Category: Uncategorized

Technical Forfeit

*Another one I wrote when I was a littlun found in an old college notebook from… I’m guessing I was 19?*

The glimmer of the screen on a Thursday afternoon
The burn of my skin as the projection seeps in
Drenched in a sea of anxity as the clock ticks
It’s only a matter of time untill we’re done for

She can’t undertsand the burden of the schedule
The fatcats havn’t prossesed the transition
I wish i could shower you with tickets and promises
But the accounts as empty as my heart

If the connections become severed you need to act
Send her a messege, send her a code, send her a reply
Cos if you don’t she will tear you appart from the inside
And the moment shall only be postponed

You must let the technical use you, you can’t let feeling win
You must know the technical, it can only know
Feeling will lie, feelings on her side, don’t forfit by default
You can’t lose on technicality, it’s all you’ve got now

A words like art are objective in this world
I would murder for the one chance to explain with words
Text is a mere image i can’t explain it anymore so
The divide shall only grow in time, interpritation is not on my side

What i’d do to be blessed by that golorius image
Of the green dot to terraform to the dotted bubble
These hours of scilence, have set my time in ice
Maybe you’ve understood, what i’ve been fighting for

You must let the technical use you, you can’t let feeling win
You must know the technical, it can only know
Feeling will lie, feelings on her side, don’t forfit by default
You can’t lose on technicality, it’s all you’ve got now

Shackled (W.I.P)

Another Wednesday night spent in solitary confinement
With the soulless drones that regulate the beer stained stools
Clutching my nectar with one hand
Sinking my fingers in L’Oreal tinted forests with the other
It’d be around this time I’d of gotten your call
Bet all our wages in on branded mental antiseptics
I’m sure we knew our smiles were never true
But stricken with the weekday blues, what else was there to do?

We’re all just a bunch of confused kids
Backed up against the walls of our own convictions
The stupid things we’ll do when we’re urged to make a choice
Monetary debts, emotional obligations and clueless detective work
We’ll hang out, in an ‘outdated since the naughties’ fashion
In after hours children’s parks, as if to inspire a sense of youth

Does the empty feeling ever stop?
Does being hollow ever go out of fashion?

Channelling the spirit of the Swedish brewery itself
With it’s export valiantly nestled in your hands
You’ll re-adjust your spectacles as your turn your glare skyward
As if you’ve just clocked on to the diamond moon at the shop window
Stamping your heels into the shreds of bark
You’ll make the vow you’ll never let this town get you down
And that you won’t stop until your writing smash winter fireplace hits
As the sunset rains in through the blinds of your shoebox
With such a scorch in your belly, a gleam in your eyes
I had to say you outshone the moon

So It breaks my belief; that a life can be well spent
When I still spot your shadows around this domain, well past the due date
Caressing the scars we left behind for a sense of comfort
Entertaining silhouettes like we didn’t notice each other instantly
It breaks my heart to say; but I think this town’s got us beat
We’re both already dead, I just don’t think we know it yet

Does the empty feeling ever stop?
Does being hollow ever go out of fashion?
Does the desolate feeling ever go away?
Does being vacant ever stop feeling so right?

You deserve better then this
You deserve better then us

Dynamite (W.I.P)

Under the constant gaze of those who provide asylum
She could never even leave a shred of evidence
Of the werelass she becomes underneath the full sun’s gaze
The sleeves come apart, the trousers rip at the seams
As she howls at the sky, as if the scare away the night
She fully intends to take them up on there offers
As she dips her fingertips and palms in the paint
She doesn’t intend to leave without making her mark known

Leaving the states of the vicarious older boys
Like an skip nesting outside of a vacant council estate
They’re free to take anything inside, now she’s hit the road
Oh yes she’s dynamite
Shooting the sun’s glare the brightest smile

With the eyes of ego, pried open by the audience’s cheer
She spots the horizons the self tried so hard to hide
She see’s there’s so much to analyse and more to learn
See’s there’s a plethora of hosts to act as her avatar
She sits on the pavement with blue eyes
And draws profiles with hustled patio chalk
She lays on the soil with green shirt
And spots constelations contrasting with the void

They slink home after they escape the virgins gaze
Hoisting their collars sky high to mask the war wounds
Reeling from agony the second their backs hit the shower
Oh yes she’s dynamite
Shooting the dimples in the ceiling the brightest smile

Lucid Wishes

When your awaiting the spectre of pastel filters to enter your vision
I only ask of one favour for the man of your physical world
To just spare a thought or two in your lucid gateways
A second in your subconscious will cement the meaning in the words

I just want to surf the scan lines of your imaginary world
Be a part of the centre of your hallucinations
At the forefront of your sack of inspirations
That you reach into when your captivating your audience with your directions

And if I materialize while you skim for captivation
I’d pray you’ll stop on the channel

When your laying face down on the mattress
I hope it’s my name you murmur into the fabric
While your toes twitch and sway
While your eyes flicker and project

Teen Angst Beach Ass Life

So hey, when I’m not working on writing the words and the things I’m usually messing around making mix-tapes, like tons and tons of mix-tapes like… I need a profitable hobby amount of mix-tapes.

I kind of get a bunch of tracks together with a flowing narrative and add A TON of Foley and Sound Effects to help drive the story along, to try and make it a bit more of an experience if you want it to be. I dunno since I’m 100% inspired by music when I write I thought maybe some of you could benefit from it too? Give it a good ol’ play 🙂

This mix-tape is one of the first ones I made (God knows how many ladies have a copy of the first draft of this thing) and it’s about finding romance at the beach, cos I was made to live and die fantasizing about the beach, anyways enjoy!

Teen Angst Beach Ass Life