth and mouth stained.
Poisoned in out circle of similarity.
Stagnant. Ideals of chipboard. Plaster over the past.
The skills we had, the many functions and curiosities that we never ask, explain or seek out. Stifling. I chase the cold. But I know my productivity and depression lays in wait, layers of weight.
My winter coat.
This peasant. ZOUNDS!
He should hibernate.
Throw your buckets to the street.
Watch the tumultuous flow of poverty and charmless activity that we call society evolved.
My my how we have changed.
I’m so full of fear i’m afraid.
So unaccepting, i’m stagnant.
So boring i’m stuck.
So stuck, i’m confused.
So startled by my lack of progress I feel to open up my own head would be the only way to find a synaps. Snap my neck and hold between thumb and forfinger what it is to be alive. Hold only, the one true thought. The go button. The start. The ignition. The circle. The vessel. The vast iris to my own conition.

“what ever is the matter”
I don’t know I need to get a lot off my chest.
I need to grieve.
Let it all go.
Shake my limbs.
Exercise. The loop isn’t being completed.
This winter is taking its toll on me.
Run- run run run run.
Into the sun sun sun sun.

Press the reset.
I need a respawn.
New fresh bars.
This bard needs a new song.
More sonnets.
Poems and music.
Drives.
Motivators.
Brain space.
Friends.
Relatives.
Acceptance, freedom, direction, autonomy.
Cognitive armageddon.
Somebody save me from myself;
what are all these cravings?
Why can’t I be on the up.
Why must I dip.

“Life is all dips and troughs” –
My own past. Shall I go & vomit?
Tragic.
Travesty.
Homebrand feelings.
Packaged like everything else.
Made in and of nothing special.
Please recycle.

RUN AWAY.
Stand. Mumble.
Forget. Move on.
Time ticks.
But that doesn’t matter.
What matters is my swollen ankles and that I might die soon.
You have all the time in the world.
And trust me, it will cure everything.
But first. Let me ditch my mind on this page.
Judge me not.
Watch and a write, without a noun or a verb or accurate spelling.
My wrist. My writing. Tired.
Lost.
Spilt.
Split.
Wasted.

New words.
-Dismission.
-Unmission.

What what what.
I will run away.
I’m 24. Its getting on.
Its getting to be that time.
I’ve done it once.
I need talk to noone.
My shame to bear.
My selfishness.
The bubbles.
The delay.
Pop-pop-pop.
The sarcasm.
The denial.
The “stuck”
The house. What would happen.
The waste, the curse.
The hard work, and the change.
Change change change.
I needed a change. I needed it now.
UGH UGH
ZUG ZUG

I don’t lie to you when I tell you I’m worries.
I’m honest.
I lie to myself when I do nothing.
I block it out.
Blot it out. Spill the in-well over my thoughts.
Black it out.

I can’t.
Emotional labour. What I feel when I see you.
Each and every person chooses their own future.
I don’t know how much of an effect I can have over you.
You’ve broken each and every one of us.
Like we broke you when you bore us into this world.
You didn’t stop smoking when we were in your womb.
For that I will never forgive you.
You drank as well… you said.

You said you have been abused.
You told me once that you had sex with someone you didn’t want to.
That’s rape. You told me you didn’t want to have a child and you had an abortion once. You said you ran home to Australia when you found out you were pregnant.
How is your relationship with my father?
I think you guys bicker often.
Its pointless.
It could be so fruitful.
Instead you fight eachother.
Nothing to share. Long lasting memories.
History. Clashing personalities.
I wonder. I wonder at that often.
Your father died when you were young.
He was diabetic like you are.
Too much cake, too much sugar, not enough exercise.
I wanted to take you to the hospital today.
Belly swollen and tough.
You’ve been so sick.
The runs, diarrhea, sore and swollen feet.
Vomiting. Bleeding under your big toe nails. Capillaries shot.
Spots on your hands. Discolouration. The glass doesn’t need to be wiped clear.
J.R.R said it, and I don’t need it.
There is no mist, for this to be missed is sheer and frightening, blatant, willingful, ashamed ignorance. Delay. Deny. Misinform.

You sleep sitting upright. No circulation to your body from the waist down.
“you’ll lose your fucking legs” – I said.
“you’re freaking me out” – you said.

IM FREAKING YOU OUT?! YOU! Well its mutual.
This is sitting inside me. Taking up brain space.
My feelings. My thoughts. My waking ideas. My fears.
You will die.
Should I just run away?
No matter what i’ll cling to those happy memories I suppose.
Frozen in time. Parents are meant for that. Right?
“not so bad”. Maybe I think you’re brilliant because you are so useless and shit so much of the time. That family bond, keeps tugging, asking forgiveness.
Well permission to fucking help.
How can I change this lot.
This strand.
The STUCK. that you surround yourself with.
A happy life? I’ll see your doe eyes, yellow and fearful.
I know the glint will come and it wont break me. That will just fuel a fury in me. But that fury will be nothing to the sadness and sickness that will breed in my if I think that I could have done more. Could have helped.
I will lash out at everyone.
It could tear the family apart for me.
Stress. Anger.
Alone. You need to be stronger than you are.
I can be strong for you.
I want to ask of you to stay as healthy as you can for as long as you can.
Will you do that for me?
I don’t know how people guard against this?
I fear the end.
Your demise.
Fearing other people’s deaths.
My world.
Pulled through the eye of that early morning vacuum cleaner.
What does everyone else thing?
Yes yes yes… Just go about, potter, focus on your own life maybe she’ll sort out hers. If not. That’s life.
Contrary!
That is the death of that thinking.
That person is gone. If they matter to you cling to them like a limpet.
Do not suck from the nectar that they poison themselves with.
Abstain.
Fight. Tooth and nail.
Chipped and bitter as blood and sand as the world crumbles around you.
Cling tighter than the cold the devil would bring.
These ideas, paramount you know what you are fighting for.
True is your thinking. Pure is your resolve. Selfish and heartfelt.
Wanting for the ever waning strands of time in your lovedones seeps.
Ebbs.
I will not stand. I will hold.
I will hold you until yours and my knees buckle.
Do not dare give up.
Bend to my will. If I must put on the gloves and treat you as a child, like you once had to for me. I will carry you.
Tooth and nail.
Tears streaming down my face. I will not go ashen like I have.
That cold is the death of my love.
That cold is what comes down like the veil before dawn or dusk.

I ask you to stay with me.
Even though I have made my decision to go.
I can’t handle it anymore. Truth is, I never could.
I am a coward.
But I will spend time, willingly.
A minder, a carer, a son.
Stronger than any other damned person I know.
I will fight. Will you dig in?
Will you stand when I am gone?
Can you fight the world without me?
Are there other people you can rely?
I wish. I wish I wish I wish.
And it breaks my heart.

And so I run.
Run from it all.
Every day. I get high when I run.
And I pretend its ok.
Like we all do.
I will be strong.
Don’t break me.
Do not dare give up.
Listen to me.
Fight. And I will follow.
I will support and cheer and cherish the moments.

Survivors sickness.
Don’t.
You make me wretched.

Please, please don’t touch me.
Don’t come near me.
Don’t look at me.
I’m not in the same mood as you.
I want to be here. But give me time.
Time to adjust.
I can’t function if we’re immediately thrown into this instance.
This mood.
Mod.
Mode.
I need space and time.
I don’t know why.
I haven’t exercised.
Its raining.
I’ve eaten too much.
I need to rest.
Reset my brain.
Resent myself. Slow moving. Not dangerous.
So self reflective. Reflexive.
Sore knee. Boring.
Selfish.
Sell myself for fish.
Opportunity cost.
Terms of trade. Glaze.
Glasses, rose tinted.
Expenses. Chocolate.
Be honest to your creativity – lady gaga.
Culture.
Broader sense.
Travel. The world.
The need for money.
Shoe string budgets.
HRM.
Strategic human resource management.
Credit where credit is due.
Hard work. Studying. Food.
Shameless.
Sitting, slouching, bodies built to move.
Energy. Energy. Self start.
run and run and run and tuna.
Fish. Sellfish.
You couldn’t read, spell or pronounce sorbet.
Sure bet. Sure but.
But. Soreburt. Scoreburnt.
As I get to know you my feelings mish mash.
Mix match. Miss mash. Miss match.
I don’t know.
I don’t know
I don’t know.

What are you thinking about?
I’m thinking about justifying being a vegitarian.
This food tastes LIKE meat.
Why do you replicate it?
Why is that important?
What am I missing?
Where am I trying to posture myself here.
Intellectual dissonance.
Watching educational videos.
4-2-1.
Mathematics is not ready.
A moment in time.
Hungry for chocolate now.
Dieting another day.
Strange.
Chips. No no no.
Another time? Buy chips for all.
Want mayo. Need chilli sauce. Salt! Yes please.
We all live long enough to see ourselves become hippos.
Hippys. Hypocrites. Critics. Morons. Idiots. Stupid, dumb
daft, dreadful, wasters, poison, angry, confused, tired, fat, slobbish, narrow minded, alone, sacrificial, worthless, dying, imprints and cutouts.
Casts.
Moulds.
Mouldy.
Wretched.
Wrecked.
Wrung out.
Swinging.
Hanging. Dead.
Deathly, ghastly, mostly full, burdened, laden, wending, winding angry, painful, spitting, venomous, reliant, reptillain, coil, polio, sick, ill, will, fill, still, bill, duck, brill, drill still miss mill gill fist. gist. pissed.
Urine turbulence, turbine, natural oil and gasses. Gas like fuel for cars or cooking. Black pen. Puns. Work word jokes. Super likes. tinder feral tendancy.
More along than ever. Communication so so sos sosososososososoosoSOOSOSOSOSOSOSOSOSOS
ES OH ES.
S O S.! so so. save our souls. What souls? They aren’t real?
Nike advert. Its a joke about kids killing themselves. Its not funny.
I suppose its not a joke then. But it doesn’t stop it happening.
Communication is so difficult.
I find it hard to switch off. I don’t have the capacity sometimes to switch.
I’m in my world.
I have my ideas. My studies, my plans.
TIME TABLE. AGENDA. CUTE. fuckyoufuckyoufuckyou.

When is your book released? “excellent”.

So I didn’t get a parking ticket today.
I drove because I was too lazy to ask where the umbrellas were.
I got two blocks of chocolate that weren’t on special.
I defy you economics.
I defy you.

Her brain. On drugs.
Melbourne advice.
1000 pound bend. Best flatwhites on earth.

Omertà
A code of honour.
If I live, i’ll kill you. If I die, I fogive you.
A deaf, mute and blind you will live your life in peace.

Pizza isn’t memory.
Food is energy.
Energy allows for experiences.
Don’t complain abou food.
If you were starving…
At another time…
That would be the best pizza you’ve ever eaten.
You will not recall it.
Your mundance complaints are worthless.
You will die and on your death bed you will not think of that pizza, nor any food I would think. You will die and nothing you have consumed will have mattered.

We can’t have sex.
I’m on my period.
What do I say to that?
“ok”
“Why not”
“Gross”
“Lovely”
Your answer is a chess move.
Their reaction will be affected by your answer.
Mirrors for answers.
“Are you not comfortable with blood? With mess? Your body? Are you not in the mood? Are you just informing me”
What a shame.

You look like Ethan Hawke.
-Fuck. Off.

I look like me.

You think I look like someone you’ve seen on the telly.
What a strange thing to bring to my attention (everone, someone different, often)

Walk on stage. Pick up stool.
“Well… keep clapping otherwise you’re zombies and i’m outta here”

*pretend to have an eyeglass
Look at someone in the crowd.
Special skill: Use fake objects.

Its all hush hush.
Why do anything now when you can wait.
I’m uninspired.
Disenchanted.
I’m busy.
“WhenI have time, i’ll do what I want”.
Its sad. Truly ruly sad.

Miracle Max’s miricle pill!

Peel mandarines.
Cover in melted chocolate.
Presto!

I don’t know what’s wrong with my brain.
I don’t know why I did what I did.
I don’t like it.
I don’t condone it.
I don’t think it was right?
Or nice, or smart, or necessary.

I bought her a box of chocolates.
And thought of things to say.
I handed them over neatly,
And then whisked her away.
I spent all that money,
on a gift that was especially fancy.
I never buy gifts.
People never return those generous glimmers.
I’ve learnt that.
Don’t be kind, or something like that.
Rubs and rolls,
thunders and boils,
In the back of my mind.
But I did!
I bought her chocolates.
I rode home.
I reconsidered.
I thought “fuck it, i’ll keep them”
Then I thought again.
Why would I spend this much money on chocolate for myself.
What the hell is wrong with me.
This was a nice idea.
Be nice.
Full fill your promise.
Your thoughtful idea.
Considerate, appreciative boyfriend.
For all the things she does for me…
Like…
Nothing.
So we went out to dinner.
We split. With me paying the majority and drinking the least and driving the car and paying for fuel. Then we went to a comedy gig.
I bought the tickets.
So it was mostly me.
She was just there as a money sink. And company fodder.
We went home. We snuggled.
It was nice to have a warm body next to mine.
I was tired.
I rolled over and dreamt.
I awoke at 5.30 and went to work.
When I got home she sent me a message.
Her dog had eaten her chocolates.
“oh well, pets”.

Sure.
Shore. Sean.
Ice cold.
Ice addict.
This is cold cat. Robot heart bus.
Further, for the, future.
The violins. Play.
I sit next to the girl in class.
Light blonde hairs on her top lip.
Her mannerism strange to me.
Big eyes.
The stranger across from the kicks my foot.
Kicks again. Thinks nothing of it.
To me I AM, the bench.
A leg. A leg of a table.
Not the shoe, the underside of my foot.
I have a horrible taste in my mouth.
Work was a disaster this morning.
I was tired.
I need energy. Where is my motivation.
People, waiting. Wanting coffee.
Hot-chocolates.
The mixture.
The meddly, combination.
Combatants. Hot sweet war.
Victory of the senses.
Reverbarate. Static. Twinge.
Twang. Want of caffience!
The consciounce. conshiouns
Coushion Cusion. Cushions!
Electric. Base in the background.
Spelling inner most.
Innate
Inert.
Innumerable. Numbers.
Cold. Kyote. Ugly. Terrible spelling.
Spell bound, BOND,
Bound to misspell.
Up. Bound up. Tied. Tongue tied.
Sore wrist.
I look at my wrist.
I saw. I saw my wrist.
My wits.
Lack of wits.
Lack of wist.
Wistful.
Witsfull.
Full-witted.
Tired, sunless. Bored. Blatant, cold. stale, fat, nipples dragging, slappingly shit and fucking tired and scared and unmotivated and prideless and stupified.
Sitting, stagnant, solemn, music, reverb.
Glass. Collection. Anger. Art, poetry, infused.
The window of my life.
The glass of my soul.
Sold.
Refractions of light.
Collections of cool things, ideas.
Reflections of my life. What is work to me.
Bush doof.
Reflect. What can you SAY and learn from what you say.
That inner self.
That knowing, what you speak, speak the truth.
The idea. That you believe everyone “GETS”
But none get you.
Don’t be lazy. Put it out there.
Say what you must.
Explain well.
Reflect. and reflect and reflect.
And learn.
Sit pretty. Feet up.
Untired.
Untied.
Fucked. But not tired. Drained.
Needing of energy. Re-fuelled.
Played. Sucked dry.
She wants, she takes, leaves naught.
But for tomorrow as me and i’ll tell you with mute.
And expression, bitter taste, ash, pouring from my mind and mouth.
Blackness. Oil filled hole. The void.
Best avoided. Blinded. Bound and binded.
Ball and chain.
Rent in my head.
A hole. A space, for sale.
I could be good at that thing.
I have capabilities.
I have vanity.
I have. and have and have havehavehavehavehavehave heave-HO!

Tragic.
The morsel of my mind.
Off. Salted.
Stale. Oyster. Snot.
Glob.
Par.
Bashful smile.
He sits. Talking trash outside my window.
I wonder at that expression.
How curious.
How wasted was I.
My caring take on reality.
Thing. A thing I noticed.
The rage I spat out, in the jacuzzi.
Anger, shouting, crying, writhing, wailing, morbid, gross and grinding my teeth.
Raw, roiling, tumult.
A hack, perhaps.
Not smart or talented enough for that.
Say it and make it real.
Wasted. wasted wasted.
Icicle. Many syllable.
Poetic. Left hand writes.
Left hand rights.
Left hand rights. Left and right.
Right and left.
Left right.
Up right.
upright. Write up.
Down right.
Down write.
Write down. Left down.
Put down.
Put down.
Down put.
Down right
Left down,
Left down.
Left up.
Up left.
Upright.
Up right.
right right
Write up.
Left right
Can can.
Double.
Snake eyes.
Game over.
Games.
Economics.
Boards.
Bored.
Broad.
Sheet. Sheer. Sheep. Says. Stays. Strays. Saturdays. Stays. Splays. Sty. Scry. Sly. Spy. Sky. Shy. Smile. Sail. Sassy. Sad. Sun. Split. Sony. Serpent. Soil. Stump. Stole. Spelling.