Can’t Switch It Off

Oh I can’t switch it off no more
Logged off but I can’t switch it off
Hands over my ears but I can’t switch it off
No matter where I am I can’t switch it off anymore

How I supposed to switch it off now?
When every atom belong to every form of life
Is poised to guarantee my demise
They wanna see my gasping for my life
It sleeps in every god damn person alive
So why on the fuck would I ever switch it off?

I’m supposed to just switch it off?
Repress it all and happily play patty cake?
With my fellow man, when all the evidence
Points to that they can’t be reasoned with
Anecdotal, Historical, Psychological take your pick
It all shows the hands get thrown with a guarantee
The moment naïveté infects your common sense
And you get the feeling you can switch it off

How the fuck am I supposed to switch it off?
Logged off but how am I meant to switch it off?
Hands over my eyes but I can’t just switch it off!
No one like me made this far by switching it off

Behind every smile hides a killer, so hell no am I switching it off
Just so they can slug behind me under the guise of tolerance
And they decide at the drop to switch it off permanently
So never switch that shit off, take it from me
Don’t trust any fuck under any circumstances
Less you wanna add to another statistic
That spreads the melancholy to a wider range
You keep that shit switch ON. Till your days stop.

Sebastian Noël

I Don’t (Self) Care

Everytime I have the gall to feel dissatisfaction
At the cataclysmic pass rate I’ve achieved
That familiar little advice pops into my inbox
The one that implies little confidence is elixir
That unlocks all your widest dreams and reels them in
And makes all forms of loneliness redundant
Of course there’s a little summant in that
But I’ve been stargazing over the past few nights, and I wonder…

Is it so bad that It gets a little exhausting at times?
I know, lift your head high and all that
Take it from me: I’ve mastered the art
Of a love so selfish; Narcissus would blush
But it’s still a blow to your entire life
When your baby grimaces at your whole being

Cos it’s not the isolation that stings
That’s a wound well and truly self-inflicted
I’m not broken up about breaking up either
It’s the idea I’ve gone diving with the sharks again
And for the all the gashes and cuts, I’ve come up cheap
First Gold, then pounds and now merely pennies

It’s that feeling that years of love won’t protect you
From your special one treating you like chewing gum
Just something to be spat out, when the flavours unfamiliar
They’ll listen to enough whispers in the grapevine
Start to see your low maintenance in incredible highs
Start to tickle your guilt: For the unforgivable sin of being

No matter how intense our love had been
No matter the years of memories and affection we’ve built
It can all come undone in a matter of minutes
Cos my autisticness starts to become noticeable
Cos after a bad day, my disorders are too intense
“Why can’t you perform these ultimately inconsequential
Social acts exactly the same as everyone else?”
That’s an easy one: Cos no one’s cared before you honey

That’s the part that really starts to sting
Where a soap opera really turns into a tragedy
You can make yourself better if you’re an arsehole
You can spruce yourself up if you’ve gotten in a rut
But how does one feasibly address a review like that?
Time and time again romance only serves to prove
You’re only good for a temporary pit stop
A source of thrill and spills, before it’s back to work
Cos no one like you is forever

So my god, how I got self love in abundance
I got time for a staring contest with my reflection
But the fact I gotta reserve so much love from myself
Cos there’s no chance I’m getting any from my lovers
I daydream of the day that love comes with no drama
With someone who doesn’t wince at my neurology

Is it really an exercise in the art of surrender
To admit it leaves you tired every now and then?
Leaves you feeling an extra stone or two?
And after the fact, the idea of swimming for the social climate
Just to find another lover who leaves with a gag
After their vision starts to focus on who you really are?
Oh it just leaves me feeling a little tired is all
Makes me wanna take the summer off
And catch up on all the sleep I’ve missed out on
But of course that just delays the issue
So tell me how hard do I have to love myself?
Until someone sees that summant in me that I see
And how many people do I have to let down before I get there?

Sebastian Noël

Their Narrative (II)

I bellow and exhausted sigh
While flicking through the saved pics on my Nikon
That’s all the emotion I can muster these days
A far cry from the drunken nights slumped in alleyway

I recognise backdrops from Colchester all the way up to York
With each year since 2010 getting their spotlight
I can see old flames, lost loves and deserted comrades
Clinging to my shoulders, with me busting out the fingerguns

A heartbreak comes as no surprise anymore
Just an inevitable outcome
Of any satellite coming into orbit
A part of my cycle, till gravity dictates otherwise

Still got pictures of us all on the SD card
From posing on the London Ferry, to coming home from Mayfair
Or V-Festival; back when good people where on the roll call
I go through them all, like my final years in a nursing home

Mental illness can be a drain on merriment
You can do everything by the book
But all it takes is disturbing the precarious balance
And it’s the scapegoating that sours the whole thing

I just want to take the easy way out
Put all the blame on this psyche
Beat my personality to a bloody pulp
Until it looks like something you could love

It felt easier to just put “Abusive” on my business card
With zero critique, and call it a day
“Yes dear, even your tendency to entertain ableist ideas,
That’s my fault too” I say with a heart halfer then half

But I can’t just do it like that anymore
Out of character for me: But I’m putting value in living
That’s right! So now putting it all on the line
Just to keep you pristine, don’t feel worth it anymore

I’m mourning a severed connection tonight baby!
Not of you and I, but more with society
Yeah I’m sure it’s easy to make out you’re an isolated case
But this is rewrite number 6 of the same narrative
My reviewers are getting sick of the reprise
Oh I know, imagine how it feel living it?

Cos people like to play make believe
With my good old friend: BPD
Like he’s crawled out of the Black Lodge
Pulling my arm, planting a 44. in hand
Oh but I don’t think it’s pointing at you, oh no no
And in fact, the fingerprints would reveal something interesting

BPD isn’t the aggressor, I’ll tell you all
BPD is amassing a collections of little red flags
From the school of “Why aren’t you like sane man?”
And not running for the hills the second that quote lands
BPD is fool me 10 times, still shame on me
Just for the oft chance it’s just a phase
But you don’t like hearing that? Okay I hear you
I remember Goffman’s rules of Stigma, I get you
So I’ll admit I did put that pistol in your hands
And I gave you 4/5 odds you’d take the shot
But darling…. You didn’t have to take aim
You def didn’t have to pull the trigger
And for sure you didn’t need to hit my vitals
Now I’m on the floor bleeding for my life: That’s Borderline

I feel like the time I spent with you all was wonderful
I’ll look back on these selfies like monuments
My first. Kiss. Time. Fling. Both Mono and Poly.
They’re nodes in my timeline, like slices of Nirvana
During extended periods of solitude
But… I also make sure to keep them as reminders
A row of little Purple Hearts on my shelf
Proof of surviving the decade irregardless
And a warning for the decade to come
Of what it looks like, when your seen like a free ride

Sebastian Noël

Empathetic Generation

Another landlord slam’s the door on my face
Kindly introduces my arse to the public domain dirt
Only after digging around my files
Following an uncomfortable interrogation?
“I hear Borderline’s are mental, are you mental?
Will you go ape and wreck the whole house?
I worked with people who had it you know”
“Hang on, my question first: Who told you?”
Nothing to report there, keeping the mole anonymous
Just gotta take it on the chin I spose

But I know we’ve hit the empathic generation
When I regurgitate that tale in passing
And it’s left to weigh down the room
Back with a look of disgust

No contesting:
“Oh yeah? That didn’t actually happen”
No gaslighting:
“You sure you got that right mate?”
Just a “That sucks man.” With a swig of the brew
That’s enough empathy to make a grown man cry

– Sebastian Noël

Paranoid Patty: Jig Is Up (Draft)

The jig is up, the jacket’s off,
The sigh, cause and effect.
Ask me all you want, you know I’d never answer honestly.
Cos yes, maybe it was what you said that made me do it.
And if you see them, maybe it’s the only way to talk,
The only way you’ll listen without interrupting,
When I try improvising a verse together.
Cos I’ve never tried to speak about this before.

Something’s happening molecularly;
An absolute dissolution of my entire being.
People are closer then ever before,
But when they are, they don’t smile like before.
It used to give me a sense of purpose,
To give people the means to smile.
But people started to ask what I wanted too,
Now I’m at a loss for words.

Maybe what I want; you can’t give.
The fulfilment, the direction,
Something to put on my tombstone.
The support, the first response,
When the mind turns on itself.
The control, the peace,
As I learn to maintain myself.
It’s not fair to expect that from you.

He asked “then what can I give you?”
And it felt like a few seconds extended to hours.
I just nestled into his arm, as we lay on the settee,
Put my feet back in the blankets, as his cat lays on my lap.
Then it dawns on me the answer is: “Nothing.”
You’re just a spectator in the event called: Me.
You can’t be my hero, my mediator, you’re sort off; nothing.
Of course it doesn’t feel good to say that,
Plus I couldn’t even say no one else could be those things for me.
It really just… Depends

But for now, if you’ve a roof to cover me,
And there’s still a heart to occupy,
With a shit take away to fill our bellies
Maybe for now, that’s enough.

Sebastian Noël

Paranoid Patty: Decent

That’ll be £5.50 for the underground,
Just to come face to face with another educator,
As they deconstruct the many ways you fucked it this time.
Face sunk into your own scarf, revelling in your stench,
Clutching your Yabba-Fro-Chino, passing Euston.
Tastes like shit, makes your plasma pass at a snail’s rate,
Eons better than pushing trash down to avoid hunger.
Already feels like your insides are gonna give out.
Heart attack on the Hammersmith line, no hope there,
They’d sooner kick your corpse on the tracks to make it home.

The world around you is coming apart,
And that’s to say nothing of the world inside.
Millions of miles before anyone knows your name,
Even then it’s usually in infamy.
Ping! From your Facebook;
“Why can’t you come to this party you can’t afford?”
Ping! From your inbox;
“Why can’t you come home for xmas?
Fake a smile and share some crap food
With the very people who left the scars on your mind?”
She looks down, traces the cuts on her hands,
She wasn’t even sad when she made them last night.
She just wanted to get the same reaction from the outside,
As they’d give if they could see her insides.
The sigh from the bus driver, the looks from her classmates,
From being scared, broken and ruined.

She covers her mock exam results when she gets them.
She doesn’t wanna know if she’s fucked it all again.
She doesn’t wanna know if her momma were right.
She doesn’t wanna know if the voice in her head called it.
Little trip past the corner shop on her way home,
Maybe a little wine to shred time off this episode.
Gets to her room, collapsed in front of the screen.
She’s crying for help but she doesn’t know what she wants,
Cos she doesn’t believe when her friends say they miss her,
Cos she doesn’t believe it when her boy says he loves her.
What Sasquatch or deity is she looking for?
What they gotta say to make it all go away?
Her skin sags like it’s not connected to her body anymore,
Her psyche feels like 5 years out of sync.
Just reminds her she’s got no control of her body.
Anything she could be proud of is pouring from her fingers;
She can’t write any lines no more,
She can’t fuck to save her life no more,
And everytime she vocalises that, she makes someone cry.
So sit tight, mouth shut, as it all melts away.
Scratch your scalp as your hair’s coming out,
Readjust your eye as it’s falling from your sockets.
Your hearts beating extra drums out of sync,
Bed sheets ruined, as your life seeps out of your pores.
Finish the wine, try and lose consciousness for tonight,
Maybe it’ll be better tomorrow.

That’s what you said last night.

Sebastian Noël

Split [W.I.P]

I don’t wanna split, don’t wanna split
But everyone’s content with lying
The taste of Superman courses through the glands
But it’s more then a tap of the snooze button
Oh it’s more then a case of being present
And it takes a lot more time then you got to spare
And we mustn’t hate those who spit out the food
After biting of more then they knew they were chewing
Cos any hand outstretched, no matter how weak the grip
Was always put there with the purest of intentions

And even when you work your arse to the bone
Sometimes you just run out of the stuff
Time, Soul, Care or even Heart
We should only give what we can spare
Cos our throne’s are waiting at the summit
And we ain’t got very long to make the hike up there
People you see they just don’t wanna follow you
You hand them the water and it tastes like sewage
Only then do you stop to see the state of your arms
Covered in bruises and scratches
We all want to be the hero if it’s in our sights
But sometimes it kills you, and they just gotta wait

So I tell you again I really don’t wanna split
Even though you felt the need to lie
I really can’t stand to split again
Even though all you do is fucking lie
I don’t want to hurt anyone again
And it hurts to accept your help
As much as it hurts you to give to me
I guess I gotta stay patient


It’s strange to think one of the biggest criticizers of people with mental health problems are other people with mental health problems

Y’know the one’s the “I’m not like most _______” types, gagging for that NT diiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiick “PLEASE LET ME BE ONE OF YOU”

It’s like…. we’re all in the snake pit guys :L and you won’t get out smacking away your bother’s and sister’s hands to feel big