Theatricality. Is a word I learnt today.

Fourth Wall? What’s that?
I don’t write for an audience.
If I did, it would be for the 5th.
Blow, the, fucking, roof, right, off.
I’d scream-
Scream my ideas to the sky for what they’re worth.
Knock down all the walls.
Use your body as my stage.
A conquest of tomorrow’s disregard.

Fighting something at the moment.
Feeling well and truly in the bin.
Been on the academic wagon lately,
Struggling to find that balance between education, sunshine and happiness.
Feeling old. To rise tomorrow at 7. Me oh my!
I’m blaming all this on the fact I used a public toilet today.
Disgusting. haha

I thought to myself as I sat and read profanities on the closed door.
“If everyone wrote in toilet cubicles, there would be no room eventually”
“Where would the original cubicle writers turn?”
There are puns to be had there, but i’ll safe it up for a later date.

I’m concerned with my motivation for university at the moment.
A business degree! What a wonderful idea, I need to be practical and more hands on.
I need to work harder and save, I need to learn by doing.

Additionally:
I must practice French for my test in 2 days.
How would you say “freaking out” in French?
I don’t know…

Lay face down and watch nature.

Don’t worry when nature takes no time to look at you.
Its what you get. You are human and the few billion people like
me, like you, are out there doing the same thing.
Not paying attention.

Immerse yourself in their world as you please though!
Lay down with the dirt and the clumps of grass.
-Be patient-
Over time you’ll see, this little echo system.
Beetles. Bugs. Squirming, scuttling creatures right past your nose.
Hold your breath, its magical.
A new world you always kind of new about-
but never investigated.
How many worlds like this exist out there?
Only one world.
Outside, experience it.
Live it.

I’ve been feeling a bit stressed.

Last night I experienced fate.
I ate fruit, I saw a play, I laughed so hard with a friend I nearly puked.
I walked, and walked.
And said some vast things. And joked.
I said my ant joke. I literally cried.
I scared myself. I scared him.

I told him he needed to write down everything being said.
I told him he wrote in farts.
And when he didn’t write in farts he wrote in water.
This was hilarious.

Then I told him of my dream before coming out to see the play.

“TENDRILS”
Just a word. A really bright girl once used on me, to describe her own brain.
“Ugly!Beautiful! Word” I thought.
And so came about my dream:

Spiders of the Mind.

This dream begins like an MTV movie/music clip.
There is a ship, on water. Old.
Its foggy. And the water is passive.
The ship is like a galleon(maybe) with a sealed, single room hull.
The ship has cannon slots, or perhaps oar holes: up and down both sides.
This ship is still.
Connected to the ship are what look like spiders webs.
All the webs, dense and white they hang.
Sagging just above the water like elongated hammocks,
Connect to the ship through the many holes that otherwise fit the oars and cannons.
The camera is a goldy 3rd person, closing in on the ship.
The gloom is so thick.
When the camera looks like its going to hit the hull of the ship-
It passes into the single long stretch cabin.
There’s hay on the ground, and its a long narrow wooden ship hull.
Sitting in the middle of the ship cross legged is me.
My hair is white, some parts are braided.
Other bits are single strings. All taught.
Horizontal my hair is pulled and flowing out:
Out, the holes in the ship walls.
I am thinking.
These are my tendrils. A web of my ideas, my connection to the outside.
The world is at large outside of this ship.
The pictures’ exposer changes and everything lightens to bright white.
Pure white.
We refocus, *slow motion*.
My hair is being cut. My beautiful, white locks are clipped back to nothing.
Shaun.
There is a calm on my face and the tendrils that reach out of the ship sag.
Sagging into the water, these connections fade away to nothing.
Some splash and sink, but most fall gently and are gone.
Inside the hull of the ship its just me.
There lies some hair on the ground-
But it is no longer attached to my head.
I am alone with my thoughts, the world cannot share:
Cannot ask of me –
while I cannot experience.
Outside the ship is still.
The water is still.
The tendrils are cut.
I am a hermit.
Alone with my thoughts,
Away from the expectation of others.
Cross legged I sit.
Who cut my hair?
Where are my tendrils?
Am I at peace now?
What of the outside world?
Its not over, but there is nothing now.
My ship floats upon calm and foggy waters.
I have no cannons,
I have no oars.
My tendrils are cut,
Alone completely.
Waiting for new growth.
Thinking only, of the spiders of my mind.

***
Aditionally!

Some hilarious things were seen and said.
We saw a woman dressed, literally as a vagina
(for the lowest common denominators out there).

– If we could tie all the goings on of this evening into a bow. Tonight has been a gift.

-far out I wish my hands were as warm as pee

– flowerpress this evening, our movements/our words, paint them black and white, shrink it down and put it on a film slide. Do this for every day of your life. Watch that film. Then get the slides and overlap them. This is the pattern of your life.

-justify everything, over and over again. K-hole.

– I feel creaky inside

– Brain function. Explaining brain functions as they occur. Then have Deja Vous. Continue explaining, look left, active left side of brain. Look right, active right side of brain.
Think of every possible outcome of what you are saying, think both contexts, the contrasting reactions you may receive. Freak yourself out. Forget what you are saying, forget which reaction you received. Look left! Left side of brain.
Explain your terrible use of humour.
“Stop!”
“never mind! Its a witches hat”
“haha, sorry that wasn’t funny”
“Its called Witches hat Humour”
“Its like a baseline lowest form of comedy. You should avoid it, like sarcasm”
“like when you’re doing drils and you use witches hats”
“Drills…”
“Like tendrils”
“Yes, exactly that’s funny how that’s been linked”
“What are the chances? This adventure fells a bit like going from here to there, here to there…”
“Like exercise drills”
“Yeah”
“like we started our night there and now we’re here, going back there… like a drill”
“yeah…”
“I said everything in life is 50/50 before. Black and white you know?”
“yeah I remember”
“Well like, we made it from the play to the bar across town like I planned”
“but our plan was for both of us to meet my friend, but you went to the toilet and missed him”
“So like, instead of my plan failing… And instead of my plan succeeding… It’s half that!”
“HALF”
“so like… 50/50”
But complete and incomplete.
“But it’s not that black and white.
Is it?

…Loading.. Done.

Lying to her is a man on the telephone.
Saw straight through that fucking scam.

I’m pissed.
No. She’s pissed.
I’m amplified, severe. Grim.

“Sell yourself to a convict for a biscuit”
Spirit all over you, inside you.
Whore! Wretched! Moron, you disgust me.
Now we’ve embarked and we must try, stay afloat.

“partone”

A house adore’
Fire!
Lit up.
Two pits
Piss holes in the snow.
For eye.
Balcony now
Roof gone,
A starry
Ceiling
Blot out
With smoke
And heat-
Alight-
All gone, now
Flight,
Fick the switch
Not bad?
Negative…
Language-
Let go
I’m here!
In this-
Instant
Not forever
Now. Never.

I was asked to do something I didn’t want to do.
I was asked politely, with a bonecrusher.
I was asked to pay.

I ate an apple from the gutter today.

“She was a poem” – Twas the most beautiful thing I heard someone say aujourd’hui.

I’ve heard pretty lousy poems.
Some fairly airy, otherwise grand!
Most of my poems aren’t really poems.
Perhaps she’s from Thailand.

Put a pen between your teeth horizontal like.
You’re body will tell you it’s smiling.
But we all know you aren’t
The same thing that makes you a poor human makes me a rich person.
Like the tongue that seeks the missing tooth.
You yearn for your extracted youth.

(I cried later) its true, its not enough for me.
So I thought.
And here it will stay
Until someone cleans & scrapes,
All these thoughts away.

“WAXY”
A word that makes me-
melt, reshape myself.
A word with knowledge that knows no bounds!
Knows intelligence!
O’Slayer explain me the difference again.
WAX!
Hot so that it burns if you touch it before it settles.
Flakes if you try to polish it.
A scab.
I! Me! I want infinitesimal know-all.
Let on; the lure of one.
WAXY
To be everything you and I need right now.
Wouldn’t that be reassuring?

Let me try and be.
Let me BE!
Let me try-
waxy..
For there isn’t time in all the swirling skies for me to know it all.

Stress. I wish I found gum before I found that block of chocolate.
Resisted obligatory facebook status.
All in passing.
Passed.
I am a grown man,
I enjoy what I do.
I make choices.
I am driven.
I need to jog

Recent wisdom to bubble to my surface:
Everyone has got to come from somewhere.

How many times can I bite my tongue before I drown.
In a mood to share, bounce with childish excitement!
If only we could brew this energy for times of need.
It is in youths energy that we hold great reverence.
Optional
My silence;
…
I can take my speech from you. You may ask, and I could choose never to respond.

That is my power
Stand spellbound!
In silence.