Nothing fucking destroys my confidence like poetry slams, went to another one and yeah…… mmmmmmm haha I preformed ‘Will I Do, For You?‘
[ http://thetartanprelude.tumblr.com/post/147146779837/will-i-do-for-you ]
in case you were wondering, and yeah I’m shit performer and I fucking tanked the audience were um…. pretty savage

Like it’s shame on me cos I know what you guys like and what THEY the London crowd are two different tastes. But I guess maybe shame on me twice, I try so hard to fit in with them, doing little love notes in a OH MY GOD LIKE ME but it’s never enough for them, or anyone, or including myself. Its all too fake, fake in writing is great we all love fake. But there in front of people like…. I can never pull of fake, people smell the rat. But I guess It’s time for me to realise like being a weird shouty poet is my niche. Not doing poems about the coffee dates and sex illusions, but poetry where I shout milkshake a lot as an alagory for my life slipping out of my fingers. Not a poem about my dead nan, but poetry where I say one word a lot as a weird alagory for internet left wing culture. Not saying how I’ll write a letter to my 10 year old self, but screeching how Borderline and intrusive thoughts makes my life a shitter each day.

Like fuck the London crowd, tonight was my last nerve. Giving them what they want has got me nowhere, next time i’ll be more confident in what I like,and be as obnoxious and annoying as I possibly can. It’s goofy, but no less valid