Does time ever stop? I'm clinging onto the clock hands, but i'm slipping. you're all watching, waiting for me to slip. i know no one's gonna catch me. i'm lost in the hate of myself. the nightmares are back. Since June nothing has changed. i'm stuck in a painfully torturous cycle. ben goddamn you talk … Continue reading Oh Mr. Brizell, what have you done now?
Time is passing me by, and I don’t have a hold on it or life anymore. Meanwhile Pitchfork today just gave two best new music tags to the new albums by Earl Sweatshirt and The 1975, both well deserved. On the other side of today today I found myself awake at 4 am my head … Continue reading i wander the woods in my dreams and hope to find an answer to my existential crises, i find only nothing
Well hell, there's a need to overdo it with painkillers and spiritual self-harm, till even the Grim Reaper knows I'm too far gone. Things change? I bet you've heard that one before? Christ I've said it too many times before, let's see if it sticks. A loved one told me, 'running' helps with your depression. It … Continue reading Watching Bojack Horseman on anti-depressants
I hate being awake, and damn, death's like sleep. My life got me spinning This moment got me nauseous, this morning had me wishing i was dead. My eyes aching Struggling to write Am I just unwittingly happy, or accepting death. self-hating Voices in my head, don't answer that, And you all fully well know … Continue reading Poem: Disarray
it isn't a particularly nice world or time; I'm exhausted and hopeless after a six-year long battle with severe depression, anxiety and suicidal thoughts. It's easy to say it's been a long one. I'm too lazy to write a suicide note, and as far as I know this isn't it, for months I've struggled to … Continue reading (Or) so say they say
Mixing alcohol and paracetamol, isn’t just a good rhyme, it's usually a sign that shit went south at some point, and trust me it did. I never anticipated saying the words ‘suicidal thoughts’ to someone would be so hard, let alone to a loved one. Of course it's after saying it, I realised 5 years … Continue reading Ben- ‘it’s Okay, Tell me’ (or new habits die old)
I just wanted to be Bukowski. it's three years on, and look at me now; a severe depressive, who doesn't get out of bed before 12pm, and can barely handle his emotions. Writing has become an afterthought, my own ambition handicapped by my overwhelming sense of futility. I need to stop using my blog in … Continue reading eyes crying? nose running? uterus bleeding? hotel trivago?