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?
Mr. Brizell, we’re glad to see you again
I have a recurring dream which plagues me. At this point in its existence you could consider it a waking dream. Whenever shit goes bad, I find myself in a hotel lobby, bedraggled and hopeless, on what I presume is an unholy cocktail of substances, that keeps me barely lucid and leaves me periodically blacking … Continue reading Mr. Brizell, we’re glad to see you again
Escaping soullessness
I read a Guardian article not so long ago that branded us the 'Stitled Generation' it was a definition that to so many others meant nothing; yet for me, hit me like a cinderblock. With the title still swirling around in my head now. And ironically, I'm meant to be the guy, who doesn't believe … Continue reading Escaping soullessness
A note (written whilst listening to Frank Ocean’s Blonde)
i'm not out here trying to create art; all I'm trying to do is create something Honest. i am trying to create something that is a reflection of who am i, Where i am and Where the world is (in my eyes). art is just another label, like lesbian, gay and straight (to name a … Continue reading A note (written whilst listening to Frank Ocean’s Blonde)
Untitled (or) Leaving myself
Months ago, if you'd have asked, I would have probably said I was happy. Unconventional, yes, but happy nonetheless. Fast forward to today (4/12/17), all of that carefully curated happiness has rotted away. The dream is dead, and hope is a cold corpse. Now it's just me, a cold room, 7am wake-ups, and a notification-less … Continue reading Untitled (or) Leaving myself
life’s not cool
i’m currently in boxers and a flannel shirt, the sleeves rolled up. My friends are asleep on the couch. the cauldron is empty. halloween was a mess. I’m typing these words on my phone: from binge watching the second season of Stranger things (fairly decent sophomore season) to bumping into girls in short black dresses … Continue reading life’s not cool
Eyes red and raw
I’m listening to King Krule’s The Ooz (Released today). It’s a masterpiece. Now I’m back to familiar territory romanticising past experiences, thinking about the lost love. The ones who’ve moved on and figured their lives out. This year I met and fell for a girl from Spain. It was a strange, inexplicable romance, that felt … Continue reading Eyes red and raw
Her and the subsequent confusion
Been up to a lot this year; talked long with an ex(es), family tragedy and fell for someone. Now it's July, and all that's faded. Now I'm left listening to Conor Oberst's Ruminations. Knowing if I'd of stayed responding to her messages I'd of burnt out. Now maybe loneliness is my worst nightmare. Maybe in … Continue reading Her and the subsequent confusion
The carefree, godless, hopeless drifter muses once again
Currently I’m decaying in the lovely state of Florida on a relaxing break from the dreary remnants of shitty north western Britain. The Floridian sun fruitlessly trying to scorch my pale skin and my hair growing long and unkempt. I’m filling the days alone listening to Leonard Cohen, Nick Drake and Father John Misty on […]
I’m a guy with a hat and I know I like my hat
No reprise needed here. Recently I've been having what I guess could be called an awakening of some sort; think George Harrison or Josh Tillman becoming Father John Misty. I've begun work on something big to say the least. It's been brewing in me for a very long time. With five years in my rear … Continue reading I’m a guy with a hat and I know I like my hat