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

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


I can’t call it what it is
My genetics haven’t earned that yet
I don’t know what you’d call it then
Maybe we ain’t gotta call it anything
Cos even without a name it’s marks made clear
The apprehension that colours the bar
As a Walkers crisps ash haired beauty comes through
Clashing teeth on her fraying wool
That’s just like a darling like you
I guess?
But I can’t help but feel you’ll make a mug of me
The blame for that rests a million miles from you
I don’t even need to think much about the one responsible
You can find her like an aging marble of Magdalene
Surrounded by eggshells of her own creation
Stuck on a menacing grin
All her declarations are interchangeable
All her loves are replaceable
That’s when affection loses it’s value
That’s when defection loses it’s weight
But without a source of verification
Who’s gonna verify that outside of the two of us?
Who’s gonna babysit the love that blooms?
I’ve been beaten down to the state of an infant
Burning any bridge I called my own
For a 1/100 odds of a pacifying narrative
Cos freedom isn’t the sobering conclusion it once were
Like a spatula on sunburn, it’s agony
How’s a spade a spade in a world like this?
How’s anyone chatting honestly under surveillance?
You hide the rouge tinted mitts behind your back
None of this is your handiwork you reiterate
I don’t see anyone else with the keys to my coat
If anxiety is the excuser of all malice
Then boy are WE all fucked!

Sebastian Noël

The Ballad

People can find familiarity in the strangest places
I think we’ve landed in the same funk you and I
Blind to the cheers sent our way
We can only see 2ft in front of us
And it all points to one burning question
Just what is the point of us?
Why are we so useless?
And where can we find the universes plan for us?

I’m a dreg with no means to rebel
I’m a teacher with no wisdom to impart
I’m a poet no one listens too
Baby do you ever feel so pointless
That you wonder why you were even born?
Maybe you feel it too?
Could it be we were destined for something so base
As keeping each other company tonight?

Hey you won’t hear me grouch for now
Not while the playlist’s going this strong!
Maybe I was made for dancing tonight
Highlighting the bias to adolescent anthems
As our chests collide to a Cribs single
Holding our potions for the night
“Hey, you running low on your White Russian?
I got the funds to fix you up for the rest of August”
Come on baby I’m begging you please
Just give me purpose for one night
Cut me up and put me back together
In any way your heart desires

Oh I don’t mean to sound morbid
But do you ever tired with just ‘you’ as a concept?
Same old dreams, same old destiny
No matter how you swerve on the road
You just end up at the same place as always
I just wanna mix and match myself until something sticks
Change my name, my gender, my race
Refusing to call one match-up undeniably me
Keep changing until something sticks
Keep changing till we’re heading somewhere else
Do you ever feel like that honey?
Then maybe we can help each other till we’re there

Sebastian Noël

†-dressing (W.I.P)

“You’re so damn polarising” they say
“Just tone it down” They always tell me
But it’s just too much fun this way
Pick out aspects from the bed sheets
I shouldn’t be out of the house
I shouldn’t be out of my room
They send me cheques in the mail telling me so
When just getting up’s rebelling, what’cha to do?

Do you just keep it to yourself
Try and get away with it in the crowd
Or do you proclaim it loudly?
Put 2 out of 100 on double work load
Neither one feels like the right way
Nothing steeped in sane logical thought ever does
If I’m a lost cause anyway who cares?
I’m a major league on BBC4 with no rule book

So what I do is give in to absolutely everything
Until the outside feels like the inside
Slap on the leggings and the microscopic shorts
Hidden by grandma’s manufactured hand-me-down
Trying to emulate the only people I’ve admired
Till I’m the person they turn to admire
Then maybe they’ll treat me like them too
So sweet, so pure, so sought after
Eyes burning through my sweater; a dream come true
Outlined by the dance floor every Friday night

For better or for worse…

A finger nail marking down my sides
And the Mayans secure my place in the cosmos
Cos I was never born to survive
A laundry list of conversation stoppers
A hasty count town timer
Exchange the blind eye for pricing sight
To delay the snuffing out of my light
Do you think I look beautiful tonight?
Do you think I got the hang of appropriating right?
Cos I was born to a club that only ever hurt me
If I didn’t want to kill them where they stood
I wanted to rip their fucking tongues out
Have you ever been attracted to what disgusts you?
As their stubble scratches you in the moonlight

I’ll think I’ll just stick to the Yin
But I can’t help but compete with ‘em
I want to be the them they want to be everyday
I want them to be terrified of picking an outfit, lest we clash
So I guess it’s back to Yang with every intent to replace
What I’d give to receive the love you give them
That last puppy in the pound level of attention
To erase life itself, till your the prettiest girl in the room
Hand on heart reciting the psychotics oath
Cos there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to get that love
I’d go from Mr to Mrs to back again
I’ll let you call me anything you want
Dress me like a doll, put me on parole
Just to be wanted, just to be found
To be the centre of attention
The apple of anyone’s eye
I tell you I’ll do absolutely anything
And that ain’t no lie

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