Weeds keep returning.

I think at this time it is wise I restart my blog, my own personal blog. Not the writing one that has been the source of much frustration and dissapointment (much like my actual writing or lack thereof) but instead my own.

For my thoughts and maybe for my own sanity.

It suits me that there are millions of these pieces of personal muse on the internet because burial feels secure and warm in the seasons cold day.

Putting down something personal actually feels more painfull in retorspect, the honesty stings when time has elapsed. To look back upon how you felt and what you have written about makes me skin crawl.

I have no idea why.

I think it's a form of acute embarassment along with the fact I hate reading my own writing in the main.

I need to articulate how I have been feeling for last two months, you see a depression unlike I have felt in a substaintial amount of time has transported itself over me. Currently brooding it's black mass over my head I do not really know what to do to shift it and maybe worst of all I do not know if it is worth doing so.

Feeling completely lost, exsaughted and ready to just give in brings me to a destination where I look out and wonder what exactly I have done or achived throughout my time.

Just faliure and relenting when I should persisted.

You may think you are in emotional trouble when you feel the pain but I think I have out the truth is that you are in trouble when you feel numb. Or at least jaded with the odd invasion of incredulios laughter.

So all of that, what I have just written. What is it for?

Well nothing as such, nothing you can use but maybe a step in getting this inky loathing out of my system.

I don't know what to do, I don't know how to think, if what I am thinking is correct, if it's wrong, if what I am feeling is wrong, how to be right, why to right. All ecompasing confussion and ever growing gllom fogs my heart and I just want to curl up and dissapear to somewhere other than here and be anyone else other than me.

The flats cold.

It's as simple as, up too early on a saturday morning and the flat is too cold and I don't even think I have enough milk for a cup of tea.

Bollocks.

A few more detials on the blog change.

Just so all that read this know I am going to be changing this blog for the better,my persoanl accounts and feelings on all and sundry is now here. I am not sure what yet as I am yet to create another account and move my personal stuff to said address.

This new blog will be about small press horror reviews,my writing and stories and whatever I feel makes good reading and relates to the small presses and horror.

Well it will develop but the main themes will be Small press horror publications (leaning towards the British ones) and my own writing.

Keep your eyes peeled...with an AXE!

Facelift.

No not me,mostly because the only facelift I could afford right now would be by a mad surgeon who would claim that I could stay awake while it happens which would result in some kind of physical death...or something I think I am trying to be funny *shrug*

No what is actuley going to happen and thanks to beautiful friend of mine Geoergy this blog will be getting a spruce up :)

It will look fantastic when done so watch this space :)

Oh and I hope to include reviews of Underground small press horror publications when done as well as the other usual blabber :)

See you soon.

Same old stock.

Watching an advert on an old video casette I had I thought,see the song that was on it was one of those Arthur Askey type songs.

"...busy,busy bee...something something"

I don't remember exactly how it went but the main point was that it was a silly song...no more like a ditty about a bee going around being busy and the singer thought about how delightful it would be to be one dashing from flower to flower on a barmy English summer day.

The song made me think of my nan as this is exactly the type of music she would sing to me as a boy,she used to like silly tunes such as this. Meaningless happy little numbers that were made just to enjoy.

Then the next advert came on and it was a Pepsi one,the celebs employed this time were the Black Eyed Peas and I thought...how the HELL did we get to the point were sex sells EVERYTHING!

It's really sad,no tragic and I don't yearn for times were you could leave your door unlocked becuase "there were never no trouble 'round 'ere when those lovely Kray twins were in charge guv",but it's horrible how the Pepsi advert didn't even seem to be focussed on their drink but rather the sex appeal of the band and the teenagers (who the viewer are supposed to be) that appeared on it.

Now obviously I am man #768908645 to go over this subject and other far more eridite have tackled this topic but at which juncture did the human race race get to where they couldn't have fun without sex being top of the agenda.

Why do the women always have to be attractive in the manner of which the Greek mask of symetrical beauty dictates?

Why do guys have to be muscular to be THE man?

Since when did we live in a world where only people of a certain shape have sex or sex appeal anyway?

Infact I give it five years before Ronald McDonald turns into a coquettish,burlesque whore,well it's someones wet dream I suppose.

This wouldn't be so bad if there was a refuge from this type of advertising,an alturnitive that wasn't asexual but an affirmation that there is simple fun to be had without the burnt-suger taste of over-sold fuck based advertising.
This is advertising companies fill our world in sich a complete,air tight manner we can't breath well unless you want to opt-out of a country that doesn't use electric.

See porn...fine porn without sex is knitting but at the same time knitting advertised with sex is more pearl necklace than pearl-one.

See it's like this they promote a product with sex because they fool us into think that we gain have more sex by proxy of buying said product. Problem is sex is never what is really being sold it's the I-Pod or Police sunglasses or whatever.
They the advertising companys sells sex without ever having said product on their shelves but they don't care because all they wan tto do is fool you into think you are buying sex appeal when really you are just purchasing a phone,trainers or aftershave.

Funny to think people find prostitution to be a decietful game,strange to say but at least the have what they are selling. However saying that it's sad it's theor to buy anyway :/

If they tell you...

If they tell you...

You are a bleeding heart.

Tell them...

At least my hearts alive.

If they hate you...

For the fact you have ideals.

Love them...

For being easier to defeat.

If they humliate you...

For feeling pain not yours.

Smile at them...

Empowered by joy borrowed.

If they harm you...

Because they think you're weak.

Stand back up...

Because you know they are afraid.

If it should go dark...

Because we neglect our hearts.

Shine like brilliance...

Because that's whom you are.





To the reader,that's about you :)

Sleeping habits.

Something has to give and it ethier my sanity or a regimented sleeping pattern I am not a betting man which is good as the odds don't feel to great for ethier horse.

I don't even think this song is that much of a new tune for me to sing it's certain that being asleep at the right times isn't something I feel comfertable with but it is something that I have to do so that I can do the things I need to do.

...and I have tooth ache,I am a little afraid of dentist but that's a poor excuse everyone is to a degree,well unless you have hollywood teeth.

Oh I know I promised this blog would be a place about me moaning about my stuff I suppose that makes me the lamest rebel alive,swap Marlon Brando with a skinny,unsure pale Englishman and the Norton with an oyster card and you kind of get the picture of the type of rebel I am. I sometimes place my forehead against my reflection and stare at myself just wondering why I don't have a clue or if I do and I just don't know what clues look like.

I need to write this however because the whole idea is that I can look back at this and see where I have come from and see that I am able to lift myself up from being down. The blog as a whole reads up and down,it's quite insightful and I am glad I didn't put a total ban of mentioning my private life on here as well...there is a degree of sucsess there.

Hope is something I always hold onto and life can't wrestle that from my hands and I dearly wish for that to be true for you the reader(all 3 of you...well I say three but the ratings arn't in yet :P ).

Maybe in a new series of Cracker Robbie Coltrane could use blogs as a method to gain a phsycological sense of anatomy for his suspect.

Mind you it would be a short episdoe if there was only one entry written that read:

"I done dem murders and kilt all dem people...signed Tony Bobbed"

Yeah well you may have not laughed but an attempt at a sense of humour drags you through the dregs of cyclic depression ;)

Have a good night/day.