somedaylade

too many gawdy necklaces of inadequate words and awkward rhymes that wouldn't have looked good on her anyway...went to waste in the making of this boy. i have a confession to make...i may not be sober...man...i am a mutant...so so so very mutant right now...that means i'm not sober you asshole...hahaha... ok easy...cross your legs...smile...goofy smile...pop three pills in addition to your changed tuning and watch notting hill with a goofy guilty smile on your face...guilty pleasures...compare lives...the guy is too good looking...the girl looks like horse shit. that's not how it is in real life...i judge anybody who finds julia roberts attractive...she has a face like a horse. i have completely forgotten hahahahaaha...excellent.
i was thinking about something...stars are amazing creatures you know...they were able to figure out this extremely complex thing...my sister is laughing her ass off...there is no better sound than people laughing their asses of...she told me the other day that i'm stupid if i think they don't get it, that i'm "upset". woohoo...my family knows i've been upset...they can see right through me...scratch your head...scratch your nether regions...stars. stars are amazing creatures...they send out light a billion years ago...but their calculations are perfect...i mean they sent it out a billion years ago...they knew that if they sent it out that long ago, i would be able to see it sitting smoking in more ways than one, from the roof of my house. center of the universe...loser.
enter crying baby....i hate crying babies. everywhere i go...people are sucking milk out of other people...i'm living inside the national geographic channel goddamnit.
i can't remember yesterday so much...there is a load of shit that i'm supposed to do...exams...ohhh man...i like stars but the moon sucks...too big...scary...it might fall off damnit. what what what...six inch cross of algae...wear it around your neck...my friend asked me if i needed something....what was i complaining about...what do i want? if i knew that...i'd go get it. asshole. there are professional people for this...i really don't need to be analysed by amateurs...i will not remember writing this sentence...or this whole mess of crap...for one thing i can't get in this damn blog...there's some kind of error thing...i can write and post...but i can't go see...cannot find server...that's what'll happen on the day of reckoning...there'll be loads of noise and suddenly the screen of all existence will read...cannot find server, error ready...or april fool or something...and there'll be nothing...he who is left handed? pay close attention...because this might save you twenty years of therapy...there are no mixed messages...snatches from the television...people have to stop stealing my orkut profile...i will chop some nuts...and poof he's gone. listen close beautiful...anytime you're making excuses...the answer is...you don't deserve anything but applause for coming up with that sort of bullshit...ooh i have to listen to a song...subliminal messages for myself that i'm reading for the first time...i swear, maybe it's unconscious...see it doesn't really count if the girl is unconscious...hahahahaha...the other dayyyyyyyy...ok screw it i'll just listen to my own.
someone has just got to, burn these palaces to the floor...
someone has just got to, replace your stony heart with something more...
nobody could possibly like this bullshit...but i love it...see i don't get it...if aragorn was as ugly as tolkien insists he was...then how could he get the girl??? and no normal girl...an elf!!! that's like an immortal nymphomaniac...aragorn could not have been ugly. this burning in your eyes, will someday have to rise. man it's insane when you can't breathe for a couple of paranoid seconds.. mind jelly. i think i'll do whatever i want to...i mean i'm not getting any any any stupider...unless...lest...guest...all the things i see...things i wish to be...people who steal from me...profiles and other stuff...i will chop their nuts off...and sell them back at exhorbitant prices.
the woman who cleans our house is mortally afraid of me...she jumps and leaves any room that i enter...i don't get it...i have never spoken a single word to her...i don't look at her...in fact i don't think i'd be able to recognize her in a line up...insane...i'm scarier looking than i thought i was...woohoooo. too loud. die die die die die die die die die die die die die die die. type. one road...
i have another confession to make (this is the only line i remember) i get very jealous. loads of inappreciation never stopped me...and never will. so it doesn't count if the girl is unconscious and you didn't slip her anything...she's just sort of...asleep...
oddest thing...people of my type...the not very nicely packaged products of the something or the other...we're allowed to from afar...but not close up...i'm a door mat...but semi permeable...we're not allowed to stare when she's unconscious but that doesn't count...lean in...lean back...fall asleep...did you dream that??? think about it...did you memorize it??? yes i did. well?? what was it??? it was...soft and weird.

martin pale...flimsy whale.

stamp-on-lover.

apparently i'm not just betrayed by virgin whores.
joke.
one day in school, a boy who never used to smoke asked me for my cigarette. he didn't inhale deep but went into a relatively funny coughing fit. eyes streaming and all he managed to resurface...and after trying to breathe a bit of fresh air he said something so corny and paindoo that i shall refuse to let my ellusive memory forget.

bewafa sanam se to cigarette hi acha hai.
dil ko jalata hai...per labon pe to aata hai.

in honor of that...i won't rant today like an idiot but say just the one thing. Arwen my love...make sure you don't find yourself alone with me...ever or i shall suck your lips off. stamp-on-lover.

martin pale...will now set sail.

the sad lost boy is mad

i open my father's bedroom door and take the extension wire from the cabinet beneath the t.v. ...i tell him i need it...i will not use it again...i need to write something...i have a diary...then let us begin
there is no substitute for this in words and loveable elixirs of melodic sentences that will lead you and me astray and i find myself in school...the past has not been deleted...the loose bricks lie still where they lay but now they're a source of mirth, i look at them and laugh and play and all my friends are back...the classes are those same dungeons where i fell in love and the light is still as dim and pure as those few moments before sun rise. the trees are pictures...that's all i have, like snapshots in the family album. someone should've cried but i had found joy again...i was back where i belonged...and yet...i don't see familiar faces anymore...where did they go...? where are those faces hiding...? i was just sporting and laughing with them...they have left me here in this mad crowd...a man, i pick out of the crowd...i know this man...shiny knows this man because i told her...but he has a new face...he wants to hug me and touch me and love me but there is no love in his eyes...i am afraid...i know what he wants...snapshots in my mind's album...i have remade my world with snapshots...i am back where i belong...the trees, lit like nothing... absolutely nothing...goddamned absence of everything and yet i am back...but this man...i know what he wants...nobody will save me...nobody would believe me and i can't be saved...and i see their eyes and the happiness and the lust and the grief overshadowed by their ultimate need...i am shivering...my mind is jelly...i try to pry loose...i am followed...he will not let me go...i am trying my best...i swear i am...and then one person intervenes...i have seen him before too. i have loved him because i have believed that he could have and will save me...i have seen this man a thousand times...this short man with features so kind and a voice that will put me to sleep forever...this is the man in whose search i went to the psychiatrist...this small man...he intervenes...he takes the other man by the arm, pulls him aside...he will save me...he takes the other man aside...and he tells him how he has made this world for me...how he planted all these photographs of everything that is me and pasted them back as well as he could and has left them there for me to live in forever...he takes that man by the arm...that man ruined one life, he will not ruin another...hannibal lecter savagely bites him on the face and grunts like a mad man...i can hear the screams...louder and louder...they're not loud enough...they will get louder...all and everything...snapshots, misery, love, everything i am, is now in that scream...over powering. all consuming...i see myself and my life come to order in that person's chaotic shrieking...i have a fleeting vision of order in my room, in real life...the study table is in order...everything is perfect...there is nothing...but there is something...the shoes...the shoes are on the rug that i pray on...the rug that i still pray on...the screams are getting louder...they burn my insides, outsides, everywhere...explode this goddamn misery...kill that son of a bitch....i want hannibal to kill him...i want to sleep in his blood...breathe in it. the screams turn into a crescendo...i can hear pink floyd...i can hear..."the wall" playing somewhere, this is the background music of my misery...the original sound track of my shame...as loud as the screaming...the agony of that beast is what i breathe. i open my eyes...the screaming and the music still burning in my ears...i wake up and i see that i am still here...still in my room...those cigarettes lying by the box that laughs at me and asks me to find three numbers that fit the formula...the snapshots have faded...i am awake...i light up...i don't feel sick...i feel distant...hannibal will not save me...not in this life...it's too late for me in this life...this is why i went to the psychiatrist...but i could not tell him...and i can hear shiny tell me that i need help...is that all she would say to me?
i am dead. a wraith. i remember too much...and she feels nothing even though i see her to be like me...she is not...because i am insane and she is just an insane delusion. snapshots in the family album. so what else did you leave for me?
what else did you leave behind for me?
i can't cry...those screams should've followed me home...i want to sleep in his blood...and you will never know. you have a nicer, prettier life to live in and there is no love in shiny eyes.

yawn

sometimes when you sit in your mind, doing nothing in particular, just staring, you might notice a shift in the light...it gets brighter...shadows flicker across faces, racing to find new resting spots and you find something new...perhaps an underlined feature that had hitherto escaped your notice...and you feel something strange, like a bed bug under your nail, happily sucking away at your blood, smug in it's cozy corner, comfortable in the knowledge that it would never be found...but you have felt it...it will take a lot of beating before it gives in and dies...hateful little creature. i have seen many bedbugs...and i have killed most of them. i don't know if that means i won or not...but the point of it all has so far eluded me. i won't change my bed...you won't change your eating habits...let's dance.
candle light is the best...it won't let you get accustomed and keeps you on your toes...electricity has turned everything soft...i don't look for what she should anymore...at least not the five of us...you seem a bit lost...perhaps you need a hand...? you seem a bit confused...i think i'll take your hand...i can see the fear in your eyes and now i just want to rip your throat out...but nicely. i've come across people who lose their cool when they're supposed to be happy, they have their own way of going about carrying parcels for the lord of misery...complete nonsense...just bloody frustration and anger...betrayed by liars and whores...there we go...we're back...it always comes down to the same bullshit...stuck in a vicious cycle of hateful voices and misdirected anger and i swear if this miserable wretch doesn't get lost soon...i will lose my mind...but tell me one thing...when there's something wrong...does pressing harder ever help? punching away madly..is it the remote control's fault that the batteries are low? smacking the crap out of it won't help. of course it will...and then the old lady walks in with her fruity voice whispering all about the seven wonders of deceit...all she wants is money and nomatter how you dance, she will take it.
i need xanax...lots of it...
ever felt sick of touch? ever felt a cold shiver pass through you like a wave of electricity at the slightest unprovoked and unintentional contact...ever figure out why you can't figure it out? why do you smell treachery in their breath? two sounds we hate the most...the sound of water filling up a bucket...at high speed...falling a distance before ending up at the bottom with a bang that makes your insides squirm...and the other one...the sound of everything else...hahahaha...i have heard my heart beat faster than it should...lying face down...kill everyone...the death of a loved one is an excuse to not work...big wheels keep on turning when you know lesser mortals have committed fancier sins than you, us, we, them, they, shit...panic. complete loss of balance and you hear them banging at the door...shouting your name over and over again...what do they want? ugly children of ugly people...dirt...
there are types of dirt...the nice homely unavoidable filth you can get used to...you might not even notice it and even come to love it like a second skin...there's no difference until the lights turn brighter and those shadows race across to show you where they were and what they did and how they're moving on, leaving you just the same but filthier than before...and there's old dust...it covets old books...abandoned houses...hateful graves.
in the beginning, strings were made of metal, grime and bits of decaying skin that you left behind...but the sound changed, the strings changed...strictly business. shadows race across your pretty features and i stick a fork in your eyes...or at least i want to. the smell of incense in graveyards makes absolutely no sense to me...it's not a particularly nice smell...maybe it was before...but now it comes with images and sounds...maybe they should replace the standard "graveyard smell" every few years...so that a new smell can be put through the same torturous process and hooked up to your brain, so you know you smell the dead when you smell...why should the dead be subjected to this crap anyway? if you knew what i knew you'd never wear your shoes in the graveyard again. the other day we spent a good fifteen minutes staring at a bird knock a hole in a tree...the tree...one of the two...the guardians of a psychotic palace of novelty items that should've been sold or in the case of some...shot in the head. the funniest thing will eventually turn out to be a secret so nobody will laugh...at least not openly. i hate children right now. i have my moments though. every now and then a boy smarter than me asks me if i enjoy toying with people...if i am enjoying myself at the moment, but i really can't seem to answer because i have no words to explain this prevailing sensation of insane anger. i used to be worse but i mellowed out and remained mellow for many many years and then my brain got raped and everything came back...living in shame keeps you in check...you don't dare question and challenge the things you despise...shamelessness has brought me back where i started from...isn't that nice...no wonder there was peace for so long. since i'm going to leave anyway...i might as well take those goddamn pills and feel like the mellowness has returned...at the moment i feel reckless. i don't care if this leads to more trouble...if everyone should decide to leave...i think i'll wave.
once you've discovered a bedbug chewing on your flesh...the slightest sensation will make you turn your head... a cold shiver passes through your body and you frantically search everywhere for that phantom you are so sure exists...you won't find it...it's not there...that's what everyone says...so you just wave...go somewhere else to catch up on some much needed unparanoid sleep. i'm not sure who wins here...you or the bedbugs...but really...nobody cares...and it's best to get that sleep while you can because you're going to be up for a very long time smelling incense.

martin pale...back in jail.

the eagle has farted.

so...foggy...half in sleep. i just woke up...it's not an absolute term...waking up...haha.
there was this punk band...your typical american, contemporary, punk band...consisting of your typical american bitch-like boys...i think there was a concert being held in a large hall...now that i think about it, the hall was kind of like the hall in my old school...but this was america...loads of people...americans...chumpaango and i were in the hall...we weren't entirely sure what we were doing...just with the crowd...in the hall...and the lead singer type bitch-faced guy...he started getting the crowd roused up with pro-america banter...and then he stops and asks everybody to get up...salute...and say whatever he was saying "God bless america!" type bull crap...naturally we got up with the crowd...sort of feeling weird...conscious of the fact that we weren't entirely american...hahahaha...and then everybody would sit down again...and then rise again...people were enjoying this mindless freak show...surrounded by mutants i felt the need to not rise...so the lead singer guy gave me a look, that sort of said, "get off your ass bitch..."right so i quickly hopped up mumbling, "but this isn't even my country..." i think he heard what i said or at least a bit of it...and stood staring...so i sort of sighed...got up again...somehow put my left lef over my head around my neck haahaha...put my hands around my mouth like a make-shift mega phone and screamed louder than the rest of these bitches..."AMERICAAAAA..." and the crowd added their bit..."long live" or "God bless"...whatever...i kept it up...i enjoyed it...the lead singer guy was extremely pleased...nodding his head in approval...shouting vague obscenities...grabbed my nuts in approval (?) and i sat down. everybody was really pleased...evrything had gone fine...the show was going just fine...so naturally i got up and shouted louder than the last time, "I'M SORRY AMERICA...IT JUST WON'T WORK...SUCK MY NUTS..."
Chumpaango and i ran...screaming..."suck my nuts america..."
well actually we were sort of pushed and shoved out of the hall...security came after us...we were probably going to jail when i woke up feeling surprised and pleased.

bitch.

i am sitting next to a child...it's not a very pleasant looking child...in fact, even though it belongs to someone in whose veins runs the same type of blood as in mine (big deal)...i wouldn't mind if it died...this child...it talks too loud...it talks too much (yes i see the irony in that statement) to be quite...QUITE honest...i would not shed a single tear if this dear...departed.

"amma...amma...amma...AMMA..AMMA...AMMMA...AMMMAAA..AAMMMAAAA....?"

"merr gayy hai amma tumhari!!!! i whispered gently to it...

(it's crying in the background...but for some other reason...)

it always cries...it's a defected child i think...it talks with a strange accent...it is...four years old...i think it should now die. there's nothing more to see on this planet. i whispered to the child that its mother had died and it stared at me...it stared because i usually don't talk to it...at all...i just either pass it by, ignoring it completely or yell at it, suddenly and (to its mind) for no reason.
it started repeating its mantra again...amma amma amma amma...it's frustrating...the voice...it's like a cistrum (metallic "musical" instrument sort of like the can they use to wake you up in the middle of the night during ramzan) i don't hit children (maybe aknee to the face now and then but not regularly)...i destroy them mentally...and i derive a lot of pleasure from it...unless...the child looks like something i could stand to be around and not a snotty little brat...with loud goddamn vocal chords...loud...i hate loud ugly children...plus this bastard isn't very compliant...but since nearly all living creatures fear me...(i look like a wraith) i can usually get by with these...creatures...of satan...if it were mine...i would've killed it. or at least pulled its tongue out...or sew the lips shut...it's still crying in the background...for a third or fourth reason since the last one i gave it...
i find it hard to eat in the company of children...i always fear that i would throw up if i look at a child whilst eating...they are sick disgusting creatures...all children should die...except the non-ugly ones...i can't stress this point enough...a race of beautiful people...and wars would come to a sudden end...nobody would want to risk their pretty faces in a war...pretty people are more or less just cunts who wouldn't take a punch to the face...try it on edward norton in real life...or brad pitt...see if they don't start crying or piss their pants...so much for that. i was, three minutes ago...very happy about something...now i want to chew spleens. i'm probably the fastest fish eater i have ever met...spines don't stop me...nothing does...i can eat at least twice as fast as you or your father's mother. i am stuck in a house full of crying children...pregnant women...and some who just got done with their bit. it's enough to drive the insane, crazy.
a race of perfect people...generally, doctor hitler is blamed for coming up with this...philosophy haha...but in fact it originated in america...eugenics i mean...i was reading this book by michael crichton (state of fear) and in the end of that book there was a kind of author's note thing...he tells you all about how at one point in time the american elite decided that it was time to stop the undesirables from reproducing and mucking up the gene pool...the list of undesirables included handicapped people...slightly nuts people (such as me) blacks...and jews...leave us not forget jews...everyone wants them dead. so americans came up with ethnic cleansing...they would neutralise...(castrate if you will) the undesirables...no more filthy babies...no more problems...such as crime and illetracy...since it was america, it had the support of everybody...including h.g. wells...nobody gives a shit about what he wants though...but then...indeed it was the germans who took it a step further...they built these...houses where undesirables would be interviewed...and if found completely useless...led to a back room and gassed. an american organization funded the germans...right uptil the start of world war two. nobody knows about it...because nobody talks about it...all we now know is nazis are evil, stone cold bastards who killed jews (which is a bad thing? how?). americans are weird people...they don't seem to know anything...they're nearly as bad as jews. america is just one big jew fest...
sooner or later my eyes are going to close and i'm going to fall on my face. time for bed. you may as well ask what these bits of carrots are doing here...i just don't like carrots...feck them zzz. i wonder if crichton is a jew...

martin pale...sharp as a nail.

happy pervert.

i am especially fond of this poem...very new it is...but not that new...


Smile, turn and move away
Think another thought
So hey I sit here everyday
Two seconds is all I got.

I pretend I don’t remember
But I remember everything
I held on just a bit too long
Because I think I’ve heard you sing

So anyway you turn away
Within seconds disappear
I'm not too sure about what to say
But I’ll say something in your ear

I’m dodging what I mean to say
In case you get just what I mean
I’ll try again some other day
Use a trick you haven’t seen

It’s hard enough as it is
When you don’t even care
But the next time when you’re in my dream
Don’t bring your underwear.

I’m not saying that I’m asking for
Something you wouldn’t want
Just keep in mind when I am dead
You’ll be the one I haunt

Then as it is and as it were
You’ll change your clothes someday
My ghost will watch (shamelessly) while you
Smile, turn and move away.

haha martin pale...shameless and stale.

dreams and rants

hhahahaaha i found this bit of writing in my mess of crap...i remember writing this...i had returned from the squib's house...molly will know what i'm talking about because i didn't...this is funny and lame...nobody. acrid very acrid...hahaha.



what i wondered about most was would i ever be back again?
and as you read this and try to relate and try to imagine what exactly is it i'm talking about, you can't...because you are not me...you have not seen anything i have...you have not breathed anything i have...you have nothing and i am still happy.

as i walked back home i wondered...if i should try to get reaccustomed to the same old because i can't seem to figure out where it all went away, for how long, when it came back and if it would ever go away...one more dot away from insanity...

have you ever walked down stairs knowing that what you hear isn't really...or is reality anything but what your mind tells you? obviously...so i guess...i can flush my brain...now i'm just worried...time to go to sleep or something...but somebody always calls you back...what if you could never stop sneezing...what if the tiny voice in your head that chatters away constantly, without boundary, never really letting you find out exactly what it is that it wants you to know or keep guessing...you know life is messed up when the tiny voice in your head is saquib malik.

----------------------------------

i was a mutant at that point in time...oye...i am remembering a dream i had...it was just like a movie...it ended with chumpango and i climbing trees HAHAHA...I JUST remembered that...i dunno what sparked it...but it's coming back to me...excellent...i was...i remember...roof tops...climbing...loose shingles?? is that what they're called?? shingles...i remember a maze of roofs...somewhere...it was familiar...dogs...there was a large dog...it was trying to get at me...i remember, attempted slow motion biting...there was a store, a mall...we...there were other people...i caught a thief...he had stolen something...i was not sure what...it didn't seem reasonable at the time to care...but to just catch him and...the air was verypure in this place and the print...i mean i know...movieshave prints dreams do not...but dream was shot with a really good camera...i remember something...very vague...was there time in the sky? no i think that's something else...there was a balding man...old...you know your typical small, watery eyed, sweet old gentleman store slaesman person...guy...he was in the mall...in a particular department...i think he was the one who had been robbed...and he asked me not to tell anyone that i had caught the thief...i had brought the package back to this man...he asked me not to tell because it would just cause needless scandal...so i thought that was fine...but i told somebody anyway...or maybe i didn't and i did at the same time...dreams have an odd way of working...i'm really pleased i remembered this...because i had intended to...so then i told somebody about the theft...then something went wrong...they wanted to give me a reward...i brought them down to where the old man worked...he was in this small room...we're all in this mall...huge huge place...lots of little this's and thats's and what-nots...fresh air...excellent print...nice bland colours hahaha...dramlike state...a dream with a dream like state...they came with me...people...and then this guy panicked...the old man...he brought me inside the room and asked me if i had told anybody...and i said yes...i told him not to worry, the store manager people didn't mind...and he just freaks out at the mention of the manager people...and he tries to push me? i can't really say...but then i remember the end...the old man was trying to hide the package i had rescued...it was all torn up and the contents were visible...the manager people were dragging him out of the room...they were going to throw him out...apparently they knew something...hahahahahahahaahha...and then i looked at the package...mannnnnnnn...this dream was insanely real...it's like i was there...it's insane...so pleased...the package was all torn up...it was a white cardboard box...small...well, medium sized...it was all torn...hahaha there was crushed nutmeg in it...half of it was missing...some of it had been spilt...i could smell it in my dream...the nutmeg...the old man had been...maximizing his utility hahahaha. excellent...i love it when stuff comes back to me...i think this is when i kind of woke up and talked to a friend who wasn't there and saw alien hands groping at me from the corner of my eye...hahaha yeah it sounds ridiculous...but i can't bother to explain all that...you'll remember it now...but i didn't explain this well...so you might not. screw it...there'll be more dreams...

martin pale...out on bail.

the song bird

this is one of the first poems i wrote...i don't clearly remember why i wrote it...i think it might have been to show off...hahaha...no actually...i used to write all my poems for the last stanza back then. not that it's anything impressive or anything...but this is what i wrote before i decided to devote my time to writing about potty and its underscored importance in our lives.

the song bird.

raise those souls from the blessed creek
and let them flow in time
the olden days now lost we seek
unreal but they were mine

gilded cages built with love
bleeds the bird beneath the noon day sun
the flying dream was just a lying dove
slaves of slaves, masters of none

the thirst of pain in happy days
the glee in molten death you found
set the land all ablaze
let the war drums sound

bring me back those times of old
and let the souls now flow
the past is gone but old is gold
these moments you let go

the end will come in shades of grey
when winter fills with rage
the bird will fly yet one day
and leave behind his cage
------------------------

i just found this in "my documents" i don't usually keep stuff there...except mp3's. so how do you run off with a soggy front? we'll see...because this is uncomfortable. do you really think that was worth remembering???

martin pale...in dimrill dale.

rat fart.

And when it all just fades away to nothing
Turns the whites in your eyes to dust
The glitter of all those worldly possessions
Falls victim to the heavy hand of rust

But I can wait and I have done that
And I will do so until you arrive
When I have nothing else left to live for
You’ll be the reason why I’m still alive.

how pleasantly gay is that??? somebody will die of diabetes...crap. first it was a blow job for the economists and then a blow job for an illusion...suck on that for a while. bile.
i find solace in the word solace because that's what it's for...this was for toying with the general public and making sweet love to the antarctic...cold. cathartic. where did i read this word? tea party...band...music...haw haye...devil worshipping sons of bitches. i want to see the sun's bitch. i guess you're it when you decide to go live in the sahara...cricket...lost interest...pakistan/india...lost interest...financial mathematics...simple interest...no interest...no need to lose it...please...are you trying to shit with me? please take another sheet. and fill it up before you leave. shit shit shit...this is never going to end if i don't go to sleep...study eco...now you follow me. market...depending upon area and time...a place where buyers and sellers come and have a cup of tea. pinkies raised...symbolising fertility in whatever...lies.
my father asks me if he has to pay the tutor extra for six more days if he teaches for six more days...
labour = physical or mental exertion for the sake of monetary rewards...or you know what. going to school is not labour...it's just dumb...go sit in a class full of armpits and you're still the cleanest one after not bathing for a month...wish it were a joke...maybe in lums it is...but in skans...it is not...living, breathing, pile of old socks and jockstraps. not that bad...just bitter.
average cost, average variable cost, marginal cost, marginal revenue...no...no i just wrote this to help me remember...i'm in a hurry actually...this is the only time i'm up for praying...got to go pray...when i come back...i'll know what to do...fart.
yesterday a boy much smarter than me asked me if i enjoyed toying with people...of course not...what nonsense is that? which one of you squealed? martin? savage? peter? muk...feck.
kidding. there used to be this programme...father ted...it's one of the funniest things i have ever seen. apart from the mental image of my uncle leaving tiny turd piles with a single flower resting upon each, for my grandmother to find. he is somewhere in his late sixties...he doesn't do it anymore. what does " ; " do?
once or twice i thought about taking those pills...maybe i wouldn't wake up feeling like a bunch of people just beat the shit out of me with sticks...burning arms...heavy breathing...sensitivity to touch...of any sort. nausea...blah blooh. everything is an issue with this guy.
pretty boys get off easy. my people feel the sharp sting of fresh orange juice on shredded lips. bitter? what did i do yesterday...last night i watched this movie...the big white...every single actor in this movie was excellent...the director was practically flawless...and yet there was something missing...i mean it was a nice movie...but at the very end...i felt as if my time had been wasted...and somewhere in the middle i thought...what now? somewhere in the middle of something else i decided to leave because i was bored...i mean how long can you sit shelling peanuts when you know you're not going to be the one who eats them...? i don't like peanuts...unless they're salted...or covered in chocolate...i prefer the chocolate without.
i was telling the doctor about mind virginity. when you lose it...it's gone...time doesn't bring back mind virginity...maybe a swift kick to the crown with an iron shoe could...but not time.

But I can wait and I have done that
And I will do so until you arrive
When I have nothing else left to live for
You’ll be the reason why I’m still alive.

nope...not gay at all...just the after taste is bitter.

i get sprinkled with holy water a lot. my mother thinks i need it...depression...she asks me who has depression with God around? i have absolutely no idea. with nothing going on i have more to talk about than the average cost, average fixed cost, marginal cost, marginal revenue and we're back...goddamn economics and maths...hellfire and the 8th primary colour. my flesh feels tasty...i don't know why...i was scratching a bit of my leg and then i grabbed a bit of it and i ealised that it would taste really really good...a bit of garlic...some tomatoes...peas...onions...vinegar...i love vinegar. you can never have too much vinegar in your chicken when you're standing alone in the kitchen at night...really hungry...frying chicken...i love cooking chicken...especially naked chicken. hahahahaha. pepper...lots of pepper...you can't go wrong with pepper...just enough salt...not too much...i'm hungry now.

last night i thought i should smoke. i smoked. i decided to not smoke. i put the cigarette on its end...vertical you know...and i read a bit more. i hate the smell of cigarette smoke when i don't want it. it's sick...it makes me sick...sick sticks...satan's dildo is what cigarettes are. so i hissed "shut up" at it. after a while it did...and yet nobody believes that i'm gifted with juicy fruits.

psy------

why i didn't let my mother sit with me whilst i talked to the psychiatrist is the topic under discussion in my house right now...(there's always something silly to discuss) what is wrong with him?? what don't we know?? my father did not accompany me (naturally)...he doesn't do that sort of thing...which is one of the few things i like about the guy...but then he has to fart around complaining about how my mother should've insisted upon getting to sit in the room with me and the other idiot and learn what it was that i said to the psychiatrist because "we are his parents and have a right to know..." screaming is lovely...but only in war movies.

i will not go again...because i was too easy...because i knew i'd only go once...so i was really easy...he got to me...in fact...now that i think about it...sanely...haha...the guy got to me...he used a simple but effective technique...very weldone...up yours...you will not see me again...i lose.
so how did he get to me? quite simply he did the exact same thing that he should've done to get me angry...he patronised me...and i...like the fool that i am...got angry. i told him that this was obviously "useless and i don't think you can help me man..."
"was it a word i used? you don't trust me? did i say something wrong? you don't trust me?"
and i smiled...wide...i had been duped...suck my nuts. but since afterall...this was going to be the last...i keep repeating that to myself...the last time i'd be going there...i told him...skimming gently over the surface of drugs and Alevels...more drugs...a bit more than most know about...a bit more...you know? you are messed up and a liar. everyone knows about it. but not everyone...so that's okay then...yeah right.
the shrink had asked me what the matter was...so i asked my mother to leave...and she left...and i stared suspiciously at the door...realising that i must seem psychotic or paranoid...but it had to be done...my mother can get inquisitive...ok i was paranoid...very...i became...a typical...patient...how...mediocre...man i could've had so much fun with this guy...IF we weren't paying 800 per visit...i was not coming back again...i had decided that before i had decided to go.

so eventually after bits of raining crap and annoyance we get to the good stuff...

"what does doing (woh wala drug) feel like?"
"ahista bolo yaar...maeri maa durwazay ke bahir kharri ho gi..."
"er...(whisper) what does doing woh wala drug feel like?"
"it feels......pretty good actually...you feel alone...but just as alone as you should."

i feel violated...this is rape...i should lean forwards and bite his face off.

"but what about (woh wala) what was it? how many times did you do that?"
"ahis0ta bolo yaaaaaaaaaar...bhai yaaaaaaaaaaar...bhai yaaar..."

i'm obviously more messed up then i thought i was...

"i don't think sounds can go out...it's ok..."
"that's what you think...kher...6 times."
"exactly...what is this...could you give me the spellings...?"
"right...en you tee em ee gee...it's a spice." i smiled here...nobody knows about it...i shouldn't have said it...this was a nice little secret...are you crazy...the whole planet knows about it...except this loser...i feel violated...

censor this bullshit...for the love of jesus and the seven dwarfs...

what is wrong with him? what did he tell him that he did not tell us?

"have you ever taken drugs??" i really wanted to know so i asked him...it was a childish question...what i should've asked him was...so are you what normal people are like? but i had one visit...no time for play.
"i...have smoked cigarettes..."
"hahahaa...dude you know nothing."
"i've seen...a lot of drugees..."
"hahahaha bhai yaar...i saw a lot of drugees...i saw drugees for three years before i ever indulged...there is no comparison...you obviously have no idea."
"didn't you prefer it that way? when you didn't actually take them and instead just observed...?"

(kabaddi kabaddi kabaddi)

"there is no difference...it's exactly the same..."
"i see...so being addicted doesn't change anything?"
"they're not addictive..."
"you're only saying that because of the drugs..."
"you don't know...you do (falana wala drug) and you feel the urge the next day...but the day after next it's gone...you don't even remember...i haven't taken (yrhuythwth) for a long time"
"then what did (falana wala drug) do?"
"nothing...escape for five minutes...nothing else..."

excuse me...are you spacing out? do you suddenly feel the need to laugh?? how odd...you must be a mutant.

"what do you want me to tell your mother??"
"are you crazy?? you don't tell her anything...you're a psychiatrist aren't you?"
"haha...no i meant...this will remain private but what do you want me to tell your mother...she'll want to know if her son is ok..."
"i don't care...whatever you want..."

there was a lot of kabaddi...but i was not difficult...i insulted him once or twice...got angry once or twice...laughed...made a joke...said "i don't know" many times...many many times...kabaddi kabaddi kabaddi...it was amusing...

"does anybody at home understand you or your problems?"
"yeah...the doctor...we have a good time comparing symptoms of insanity..."
"does anybody know that you've done drugs?"
"no...my cousin does...friend..."
"how's the doctor?"
"fine...i don't intend to come here again...so make this worth my time..."
"hhaha...it's up to you...i can't force you to...but doctor patient relation ships...are important and we can't build one with just one session..."

voodoo mumbo jumbo crap...suck my nuts...eat my piss...

"you have to trust me...you know...do you trust anybody?"
"hahaha..."
"i've had experience with a lot of people who use ecstacy and hash...etc..."
"ahan."

my mother had told him that i took xanax...hahahahaha

"i'll suggest a medicine..."
"what medicine? i took that zoloft you suggested to the doctor...it's complete shit...enjoyable for three hours...and then i spent three days in a lot of pain..."
"you experimented with medicine i prescribed..."
"maybe...what medicine are you suggesting?" (how lame...this is not kabaddi...this is sodomy...)
"wizen...it's NOT an anti depressant..."
"then what is it??"

blah blooh...crap bullshit...nuisance boredom...how do you sleep...i sleep fine...how do you sleep...i sleep like shit...emotional problems? i think i'll just smile and humour the vague nature of the question...mujhe kya pata...do you have friends? yes. do you meet them. no. why not? i don't have time. what time in the morning do you wake up? i don't usually fall asleep till morning...
what're you doing? skans. skans? accountancy. do you go to school. yeah. do you want to? i wanted to be a doctor. why aren't you a doctor? mujhe kya pata...mcat...blah blooh sixth form bullshit Alevels...gonads...shit...vomit...hate.

basically...everything was punctuated with nonsense and tender voidedness ahahaha...some things i can't recall...somethings i can't be sure of...it's hazy now...this is hazy...i am hazy at the moment...ten days till final exams...tense up bitch.

Risperidone (Belivon®, Rispen®, Risperdal® in the United States) is an atypical antipsychotic medication. It is most often used to treat delusional psychosis (including schizophrenia), but risperidone (like other atypical antipsychotics) is also used to treat some forms of bipolar disorder and psychotic depression.
Generally lower doses are used for autistic spectrum disorders than are used for schizophrenia and other forms of psychosis; risperidone has received a not approved letter from the FDA for use in Autism. [1]
Risperidone is now the most commonly prescribed antipsychotic medication in the United States

this is wizen...risperidone...risperidone...

"you probably won't take this medicine...because of the side effects...but...it's up to you...if you want to be like you used to...you have to take this..."
"i probably won't."

i will not take this drug...this drug is shit...the side effects are shit...
the doctor told me not to see the side effects...it's never a good idea to look into your medicine...because when you know what kind of poison they're going to give you...you decide...being a wraith is perfect.

i don't remember a lot...these bastards have to stop shouting though...

"i really enjoyed meeting you umer...you're a nice boy...i have enjoyed meeting you."

i must be one of those typical loons who bring back fond memories of text books and basic psychology classes...

martin pale...will not inhale.

awake my child...

when i opened my eyes, i felt insanely cold. instinctively my eye-balls scratched around in their sockets to find the wall clock, but even before i had managed that, i knew it was too late. 6:30 too late... i lay in my nest watching cold waves pass across the surface of the ceiling...yeah i actually did. breathing strange. i felt...i felt an angel pierce my chest slowly with a very pretty knife. i swallowed satisfying quantities of my own cold blood and it felt right...so damn right...just like love. my arms burnt...my head was on fire...swallowing blood...spit it out...gargle...let it drip down the side of your mouth...swallow some more...why does it taste so nice? ?this is blood, it should be metallic...and sick...cold uncongealed blood satisfies my thirst and even before i forced myself to get up and feel the temors break me into a billion pieces infront of the mirror, i had known that my eyes would be red. i was right.

hahahahahaha...time to go...tutorrrrrrrrrrr...maths...red eyes nausea and all...run off my love...run off to play.

I HATE NAUSEA...bloody hell...nausea hassan rukh rahha hoon main apni baiti ka naam...LAANAT!!!!!!!!

i have exams soon...no time for idle chit chat..then what are you sitting here typing ddddddddddddddddddddddd
kill
ferpectly normal...normal khan...

shit. cold waves on the ceiling...lovely...watch them glide...so delicate...cloudy and nice...and nausea. i'm sick of this goddamn blog. i'msick of internet and you...I'M SICK OF YOU...martin pale...i want to use you and your curly hair like a toilet brush.
children will go and die NOW.
night.

324-pgrp=lurve

i did not sleep all night...i don't know what i am doing henceforth so...please excuse me my love...but i am going to compose a rather perverted but horrible romantic...or not...poem about you...keep in mind...or reemember that you have to sing it like terrapin bitch...soo mellow...i'm goiing to start drooling now...so...let's begin the poeming...thing...hahaha/////// jesus didn't die. i did. i'll call this poem 324-pgrp=lurve


i have no answers but i could do
a lot of research and then screw you

coz i know that,
you are my venus stew

i'd sing this song and floop your ear
then have a good time with your rear

coz i know that,
you are my venus stew

humping shumping, moon is sunking
time to go to hell but i think
one last time i'll have a look and
'bout your eyes i'll write a book and
go home
feeling newwwwwwwwwww

i'm kind of sleepy and so are you
let's take a nap, make some babies toooooooo

coz i know that,
you are my venus stew

i could be drunk or a crazy fool
but since you love me it's all cool...

coz i know that,
you are my venus stew

filling up the void and start to
make a piece of art about you
suck upon your nether region
coz you know you are my peegion
i will come
and so will youuuuuuuu

coz i know that,
you are my venus stewwwwwwwwwwwwwww

woolium in a sheep's clothing.

i have learnt to not bite my calluses off...and it's ironic that just before i typed this sentence i was unconsciously biting my callus off...which...i mean if someone else were doing it...i'd be grossed out of my skin...but no...actually this was more or less an isolated incident...i have, over all...learnt to live with calluses...calluses are imporant...unless you have an electric guitar...and everybody can't have that. i don't think i should buy one...i will though eventually...when i have the money and more importantly when i fall in love with a lefty guitar...it has to be love at first sight...otherwise nothing will be disappointing. i made this drawing...i am drawinger...
i read a book of words last night...or a couple of hours ago...i had to run away because i nearly got caught...sounds of coughing...shuffling feet...the lamp turned on and i bolted like a rabbit...i roamed the dark drawing room...(wraith i tell you) and then i was in my room dancing with a spider...spider...right so i had my drumsticks (two unusually large misvaaks) and i tapped them around the spider...who freaked out and started jumping...this was what i was cruelly referring to as "dancing..." eventually...i decided that i had to kill it. i don't enjoy that. it just doesn't feel very nice...but be that as it may, i did kill it...and then i tried to sleep...thinking about the book of words i realised...i couldn't have read anymore...because...i have to write. all my loves write to themselves and let others read or not what they will. will. woolium...
woolium...
woolium in a sheep's clothing...writes to self...painting pretty pictures out of words...words that can make you drunk because they are strange...unheard of but very visual...and if i could make a tune to those words...i would...but wooliummmmmmmmmm...yum...so strange. half of wooliums words seem to have come from this place that i've been or am in...familiar...you can taste them...visions of quiet...quietttttttt...crazy...drives you nutty...
and then there's the book of words...but the crownless will again be king...i'm sure...he may not want the thrown...but the thrown...will want him...
back to woolium though...hahahaha...ok full stop...woolium might get diabetes. lord knows i'd suck the sugar out hahahahahaahaha gross...man i don't have much but i have enough...
apparently i am cheap and it is okay to be cheap...very cheap...
NAHIN MAINAY NAHIN KERNI WALK EHHHHHHHHPRRRRRRRRRRRTTTTTTT.
right so that's out of the system...just like the little bit of porn story i wrote below this piece of nonsense...however there's one more thing...i fell asleep...the other day...and i dreamt...as is usual...and when i got up this phrase was stuck in my mind. "i do not wander too far away from my heart." i'm not sure exactly in what context this was supposed to be taken in...because i cannot remember the dream itself...if there ever really was one surrounding this phrase...sometimes i wake up with songs playing in my head or tunes...but this was just a phrase on 'repeat'...until i noticed it.
i took my time to notice it...
cheap...yes...i am cheap. and yet, no buyers... (that was...cheap)
see i don't bite my calluses off...but when summers turn into winters or vice versa...i lose them...and i have to go through the whole mess of crap before i get them back again for the season...it's not like i do much with them though...one other thing that i've learnt to accept is mediocrity...ok sure every now and then i get the urge to you know what but then i simmer down again and go crawl back into my nest and and wait for other mutant crows to realise what the heck is wrong with them so then i'll have company...i have to shave my pubes.
my skin is yellowing...but it's still not that bad...the point where it seems to be so decayed and thin that you could just peel it off and lick your own uncovered flesh or pass it over a flame and have lunch...naked lunch that would be...ok so the imagery may be gross...and cheap...mediocre...but it lives in my ass. just trying to shake the shit off is all.
i don't seem to have a point at the moment...but now i remember...i think i used the word suposedant...somewhere in this blog...let me clarify...supposedant is not a real word...i won't tell you how it came to be but i'll assume that it made sense at that point in time...when i was obviously more mutant than boy. if i told you that i have not changed my clothes once since i started this blog...what would you do?
i would say that i expected nothing else of you...wraith.

odd behaviour.

it might make sense to spend the night staring at the ceiling ok...ok...forget it...this is going to be graphic...ahem...begin...

* * * *
(dark... breathing...silence...silence...silence...breathing...) *giggle*

are you alright? i can't hear you breathe...
shuddup...go to sleep.
i think i'll check...just in case...if you're alive or not.
(dark...hand...slide...cover...touch...soft) *SLAP*!!!
!!!!!!!I'm just trying to see if you're breathing or not...i think you may be having a cardiac arrest...i studied medicine in Alevels.!!!!!!!
(dark...hand...slide...cover...touch...soft, grope...soft, grab...quick!!) *SLAP!!! giggle*
i'm trying to save you goddamnit!!!
...get off ov me...and don't try that again if you value your life!!!!!

Er...i really don't...
(grope...grab...soft...floopy...giggle...dark...slap...giggle...grope...flip...right side up?)
WHOA!!! hold on a bit...how did that go...repeat please...
er...i'm not...entirely sure if i could...
REPEAT PLEASE...
(grope grab...italics?? odd...giggle...flip...upside down?...what? excellent)
...you do realise that i'm not a willing participant in this...right??
i'm sure i don't care...
(grope...grab...insane...giggle...wait...interesting...merge...one...float...suspend...infinite...suspend)
WHOA!!!!! whoa...
yeah...i know...

(dark...breathing...silence...silence... silence...breathing.)
er...you have pretty eyes...
get lost...
you taste of lemons...
are you kidding??
er...

(dark...silence...silence...silence...breathing...)
er...are you alright? i don't hear you breathing...)
good grief...
much love though right?
much love...


yours truly,
martin pale...this was just gross and weird and does not reflect goodly on me. haha

milk and honey.

sometimes when you freak out there is nothing. you turn but there's no fingers, hands, ropes or ladders, just hollow eyes that have fear posted in them. you sneak out of your shell and ask for a loan of rest and realise that there is no room for it. grab at it. anything will do...vomit...cover up the floor with newspapers...cologne...spray...smoke...die a bit more...milk? honey? slap yourself on the face and try not to fall asleep...sleep is bad unless you can afford to run away...exams...i sleep 14 hours during exams...but sometimes when you freak out there's nothing to grab hold of...hide your shame. you can't shed a tear...hide your pain...are you different then? hide your brain...because they will be unable to forgive you if they find you out of reach. productivity theory of insanity...
stomach aches and spacing out. maybe you should leave. you have to get used to throwing up in new places and let go of the privacy of your own toilet. you are messed up and a liar. everyone knows about it. they will be unable to forgive...so don't let them believe what they know...plastic smiles... like a wraith you walk around empty rooms at night...hoping you won't realise when the sweet nubmness of cold will take you away for a silent joy ride of misery and insolent images that will burn in your eyes for the rest of your many lives...sweet short term memory...kill it before you find yourself browsing through your sins and tasting them one by one all over again. just hand the baby back silly...it was never yours to begin with...you are too lost to lead a stranger in a strange land where nobody is welcome but everyone finds a grave...you can't be the slave master... after a lot of consideration...contemplation...mindless bantering...involuntary hand gestures and delayed reactions to controlled experiments you finally figure that there are four elements, fire, water, earth and wind...if only you had a heart...captain planet would've saved you.
the power is not yours. funny. television is a lie. these people with smiling faces are not real...look hard. stare. spend hours staring at smoke rising from the wreck. when did you fall asleep? why are you still alive...and you throw up again...cover it up with newspapers...cologne...spray...smoke...die a bit more...milk? honey? that's really funny...you're stuck my friend...and you know you better not wish for relief...it's too late...you won't be welcome...you will find a grave...slaves of spending money with pockets full of spare change...feed the hungry with what you will and the circle is complete...slave masters and broken wings of butterflies...smiling mothers who hide their fright. bring them another slave. what are you thinking? show me everything...everything...sing to me because i love your voice...but please don't let me fall asleep. i am greedy...i want to keep listening now. and the voice over the intercom shouts out and you know. you have two minutes...make up your mind.

martin pale...lost in a gale.

creamation of pants

i just had the urge to say the following to my mother, "pyaari lug rahhi hai tu aaj burrhiya..."
i think i'll save that for her birthday. i have no idea when her birthday is. but this is the sort of thing i say often...apart from "burrhiya...ja maeray liyye bhang wala dood le ker aa...ja shabash." she never complies. this is why they can never tell when i'm sober or not.
i was trying to fall asleep...i lay in bed for hours...by bed i mean the nest i have made for myself on the floor...not the actual bed...i do not sleep on beds alone as a rule...unless it's a disease...this could have two meanings...or none. what a load of bullshit. it's 6 in the morning...i can't sleep.
probably need my pills...but tonight i decided to use my old 'tried and tested' method of curing insomnia. this method requires you to think about all the pretty girls you have come across... in order of appreciation or otherwise...and do stuff to them inside your head that they would never let you do in real life...even if i write this sentence a million times...i would never care for it...because the sentence i like goes something like this,
"wazzup maen?"

so anyhoo...from shiny to breakfast, lunch, and dinner found in airports, stations, dreams, hallucinations, uzbekistan and khalida riyasat...the one who died on me and married somebody else before she committed that horrendous sin. to be quite honest...picturing khalida riyasat would just be disturbing...i mean seriously...i'm too sober to write this...no khalida riyasat was my partner in deceit and nothing more than a creation of cancer worth appreciation of boy.
shiny...ahem...no, we don't touch that one...moving on...much love though.
breakfast, lunch, dinner...dinner...boys at dinners look better in mirrors...at least to themselves...it is widely...(nine metres) known that i am gay...i am not...i can prove it...and whilst proving my non gayness i shall also prove that xanax does not cause loss of erections...you need not worry my love...it's not like i'm ever going to do anything constructive with it anyway.
i have been to minigolf twice in my life. minigolf...a place filled with people who are not aware of the fact that they are not worth a regular sized golf course.
the first time i went there was with my cousin...i sat in silence and watched him smoke.
the second time i went there was with my boarder friends...i sat in silence and watched them smoke. i enjoyed the second time for two reasons...i was in good company...i had 'chicken boobs with cheese' to eat...and eat i did. we sat on this elevated...platform...thing...there was a pool table up ahead...elevated,platform,shack, in this weird shack thing...when i'm unsure of what i'm saying i end it with the word "thing" now you know...leave me alone. also... i have no words to describe something which is neither good nor bad...so i use the word "weird" a lot...i'm leaving these instructions for myself so that in a month when i've lost enough of my mind to not remember how i used to write and what i mean by something...i'll...for the love of God...i swear i don't remember what i just wrote...i have to learn to type whilst looking at the monitor...and i have to learn to not delete an entire sentence in order to get at one...one shitty thing...just use the mouse...louse. so anyhoo...i see i was in the shack place with the pool tables...there was a lake behind me and a creature which seemed to be taking hold of people and making them fly round and round in vertical circles...i wrote that fast and i won't think to check if i wanted the word vertical or horizontal. i really wanted to have a go on that strange swing...but i decided not to put my boarder friends to the test of fishing me out of the lake. there was a boat somewhere in here. the light was dim in the shack...my memory is like the elusive boob...you can reach out to touch it but you know all you're going to feel is the smooth flat surface of the monitor screen. so it's quite possible that the shack looked nothing like a shack. i was sitting in the middle of the muddle and the smoke and the boarder friends...boarder friends...boarder friends are friends who will not foresake you for a girl...some of them may want to...some of them may not...fear the ones who may not and love the ones who may want to but don't...otherwise your tender void will get tenderer...
right then...so i was sitting in the middle and through the gloom i saw a girl.
as a rule and i have many of those...many because every now and then i can break a new one and feel like a rebel. as a rule i don't look at girls...if i am being watched...or they know they are being watched...i take it as an art rather than a crude method of obtaining more reasons for wanking off...i am a fool. but this one time...i decided...that since it was dim...and so was i...there was no harm in being shameless...the girl in question...sat up ahead...for some reason it seems farther than she actually was...she was kind of dark...long black hair...(lang block hair)...small...size doesn;t matter if everything is proportionate. (the obvious exception is my penis...or isildur's bane as i like to call it...) there sat the mini-golf girl...with long black hair...and she was small...hahahaha...i loff. funny little girl she was...ok now she seems like a hobbit...this is not going well...if she reads this...castration. i think i'm finally sleepy...excellent...i haven't used the mini-golf girl for this sort of thing for quite a while...thankyou mini golf girl...right...so anyhoo...let's continue the story...the girl sat way over there...in front...there were two pool tables i think...i decided to stare...so i stared...it was unsettling...the staring business...i felt nude...lord knows what she felt because she stared back...i swear...sparks flew like mothers in a barnyard...lord knows what that means...i'm sleepy...i had to do something...or it would become a staring contest...you know...i stared quite a lot...in fact she didn't notice until after i burnt her blouse off with my laser vision thing...then i took off her pants for some hindsight...(i'm very sorry mini golf girl...i feel cruel...you are allowed to visit my blog and leave your number...i swear i won't call...you were out of my league...and still are in my mind) ...so i stared at the girl because she was pretty and all...but too far away to note the finer details...naturally since we were a battalion of boys...she would look our way every now and then...and saw me staring at her...and possibly drooling. i panicked...lost my cool...never had any cool in the first place...i lost my it...i lost it. i stared for perhaps one eighth of a second longer than i felt that i should and then looked away. so did she...we continued this strange game three more times...it was a shameless orgy i tell you...shameless orgy. forgive me lord for i have sinned type scene. so she left and eventually so did we...i think half of us went to lums...to sleep. less than half of the half actually belonged to lums...no wait...wait...yes i think i have both my nipples on...good. i slept on a bed in lums...as a rule i never sleep on a bed alone...i don't break this rule in lums. 7 in the mowaarning.

i have noticed that at the moment i am happy...i have only one real reason to be happy...sometimes you're happy...and that's just as good a reason for me to be happy if you know what i mean...the fairest queen...the river daughter...i could have caught her. right then...off to work...work? i have spent the last two days of my life in extreme pain...the only part of my body that is still mutant are my arms and wrists...the crescendo of insanity has left my ears...finally...it was just...a bad trip...or something...i'm a weak maggot...

i have been to lums four times...perhaps...maybe more...i have been to lums three times with a paper clip in my mouth. i have only been scared once in lums. it's a nice place...it could've been nicer...but i never applied. it's full of beautiful people with expensive clothes and large cars...large does not mean nice...unless if we're talking about a penis..."isildur's bane" is way better than "gimli son of gloin"...if you know what i mean...and i will take off your bra when i close my eyes if you are not careful...robert de niro...will never be waxy...never!
old mother hub bard...(ANDAruil; flame of the west) made fun of molly (gimli son of gloin) and my (isildur's bane) clothes. actually to be honest he only made fun of my clothes...i just mentioned molly so i could give somebody "gimli son of gloin"...khosa...(samwise gamgee)
adil (princess mariana's trench hahaahhaah)
right...i think i'm done...very sleepy...insulted minigolf girl as well as adil...molly...girth counts...i'm only guessing...sleepiness equals drunkenness if you've never been drunk. making up lame jokes reminds me of my last few months in school...

martin pale (can tell a smile from a veil)

sleep walking back again.

little black books hold all our secrets and there are two copies of each. one i have to myself...and the other i tore up and spread all over the freaking planet...i'm afraid that there is something seriously wrong with this sentence...sentences are made of words and words make up vocabularies and my devils have both...my devils are articulate little minions of doom who whisper in my ear and close my eyes...i'm not surprised...
my vocabulary must consist of eighty words...how many different arrangements of sentences and blahooey can i construct out of eighty words? in how many days does a human (if he tries) writes all that he is destined to. the other day i was talking about something...about music...how when somebody figures out how to play a guitar...or any instrument...imagine...a world without heaven. what? right so imagine...a person may learn to play a guitar...but in an alternate universe he learns to play the piano...and in another he learns to play the drums...and so on and so forth until all the universes are saturated...so now...imagine...he's really good...in each universe the music he plays is great...i don't like this anymore to be quite frank i don't like this at all...so i'll get back on track and leave this one unfinished...right so he plays all the instruments...in all the universes...and he makes music...different bits of music...combos...he makes different combinations and comes up with many different songs...what if we could somehow...extract all the music he could ever make...all of it...every little bit...we take all his music out...and we take all the music out of his altrnate universe buddies...and we combine all of this...what do we get?

last night i was walking around the dinner table...round and round...thinking about this exact point in time (but i was not sure of) when i was going to be here which is odd because it's just time...and time flows in only one direction...you can't go backwards or sideways...although if you did go sideways...that's intriguing...people always worry about going forwards and backwards...high hopes and stuff...but what if we go sideways...where do we go?

last night i was walking around the dinner table...round and round...i was in a lot of pain...my head felt like it was being squeezed...and my ears hummed...loud...annoying...lights flashed and i saw purpley blue hazey things if i closed my eyes...i have insanely wild closed eye vacations...i usually get to see a group of people eating a girl's face...it's not a cause for much concern...she seems to enjoy it. so i was in pain...and i walked around the table because i was afraid that if i slept i would not wake up again...it's an unreasonable fear that i did not have when i used to be religious...i mean back then all i wanted, was to die...because i was clean and there was nothing here for me...now i'm a wraith and i have nowhere else to go...at least if i do go somewhere i won't be welcome...and the only place where i will be welcome...i will not enter voluntarily...why do we do silly things when we know we're going to die? so i walked round and round thinking...wondering just like the last time and the time before last if i would be sane again...and i imagined there was water all around me...and i was walking round in a circle in a path where water could not come...picture walls of water running to my left and my right...picture water...the river daughter...i was afraid that i would touch the water walls by my sides...and by touching them break the strange force that kept them at bay...and i would drown...it was a strange thing to think...and it did not matter if i walked clockwise or counter clockwise...very unwise...i'm not really surprised...i walked for years. where did the years go?

naturally since i asked the riddle...i must've thought of some answer...to the first one i'd say silence...and the second would prolly be the cause of madness. the third one i'm still wondering about...where did the years go? i am twenty years old...what does it mean? it means i'm too old to do what i want to and too young to do what i want to.

much love and sobriety
martin pale (will now exhale)

just another weak maggot

man i need professional help. i bet you wish that i would leave. gross...how many weeks since i bathed hahahahaha nobody knows...nobody cares when you look like a wraith...hahahaha...i've been trembling uncontrollably for 12 hours at least...constant headache...nausea...goddamn...so hungry but can't eat...looking at food makes me sick...looking at me makes me sick...i'm a wraith...i was looking at a picture of pana and I, from 2001...hahaha funny blank look in his eyes...absence of the boy that now resides inside his mind. major change...silly pubic moustache...i have a silly pubic moustache...it comes and goes...in waves...nausea cometh and goeth in waves...i didn't even do anything...this is incredible...i haven't done anything and i feel like shit water...can't eat...can't sleep...have to study...joke.
my jaw is shut too tight...it's starting to really hurt...my jaw hurts...i keep forgetting...i was talking to my sister, she asked me something...in the middle of our conversation i just completely blanked out for a minute...kept smiling like an idiot and then figured out what i was talking about...last night was painful...my limbs are tingly...can't hold on to anything...if i think about any body part, it starts to tingle harder...i'm trying to stay blank...nobody believes where is the GODDAMN CURSOR I AM TIRED...so tired...wish i could cry and scream like a baby and then go the hell to sleep...i have slipped on indifference and broken my back...don't stare at me man...i can't stare back anymore. so hungry but can't eat...so much pain...can't take a painkiller...that would be the right thing to do...a lesson learnt in pain is seldom forgotten...or so i hope...to whom it may concern...everybody writes for somebody. i'm suddenly very happy...content...it comes in waves...bi-polar...when you know what's wrong with you and you can't do anything about it...my father asks me why my eyes are red...lack of sleep...sheep...i'm happy now...content...it comes in waves...if my sweater snags on this thing again i will completely breakdown and start drooling hahaha...

i have been stranger before.

i sit here feeling nauseous. it's a sick feeling. it's like...it's almost exactly like every other feeling...throat feels dry...irritation...normally vomitting is preceeded by an increase in saliva...when they tell you to stay away from the shadow beneath, you remember the best time you've had, was well, not reallly, quite all that. ok try to compensate...compensate...what were you saying mannnnnnnn...
ok relax...relax...i see beautiful creatures playing with beads begotten by beautiful creatures who played with beads created by who knows...see that's the problem of my people...denial...of course. kindly gentleman...i know of a gentleman...i know only one or two and i have never seen or met anymore...gentleman are amazing creatures...they are not proper...they are not at fault...they are focused and you cannot hate them...i see beautiful creatures playing with coloured beads that shine in the light and i see why they are so entertaining...you have to arrange them in all sorts of funny patterns and ask for more food or drink or catch forty winks...i feel sick...nauseous...it's a sick feeling it comes in waves...stomach growling...just bad chicken...the best part about being weak and weird is that you're going to be in for a wilder ride than anybody else...the best thing about being stupider than the average bear is that you can't understand the simple absence of light at the end of the tunnel...funnel...chemistry classes...glasses...my mother bought a pair for me, i hate them and never wear them...gem...my green ring, it broke...the gem is gone and only the band thing remains...sometimes i wear it for fun...it's huge and it's gawdy...it's not quite becoming...i wish i were a drummer...can't afford drums...settle for a guitar...can't play guitar...settle for new pencils...i can't sharpen a pencil...i think it's because i'm left handed but i have always had to ask somebody in the examination hall to sharp my pencil...K.B. never learnt how to tie his shoe laces...i used to do that for him...one very kind soul who could go on but then something went wrong and he broke away before i did...i did not break until long afterwards...my broken friends and i...we live in a house of mud. i wonder if you ever think about what people do when they're not around you...what if they just stand still. if that isn't what happens in real life... can't prove or disprove it...except if i stop being an anal probe and stop being an anal probe. man i have messed it up...isn't that a shame? why don't you take over since you're so good at doing this? would you like a ride? see the problem lies in the fact that we think that we see the bigger picture...we don't...except when we wipe our asses with toilet paper...that my friend...is the bigger picture...revealing itself unto us...cuss...nobody uses the word cuss anymore...i wonder why...first time i read it was in a comic strip called one big happy...one of the best in my opinion...i like calvin and hobbes...i've had a major thing for denis the menace's mom...i never read crap like dick tracy...that's for mad people...seriously only mad people would read horse shit like that...i hate dick tracy and dick tracy type comics...like the magician something...or something or the other...etc. i like comics though...grow...flow...know...so how is your life today? it's a good question. it's like this...always make sure your nails are clean or you will get caught...always make sure your room smells like...hahaha can't bother...that's the problem isn't it...you lost your marbles today. i've been ranting on about karez irrigation for no reason...it just popped into my head...i made a community on orkut...called karez irrigation rules...the community picture is a lamby thing being slaughtered...how why and what am i doing is beyond me...i sent invitations to everybody to join this community...and do what? i dunno...i laughed a lot...i laughed a lot at the lamb and at karez irrigation...what a silly thing karez irrigation must be...it sounds funny...who cares about balochistan?? who cares about under ground water resources...who cares about punjab...pakistan is a country full of dumb names...land of the pure my ass...it's just full of dumb names...butt...if i were named butt...i would die of shame...there's someone out there called seemal...why???????? why not just name your daughter labia? or clitoris? gross... i'm just letting the bad crap flow and letting the good crap rise...stop moving your leg goddamnit it's giving me a headache...sit still...type...silently...underground...flow away...we're all just goddamn karez's hahaahhaha...somebody just rips you out of some hole...and makes sure their life is made fertile by spreading yours around...and splashing bits and pieces of you everywhere...please don't feel the need to withstand the withering of your cradle...or bed...or house...mickey mouse...spouse...can't have one...will prolly live long enough to should've had one but i'll settle with a cat...try not to hump the creature...i see beautiful creatures playing with pretty coloured beads...seeds...of beautiful people...how can you hurt someone? what makes you feel the need to raise your hand and just smash it...hard...i enjoy the company of some people...doesn't matter what their age is...some people i look at for the first time and know that i will hate them...they probably have the same look in their eyes that i have...and that just annoys me but i'm not sure...some people i hate i can grow to stand but never really care for them...i'm sure they don't care either...which is good because i already have five mothers. nearly all my bullies have ended up my friends...all except one...except maybe now he would hit me not because i didn't let him before but because i didn't let him. what the heck is that supposed to mean? let's translate...he wanted to be friends again...i used to be cruel...the reason i had been his friend in the first place was because i had found him crying in class on the first day of school...in junior school...he had failed...i pitied him because i used to really fear failing...fear it to the point of going nuts over it . so i could relate...and i don't like people around me to be sad...it gives me gas. i have had other friends...one of my best friends used to beat the shit out of me...he refuses to admit it and beats the shit out of me if i ever remind him. this is boring...i am bored...disinterested...i can't find my goddamn copy of alice in wonderland...i always thought the author was a woman...not many people...and now i won't say it...it is now a secret...lips are sealed...peeled...hands in the winter...a tender void...from now on that's what i'm calling assholes...tender voids...hahaha...there's something missing...my jaw is shut too tight...like a clamp...weird staring eyes...reddish...i notice how people laugh...i'm made fun of the most for my laughter...keeping up with their limitless efforts to generate originality, people seem to be united in calling it "insane" laughter...how cool is that...in reality i laugh like a goat being struck by lightening...paranoia...tension...pills...fun...adrenaline...lost...i asked my love to come help me back in my time of need...dude that is not going to happen...because you're a circus monkey.
death is going to be a funny end to your life...but only if you manage to amass lots and lots of wealth and spawn over a hundred heirs...then leave your will with the following message written in letters of a fiery gold for all to read, "oho...aap so rahhi thhi?"


(pana will laugh)
martin pale...is bound to fail.

zoloft-really? so what?

ok...sleepy...

i ate some food and took two pills of the zoloft creature...half an hour...prolly fifteen minutes give or take the placebo...i was calm...i stayed at chumpango's...his irritant relative...i could understand him...i could understand him...i could communicate with the kid as i have never been able to do before...normally i just want to throttle the creature...but today i was big brotherly...hahahaha...i don't really remember being so tame...we drove somewhere...roghni naan from cock n bull...i didn't want anything...discussed whether human resource was the engine of modern economics or something of the sort...it was for chumpango's homework...actually he has some sort of a debate or something...blah blooh...it's a very calming drug...really nice...it can rape you just like that...but only if you're willing...willing rape is not an easy found example. let loose and feel the violation...it will turn you into a mutant...in the end...perhaps...but at the moment...you're still too alive...unpleasant and thankless...what about arms and legs? thankless...someday when you have to you'll become bottlenecked with information about yourself that nobody wants...write a book...get it published...you're smart enough...you lost your mind...goddamnit it's back.

after i had coffee...which was not initially my intention and some coke...i felt slightly nauseous...the feeling has persisted...it was on the side effects...so it's all good...sligtht head ache...i had one wave of extreme paranoia where i may have alarmed chumpango...slightly...the expression on my face changed from quiet bewilderment to horror in a matter of seconds...i don't know why that happened...it was interesting though...since that point in time...i have been shitting like a karez irrigation system...at the moment i'm reaaaaaaallly heavy...it's actually been five hours since i took the pills...so i don't even know what the hell is it that i'm talking about...dryness of mouth...yeah sure...nausea...definitely not one of my favourite feelings...but over all it works...and that's great...as long as it's free...

ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh maaaaather tellllllllllll meeeee morrrrrrrrrrrrrrrreeee

chumpango mentioned today, before, right after, or soon...depending on what was happening in your life...that he was listening to opeth and found them to be "otherworldy"...we listen to opeth a lot...he listens to it more because it's all in his computer...i'll make him write a c.d. damnit...all the albums...the only band we have all the albums of...otherwordly he said...first time i hard pink floyd...i thought it was too gawdy...it was too...GAWDY...but i had only heard money...and money is a gawdy song...later on i found subtlety in pink floyd...that i so obviously lack. otherworldly...the first time i heard black sabbath...i couldn't understand what the hell was going on...what was all this...how was it happening and will it end before my head explodes (with dark forebodings hahaha) black sabbath raped...i liked tool...from the beginning...i found it to have strange wisdom...but maynard is wise...like a wizard...maynard is a wizard...with saruman's power...his voice can convince you to leave yourself behind and he can slap you across the face with it...maynard is a wizard...it's obvious from his name...if you read his poetry...you will learn...if you read brittany spear's poetry...you will wonder why you masturbate at all and wish for death to "come" swiftly. poetry...is bob dylan...jim morrison...and here my knowledge ends...i have little knowledge...i have lesser information...i have limitless gaping holes in my tiny universe and i am confident that aliens do not exist...why does he play with his fingers when he can use a pick...why is he so damn good...sultans of swing...they have this move where all three of them move forwards and then backwards at the chorus thing...we're the sultans of swing...
the weed monkey introduced me to metal by mistake...i got curious because i thought his nick was something he could not have come up with...i wasn't wrong but i could easily have been...although sometimes you just can't tell what a person will do if you hand them a pen and a piece of paper...the weed monkey brought zeppelin and sabbath and tool...more...and then molly came around with pink floyd...and i found hendrix and the doors and stuff...and then i went mad. at first i would wonder if i were or weren't....then i gave up...there's no point in figuring out dumb stuff like that...nobody cares...everyone is nuts...war is the strongest form of love...love of God? love of nation? love of something other than life...i have never been ashamed of falling madly in love...and i will not be loth to wage war...i am a boy.

Radagast

sometimes when you're asleep your brain tells you that you're awake, stuff happens that makes no sense...six pence...sing a song of six pence pocket full of fare...for the love of God, woman please go shave your hair...i just remembered the road from the airport in a foreign country at night, with street lights orange and sleep in my eyes.

the earthy man who leaves no home
except the ones he cannot lift
noble, simple, like clayey loam
but not with might would the scale he shift

birds and trees all know his name
he's no king and he wears no crown
and when the spring comes out to play
there lives on radagast the brown

sending forth his help in time
of hues and shapes and a simple rhyme

but he fought no war, he was not aware
matters of the ring were not his care

tell me not that you haven't heard them say
radagast loved earth more than gandalf the grey

so his time ran short and he went back to the west
for eternal spring and an unending rest.


martin pale...reads the same book over and over again...

zoloft for you and for me

Zoloft is approved to treat depression, social anxiety disorder, posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD), panic disorder, obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD),and premenstrual dysphoric disorder (PMDD) in adults over age 18.

i think i may have premenstrual dysphoric disorder...HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAAHAHAHA....this should be good...i'll try this in the morning...or at night...whenever i wake up...children should buy zoloft NOW

aah stealing prescription medicine...is like taking candy from a baby...sadly this won't do much...it's supposed to work only if you take it regularly or something...but i'm hoping there might be a slight buzz if i take two...perhaps i should cross it with some other pill...but first i'll just try this alone...see what it does...blah blooh...interesting...yes?
yes.

shartim paje

yellow

the boy sat in a corner of the dusty room fingering his left thumb. fidgeting like he always did when he was nervous or just gassy or something...mostly gassy i guess...he had problems with gas...the boy always sat in a corner. corners are comfortable places...he was thinking about the hill beyond the stream where he used to play with his friends...when they were his age, of course...not anymore. once when he crossed the stream and ran towards the hill he noticed something different.
within a cave on the hill beyond the stream (where he used to play with his friends!!) there was a neat straw bed...very comfy...yellow it was...and it seemed quite comfy.


the boy used to play with this girl who used to play with him until it became quite obvious that he wasn't really listening to what she said. he would stare at her lips move. the gross but at the same time strangely inviting pink tongue moving about here and there correcting the passage of air making sure the words came out right...as if anybody would worry about what she was saying...heck even i would've just sat there staring at her lips move and the tongue and all...the boy had only just noticed her watery eyes...she always had watery eyes...very moist hahaha


stop repeating information dude...ok....what did the girl look like?


she was kind of small...but not too short...i have no idea what age she was...whatever age kids are when they play around streams that have hills beyond them. she had watery eyes of a colour that i can't describe...maybe it was yellow...yeah yellow eyes as in the iris...or the whatever...the thing in the middle which in my case is brown...hers was yellow...some cats have yellow eyes...not like jaundice...just unusual, yellow eyes...a girl with long dark hair (we all like long dark hair or lang dork hair) a pretty nose (that too) with large watery bright yellow eyes. she used to talk a lot...say loads of pointless things...the boy used to pay attention until he noticed her lips move for the first time...i mean he had seen them move before but this one time he just kind of stopped and thought to himself, "whoa..."


"whoa?" he thought "whoa?" he didn't think anything better than whoa?


stop interrupting me goddamnit...i'm slow enough as it is...yes he thought whoa...what else did you think he would think?



well...honestly...i was thinking more along the lines of...er...well...just get on with it...forget it.


right, then...so the boy, he was a quiet boy...and the girl was fond of him...


why do you think she was fond of him???


for one thing...she made him notice how her lips used to move when she talked and how her tongue was all pink and gross but yummy...and she used to smile very wide when she would see him looking at her but not quite looking...staring...well just the lips...or maybe the tongue...


i'm beginning to wonder if there's going to be more to this story than a girl's tongue and her lips or her goddamn yellow eyes...


you forgot her long dark hair...we all love long dark hair...but anyhoo...let's move on...so the girl like all girls knew what to do even before she knew what she was doing...or why...


er...what the hell is that supposed to mean?? what exactly did she know about what???


girly stuff you freakin' nazi...i don't know...she just knew...girls come prepared to slay boys...their weapons are nice and soft...and gross...and so on and so forth...dude try to think more freely...if i tell you everything then where's the fun of getting different whatsits from the whosits?


ahan...right...so this girl she was pretty and knew it...so what then?


right so in your own words, the girl was pretty and she knew it...so then one day the boy crossed the stream and saw something strange...there was a cave that he hadn't noticed before...


i thought he noticed the damn cave in the first paragraph??? how many caves are there????


DUDE...it's the same bloody cave...i just left the story off in the first paragraph and now we're getting back to it...it's how this story works...bear with me you mutant. ANYWAY...ahem...so anyway...the boy found the goddamn cave and there was a comfy bed of straw in it...all yellow and nice...and the boy was reminded of the girl with the yellow eyes...so he decided to go back and bring her with him...nice comfy place...must bring girl...must.


didn't he think about the comfy bed of straw?? i mean if i went into a cave and saw a comfy bed of straw...i'd think that somebody was living there or maybe it's a bear...why not investigate the cave??? why go bring the girl???


because the girl had yellow eyes and the straw was yellow as well...and her lips moved so nicely and her tongue was all gross and yummy.


ok shut up about that dude...i get the picture...so the boy was nuts about the girl...the girl was making him nuts...there's a comfy bed in the story now...i see where this is going...you did say that these were playing-age kids...ok...? don't get porno on me...i have my limitations...


dude...just let me finish the damn story...just shut up for a minute...i've already been up all night because you've been saying all sorts of crap and i'm tired and i want to finish this story so that you'd shut up and i could go to bed...otherwise i'm taking the freakin xanax...
dude...first off...there's only two pills left...secondly...are you threatening me??
ahem...so the boy ran back to the garden where beneath the large tree there was a red swing...and the grass was so green it could make you wish shoes were banned and the apples on the trees smelt like her hair...or vice versa...and he saw her sitting on the steps of her pretty little cottage where her parents lived with her and her cat that she loved. it was summer...so warm, so nice...weird flowers sprouting up everywhere...
i bet there were some in your anus too...i hate summer...the sun...too fiery...
right well...everything smelt like grass and flowers and bees and honey and cats and pies and cookies and all sorts of expensive polo sport type cologne shit...that i will never be able to afford...
hahahahaha...
so he went up to her...this boy...he walked up to her and looked in her eyes...how can one look directly inside yellow eyes is beyond me...but he could look deep inside her eyes...she wondered what he was wondering...there was a lot of wondering in the air...along with polo sport type smells...but before she could wonder much he grabbed her hand and pulled her off the steps of her house and took her running away with him at full speed.
how fast do you reckon were they going?
i dunno...kids with small legs...i'd say maybe...ten miles per hour...? i seriously don't know for sure...i'm not even sure how fast ten miles is...i mean it was fast at that age...i guess i could've beaten them...mostly because the girl was slowing them down...she was kind of excited i guess...running off somewhere...it was summer man...running with boys in summer...i wouldn't recommend it...boys think faster in summer...
please tell me that that was just a dumb comment and nothing that you've actually researched...
yeah so i made it up...let's assume that it's true...but in anycase...this particular girl is strong...smart...you can see it in her eyes...i mean she's kind of small but you can tell she'd be very pretty when she's all growed up...so anyway....the boy ran away with the girl...and they ran through the something till they got to the stream and she stopped...refused to move another step...
why??
i'm not sure yet...i think...maybe she couldn't swim??? or just didn't like the water...or maybe she'd never crossed the stream before...i dunno...she seemed scared...such a pretty girl shouldn't look scared...unless...well unless you know she'd only run to you.
you're getting gay in your old age...i assume that that's why people take girls to watch scary movies?
obviously...so the girl was scared...didn't want to move...the boy was looking at her and then for no reason just put his hand on her cheek...


be careful...i mean it.


he just touched her cheek man...there's nothing wrong with that...so anyhoo the yellow eyed girl just stared back at the boy...maybe she was amused by the fact that the boy had touched her cheek...the boy meanwhile brushed her hair back a bit from in front of her eyes...because that's the part he liked best.
you mean that's the part YOU like best...
yeah right well it's not like he could've felt up her boobies or something...we're talking about kids...plus this girl has yellow eyes...i would kill for yellow eyes...very beautiful yellow eyes...more girls should have yellow eyes that tell no lies...remember that poem i once wrote?
yeahhhh...post that once you're done with this...unless you've already posted it...i don't remember...
neither do i...anyhoo...the boy brushed her hair back from in front of her eyes and held her hand tighter in his...he imagined that he must love the girl
good God not the L word!!!!!
it's not my fault you bastard...by the way...you were the one who was complaining about "whoa" so i'm just making this interesting...so anyhoo...he didn't do much except stare at her eyes...naturally she stared back...and girls know stuff in summers...or this one did...so when the boy turned and took her with him, she crossed the stream without a complaint.
big deal...so the wussy girl crossed the stream...big deal.
the boy took her to the cave he had found...by now the girl was mortally afraid but kept her grip on the boy's hand firm...the boy didn't mind...who would?
not if the girl was ugly...and this one has yellow eyes and a pretty nose and what-not.
right so the girl was afraid...but she kind of had a thing for the boy and didn't want to run away...she was kind of strong...didn't want the boy to know exactly how afraid she was...i mean the boy could tell she was afraid but not how much afraid...plus he had practically no idea what possible reason she could have to be afraid...it was a nice cave...with a comfy straw bed.
the boy took the girl with him and sat on the comfy straw bed...she was hesitant...but then she sat...she was kind of shaking with fright at this point...so she hugged the boy and closed her eyes...shut them tight...
dude...not only is this getting horrendously gay but also i fear i don't see a point...
the boy was kind of startled...hugging...that's just weird...but her hair smelt like apples...so nice...kind of gay but you can't help it...everybody likes the smell of apples...so so sooooo nice...
yeah...i guess it was this point...when the boy was thinking about what to do next...whether he should run away...or not...unhug the hug perhaps...tell her he loved her for no reason...or something anything...any goddamn thing...although he liked the silence...but he was afraid the girl might get all awkward and crap...she ws already seemingly freaking out...more to the point...our boy had not imagined a relationship more mature than one that leads to hugging...because kissing causes babies...and we can't have that...plus it's more than just gross...it's double gross...it's like spit and stuff...plus the boy wasn't sure about such a long term commitment...he didn't have a job anyway to support a family, where would the children go to school?
dude...you're ranting...get on with it.
right so it was that point...when the boy was unsure and the girl was holding on tight that a shadow came upon the entrance of the cave...the boy opened his eyes...and over the girl's head he saw a man standing in the entrance... the girl turned around, saw her father and nearly screamed...but she knew it would only be worse if she did...i suppose she thought everything would be fine with the boy by her side...but now the boy seemed small...a child...she didn't hate her father...i guess she was...confused...or something...

"aaah my sweet little whore...what are you doing here???you know this is our secret place...you love your daddy here...and you've brought a little friend...you know i warned you never to tell anybody...i suppose i'll have to punish you and your little boyfriend...you know how daddy hates tattle tales...sigh...oh well...what must be done...must be done...you boy...this may hurt a little but it's something you'll get used to...hahahahaha"

the boy sat in a corner of the dusty room fingering his left thumb...fidgeting like he always did when he was nervous or just gassy or something. mostly nervous i guess...the boy always sat in a corner...corners are comfortable places...he was thinking about a hill beyond the stream where he used to play with his friends...but mostly just about the fact that the yellow eyed girl...he loved so much was kind of...well...dead.

i dunno man...i write better than you do...this was gay.