Ghosts

Today i saw something.

I was waiting for the number 7 bus to come at about 10:30 at night at the bus exchange, sitting in the seats on the side at platform C, reading a book. Hard Times, Charles Dickens. To my right sat a black-bob-haired girl maybe 20-21 wearing a red coat with black buttons. Across from me sat a young mother 23-25 with her child who was maybe 3-4 and they all sat and waited. Finally to my left sat a man. This man was maybe 38-45 it was hard to tell. He had a rather unshaven, coarse look to him with a sandy beard and unkempt and unwashed hair pulled back into a small ponytail. He wore trackpants and a jacket. He had a small star tattoed onto his cheek below his eye. He never said a word.
As I sat there, on one of the odd times I would look up from my book to think, I saw the young boy smiling. Not just smiling, but grinning ear to ear in a way that threatened to take his top off. It was a infectious smile, one that the veiwer cannot help but reciprocate. He then covered his face for a second or too, giggled, and then threw his hands out wide. He burst into a refrain of laughter and once again smile that could help but be mirrored upon my own face. I looked to the left and saw the man doing the same thing. He covered his face and uncoverd it, covered it and uncovered, uncovered and covered it smiling all the while.
As I watched them, enthralled in their game, the actions changed. The man shook his fist at the kid in mock anger and the kid laughed and shook his head. This time the kid did no give a sympathetic action. This time he did something different.
He held up two fingers.
The man laughed.
The kid laughed.
And the girl began to sing... I don't know what song it was.. In fact it was less a song than something pure melody, feeling cutting through the cold surround that didn't seem to belong here, doves amongst a murder of crows.
The man's eyes watered and he pulled back his sleeve a little. Weeping sores and scabs. Junky tattoos.
"Smart little kid" he whispers.
And the kid...
The kid looked sad...
The kid looked sad...
The kid looked sad...
Boy, he looked sad...



Then my bus came...
So I left...
I wish i hadn't...
I want to know what comes next...
But hell, don't we all want to know that.
So i got on my bus.
So they dissapeared into my memory.
Ghosts.

Music I Make.

http://alonetone.com/rosarybead/playlists/hope-for-the-evryman
listen to Fairy Lights And Flying Machines first. I'm actually rather proud of it.

Hello Friends

Gotta get up. Gotta get down. Got be cool. Gotta sleep 'round.
Gotta be nice. Gotta get clean. Gotta be right. Gotta be mean.

You are what I am and we are what we are. Andrew, I am. Andrew is tired in the 3rd person.

Oh God, she can't be dead...

Hello again, this is Andrew here reaching out to you through the world wide web.
This is another of those blogs and here i am displaying what could be a condescending, frivolous attitude to my blog. I notice many people do it. Its obviously a defense mechanism. Of course we wouldn't want to actually appear to care about anything now would we? Because we all know that when we care we get hurt. So we tippity-tap-tap typo on our keyboards our pseudo-deep thinking with our pretense of oh-so-sophistication, to-cool-for-school attitude.
Just like I'm doing now.
Haha, Andrew, that was deep, pat on the back for Andrew, everybody laughs.

I feel Apathy. Apathy for those who don't know is like self pity. The kind of self pity that saps the energy from your bones and leaves you dry. It takes colour from your eyes and leaves you grey. It puts the world through a bad copy machine so you get that crappy black and white speckled picture instead of the vibrancy that other people see.

Oh aren't I complex.

there it goes again. Cynicism. making sure you understand that i don't actually care. making sure you understand i don't actualy care. making sure you understand i don't actually care.

You can't hurt me.

"Oh i forgot to ask, how did you feel after they named that place in London after you? You know, Prickadily circus?"

I said that to some cock on the bus today as i was getting off...





I felt rather pleased with myself.

Here in which the author describes to the good reader his journey to the place of Hornby

Today i had a compulsion. You know, one of those things people think are like meaningful? Like the big dude is saying do it, its cool? yeah those things. Well i had a compulsion to walk to hornby mall. So i did. Pretty exciting so far.
Well as i slowly moved towards my destination, alternating between walking and jogging cause i felt like i should do more excercise (one of those compulsion things again) i found something on the side of the road. It was a two old school books, ragtagged and shited, lying flapping on the side of the road, a pair of roadkilled, struck down deaded birds, feathers flapping in the wind still, mocking the life once instilled in them. So being of the curious sort i picked them up and read.
....................................................................................
.................................Jo Bloggs..........................................

....................................Page 1...........................................

Thought Analysis

I'm meant to be doing homework
Rambo is cute
her butt was cute
you can't wait on her like that
your too old
Thought what if this doesn't work
Thought about cup day
Thought about Mama's hours
Thought that i'm eighteen
Thought that i could have a personality disorder
Thought i must be studying
Thought that i'm a gypsy
Thought that she needs to have time off
thought that she's worked too hard
thought that we're all not perfect
thought that my brothers okay
thought bout oscar
thought i nearly fell asleep
thought that i'm cold
thought thougt that i try to be perfect at uni
thought i dn't wannna be eighteen
thought what if i fail
thought i am a failure
thought i get so angry
thought i wanna die
thought well i'm nearly there
thought i don't wanna go to prize giving
thought i care wat people think about me
thought they must get annoyed
thought tough love
thought mum musn't think its that bad
thought niks a dick
thought i'm cold
thought she hates me
thought its sweet
......................................Page 2.........................................

i've had enough, literally
i'm cold and wet and small
and i want 2 die
i no lnger want 2 fight
i'm ready 2 surrender.................thought gotta keep
after exams i'm dead.................doing this
i'm gone underwater................thought about lady
exams are over its quits...........wanting daughter to
i give in............................achieve something
i give up.............................thought about dave
i resign, i can't, i wept, i'll see....thought hayley
i want to go............................thought i'm tired t
live alone and safe.....................................bored
i've been so narcissistic i know.........thought i wish i didn't
i'm ashamed about that...................have to face these
my thoughts r ruining me.................thoughts
i can't i want it over again
i give in, dad its hard
dad i'm angry
dad its cold and i'm scared
r u alive?
i don't wanna do this
what if i can't do this/
i can't be stuffed
i'm tired and sore
i don't wanna have these thoughts nemore
i seriously don't - i'm tired of them
i wanna be different
i wanna feel different
my head hurts
I'M A LESBIAN
...i wanna go home
...i'm tired and i want to go home
...i'm tired i'm bored i'm sick
...i fear i'm dead, i'm done i'm out
...i give up, i give in, i give out, i can't i wont
...can't live with thoughts...

...thought its going to be alright
....................................End..............................................