I remember having tantrums at the age of twelve, looking at the prices of these things. Maybe it’s the music.
I remember all my muscles locking up, arms contorted, legs dove-toed. Knees helping me do this funny dance. It’s serious. Everyone can hear, everyone’s looking, this is being told to my grandparents. I’m a nancy boy, that’s what this is. This is because I’m spoilt.
All the blood I owned going to my head, water in my nose, water in my eyes, running into my mouth. I’m now panting and screaming, face wet and ruddy.
BUT. BUT. BUT. BUT. I WANT IT.YOU SAID. PLEASE. I JUST. I. I. I. I. W-W-WAN - MA-MA-MUM
How old am I now? I don’t know how old I am. All this is in my head now, I just stop talking and start running when something’s not what I want.
.
I wrote these during the week. They’re about different things. I feel like I have to introduce them a bit now, I won’t be doing this again, introducing things is stupid. Introducing people is important. Because once you’ve been introduced they can rip you off.
.
You Sound Like
.
What do you think
What is inside there
.
This is what I have to know
.
Square pegs in round holes, everyone.
.
Because I’m out of my depth,
again,
When you’re like me
And you can only pick up the kitchen-scraps
And wade through deep fogs, your voice echoing
And smell what could just be a hallucination
You’d be pleased to know what the secret is.
.
I’m only responsible for me,
and the emotions of a million other people
.
And when I said no,
I did it with the least emotion and care I’d ever used in my life
There’s a control panel somewhere
.
Famous last words
.
For Z
.
The liars
The liars are the ones who smile so
And become different people
I’ll be me
I left a beer bottle on your stairs
If your mother came home
that night and killed herself walking up them
I’d turn myself in
.
A lady on the mobile phone, as I left the train, my face in a book:
.
FUCKING HELL JOEL
THE FOOD ISN’T FOR ME
I’M NOT GOING TO BE EATING
IT’S FOR YOU!
GO AND GET THE FUCKING FOOD JOEL.
FUCKING HELL JOEL.
.
You know I’m starting to miss a lot of people I still talk to a lot.