Wednesday, 19 October 2016

Is anyone as tired as I am

Another night stretching into the early hours. I'm left feeling no better today than any other day. Still not tired, I have no idea why this bout of insomnia has hit me. These last few weeks have stretched on and on, the days have kinda merged into one horrible dream. I'm so spaced out and distant. I'm lonely. I have been watching so many films, old films, new films.. I'm on a indie rom/com  hype too (Good Will Hunting, Garden State, Punch, Drunk, Love) Its refreshing to come away from a film feeling something different, changing gear as it were. I think I'm getting soft again. The thought of being with someone has seemed like a dangerous possibility these last couple of years but now, not so much. But the one thing I dream of, is a dog to keep me company. A little buddy to talk to and walk and go out for little adventures with. Each day won't be long and tedious and all about my feelings. There will be a new center to my universe.I have already decided he will be named Rufus. Hopefully once I'm feeling better and able to hold down a job I can start saving.
Every night I relive the same scenes of my past, what would I do or say different. How would I better myself. But what does it really matter the past is the past. I'm sure those who have hurt me and I hurt them don't think about me. Anyway I can't concentrate anymore. I wonder if anyone will read this, or will this be another hollow call into the void.

Friday, 14 October 2016

here we go again

It’s been a while since I’ve had a moan on here, so now is as good a time as any to start up again. The last few weeks have found me at my lowest ebb. Not getting out of bed, not wanting to talk or eat. And withdrawing, feeling like I might never come back.. plus I’m out of work again. But I’m feeling just a little better now and I am taking some medicine for my anxiety. I’m able to take walks again and can watch films and read. When I’m in a bad way I can’t get out of my head for a minute so reading is near impossible. At this point I really don’t know what the future holds and for once that doesn’t scare the shit outta me. I just want to feel relatively secure for a change. I’m sick of being up and down. Not knowing when I’m next going to lose my shit and have a bad turn.Anyway that’s enough for now. I’m currently reading the Bruce Springsteen bio’ and have been listening to lots of Leonard Cohen, Nick Cave and Radiohead. 

Saturday, 27 August 2016

keep trying

I don't think I will ever get a job and I feel sad. When I take a step outta my own skin and look through maturer eyes, I just feel useless. I could easily conform and be grateful for whatever shit job some bastard will hire me to do. But I have decided not to compromise anymore, I will not spiral into another depression because I can't be myself. I can't keep blaming other people for my problems, I will always be the problem. I can sit inside my own four walls forever, with my books and films. And tragic singer songwriters but I long to be a real person. To have a physical presence in our world, I like all of us feel I have something unique to offer. Whether that be writing, songs or whatever. I just hope my efforts aren't in vain. I wish someone had the answers and could put their hand on my shoulder and just say, Ben all will be well soon, this pain you feel, It is going to be worth it in the long run. So keep reading, keep writing and don't stop dreaming. Because one day you'll be old. And life will be over, so keep believing.

Tuesday, 23 August 2016

Struggle of an old man sat on a bench

We don't just die
It takes longer
there's no sweet release
depending on how long it takes to be found
dead found on the toilet
discovered under the sheets
under a bridge
down alley ways or behind bins
we're buried by our loved ones
burnt to nothing
turned to dust
some left to fester
rot and return to mush and dirt
walking away
there part done
no blood on their hands

We don't just die
once former loves
those that loathed us
Then we sale our ship
looking out to sea

Monday, 22 August 2016

Our mind keeps dreams in tiny glass bottles with holes in.

It's a crazy feeling that I can recall certain moments from my life, with such clarity that they could have just happened. But they didn't, they're from a different time. And the glue that holds them together seems to give and flake away the more time that passes. So now the memories aren't as whole as what they once were, whats left is the question of what actually happened. What has my subconsciousness filled in? One night I walked down empty streets. Across fields wet with morning dew. Tiny yellow eyes poking out of bushes and trees. My path lit by the stars and moon. With just the music from my earphones. I can't remember if it was a winter or spring. And for what reason did I take that night for myself, to leave a memory that holds up as a wondrous moment of my adolescence. The stars shone brighter than you could imagine. Like tiny flecks of light from a sea now gone. The moon looming, a unmovable plate. Fields stretched on beyond the realms of possibility. I was lifted to the sky too tired to walk any more. Dancing on clouds and kissed the moon goodnight. Waving down to all beneath me. Only I walked the earth that night. But for all I know I could have been at home, tucked up in bed and that's where my dreams took me. I choose to remember that I did take that journey, that I was alone with my thoughts and the song still rings that I tearfully sung. In this perfect moment, a part of me will remain. Lost in time.

Monday, 15 August 2016


I have spent years of my life, bottling my feelings away, one by one. Every doubt, regret and fear in the world. Till I exploded. Anxiety crippled me. I couldn't leave the house without having a raging fit. I cried and cried before leaving for work. I dragged myself off each day to a job that was pointless, I couldn't eat. I just slept and slept. It was the day David Bowie died. I found out in the morning and felt my heart pulled out from my chest. I couldn't speak, I carried on pushing things deeper inside till I felt sick and could hardly stand. I ran down stairs and fell into a pool of tears. I was sent home. My old work friends never looked at me in the same way after that, they teased me and I left a week later. Humiliated.

What I remember from that day is a tearful phone call with my mum on the beach. She is the only one that understands. She listens and gives so much. Her calming reassurances reminded me of when I started secondary school, we'd moved across the country on our own, it was difficult transition. I would leave school early. Walk over to her work in tears, she'd run out and hug we and wipe the tears away. Eight years later I feel no different, just as alone and useless. On that beach it was so cold, people were walking by with there dogs, smiles pasted on there faces pretending all was well. Since then I have locked myself away, within my fortress of books and cds. Only art holds the answers.