Empty

I do better when it’s raining. When there is no contrast between what’s inside and whats outside. When the sun doesn’t cast such obvious shadow through the veils against the window. When the silence is filled with that white noise of rain pattering on the window like a friend knocking to check you’re still breathing. But today the sun is bright, and there is a ‘peaceful’ stillness to the day.  A peace I can’t reconcile.

The sun reminds me I’m empty.

I turn my back to it and hate it for the heat upon my back. Nauseating.
It was better when the world was shadowed in winters black.

Spiral: Depression in the club

Dust motes glide in the split streams of light as people raise their arms over their heads in a colourful array of supposed dance moves. The music blasts and you can feel the bass vibrating through your bones.
I don’t know if their smiles are real, I project onto them the fakeness of my own smile.
I’m dancing along, and women are brushing against me. I’m acting like it’s the best night of my life. I’m looking around me at all these faces flashing different colours in the lights, and I’m thinking, ‘are you listening to the lyrics? “Please tell me why, oh tell me why do we build castles in the sky…” “Do you ever question your life?”‘ Why yes, yes I do I question it all the time. “I think it’s time to talk with you…..Where is the love?” These lyrics are so depressing can’t you hear them? I want to shake these people. They call it trance music, and it seems appropriate because they’re set in a trance dancing, moving their body like hypnotised robots.  “Give me a reason, must be a reason to hold on to what we’ve got,” you’re still dancing, why? What I the reason, why are we holding on?
I’m spiralling. The music is too bright to lights to loud. Existential voices sing over beats that propose promise of a good time. My mind can’t get over the contradiction.
Greenlight, arms raised, purple, pose, red, pout those lips and move that butt. Do the robot. “I don’t wanna say I’m sorry, because I know there’s nothing wrong,” But there is!
I’m spiralling.
“Hold me in your arms, cause I need you so.”
I rush out of the club and throw up in a side street. I can still hear the thump of every beat inside the building, feel it even.
I’m spiralling.

“Don’t be afraid, there’s no need to worry…”

I go to a nearby carpark and climb till I reach the top floor. The music is blasting from across the road, the neon lights shining on the night.
I’m gonna jump.
I stand on the edge. I hear the beginnings of a song called ‘Children’ from across the road. I know they’re dancing in there like it doesn’t sound sad. It must be me and my perception. No. The world is lost and I’m drowning in an abyss.
I stand on the edge. The beat the music has gotten heavier. Like my heart.
That lingering tone behind the beat, behind the melody it reeks of sadness. Or am I just too sad to hear the happiness?
I’m dizzy from all the bouncing on the dance floor.
I’m tired.
I lean forward and open my arms to the wind.
Close my eyes.
This is it.
I’m Spiralling.

Blue lights. Heavy heart.
Are those blue lights part of the club?
Sirens reach out like a hand over the music.
I’m spiralling.
My hairs a mess and my palms are wet with sweat.
I feel like I’ve had an electrocution to the head.
“You don’t want to do this, son.” A male voice says behind me.
The music coming from the club speaks for me. But he doesn’t hear it’s sadness, he hears it as people having a good night.

Last Swing

We have battles with our demons
Our own wars in our heads
Blood, sweat and tears today are still shed
But instead of world war
It’s hell inside our minds
With all of these tyrants
Pulling the wool over our eyes
We see him in the mirror
But we don’t look
We think the enemy is someone else
And that’s why you miss your own left hook
The enemy is within us
And to think he can be defeated
Is a lie we’re sold
All we can do is keep fighting
Some days we’ll win
But the fight is never over
Until you take your last swing.

Screws loose

An old one for today’s post

Me mind is racin’ two times a dozen
Bloomin insane!
Thats what the doctors’ll say
Bloomin doctors!
White coats!
Nah they wear flashy suits
Tie an all
What business they got wearing them?
They aint bloomin business men!

Lock me up and throw away the key!
Thats what they’d go and bloomin’ do!
Me? on a psych ward? Kiddin’ me aren’t ya?
t’ fookin sane for this lot
Got a few screws missin’
I admit
But they’ve only fallen behin’ bloody bed
I tell ya, my room is a right bloomin’ mess!

Eee! If me mother were to see it
She’d ‘ave a fit
Bloomin’ mothers
Always got somethin’ to complain about
Oh my, she don’t beat around the bush
No, comes right out with it!
“Ya flats a tip! Looks like a bomb site” She’ll say

Well i don’t mind
As long as i can find me screws
Before the bloody doctors
Notice i got ’em loose