"It's 9 O'clock on a Saturday
The regular crowd shuffles in
There's an old man, sitting next to me
Making love to his tonic and gin"
It's not quite 9 O'clock.
Its 11:37.
And it's not a Saturday.
It's Thursday night.
But the same feeling is there.
Routine.
Regularity.
A sense of the similar.
No change.
I'm sitting here at my pc, as I have done many nights before.
Listening to the music of Ronnie Day flowing from my speakers.
MSN is open.
A few conversations going.
But my interest is minimal.
"A man lies in his bed in a room with no door.
He waits, hoping for a presence
Something, anything, to enter.
After spending half his life searching he still felt as blank as the ceiling at which he's staring.
He's alive but feels absolutely nothing. So is he?"
As others drift to bed, I stay connected, feeling somehow compelled to stay here.
My eyes are weary, but I can't close them.
I wonder what else there is?
Could I be doing anything more productive?
I think of what I could do.
Write poetry?
A song?
Draw.
I feel the need to make something.
Get feelings out.
But my laziness overrides my mind.
I find it impossible to motivate myself.
My back aches, yearning for rest.
A chance to lie down and release the tension in my muscles.
But I refuse to relent to it.
I allow the dull pain to nag at my thoughts.
Drifting through my mind, as thoughts of the day, my friends, my wants flash before it.
The slow beat of my music floats through me.
I find myself swaying gently to the rhythm.
It's a sad song.
The melancholy tune echoes the world I see around me.
I think about the life that surrounds me.
The dull monotony of my empty life.
What am I?
A speck of paint on the canvas of life.
I am nothing.
"I am the all singing, all dancing crap of the world."
But am I?
Or am I really something better?
Is there a meaning to my apparently meaningless existence?
Maybe there is a reason.
a purpose.
But what is it?
And how can I find it?
"Lying sideways atop crumpled sheets and no covers he decides to dream. Dream up a new self for himself."
Well.
Me?
Well that's what streams from my fingers as I try to express myself.
But if you know me, or ever meet me.
It's not what you'll see.
I'm lively, hyper.
Often mildly annoying.
I mock those I like.
Tear into those I love.
But it's all in jest.
And if you take me the wrong way.
I apologise.
Don't take me too seriously.
Hell, I just managed to stream out mileage of pure emo.
I love my drama.
I love the feeling of being on stage, facing an audience.
Knowing that if you screw up, that's it.
There are no second chances.
I love the way that through drama I can make a point.
I can attempt to change the society in which I live.
Make an effort to make a friendlier, more accepting place for future generations.
When it comes to plays, I'm a sucker for the psychological stuff.
I love to mess with the audience's head.
Question their strongest values.
Obliterate their harshest stereotypes.
Issue based drama.
That's what I want to do.
Spend my whole life working with plays that really make you think.
Music is my comfort.
I crawl into my speakers, and isolate myself from everything.
I create a utopian world in which i can ignore everything.
I can block out the blights and plagues of the world.
I play bass.
Occasionally in a band
Although our practises are becoming rarer and rarer.
I rather enjoy the company of my friends.
Be it crushing everyone in Stephen's hole
Or Cruising in the back of Gemma's car.
Raving to Early morning radio with a flashing McDonald's toy.
Baker, Gemma, Liss and Fliss are four of the best.
All are good for a laugh.
Or a good chat when the need arises.
I'm rather aware that I'm rambling.
And have been for rather a while.
So yea.
Basically, If you got this far.
You just read a stream of my consciousness.
Pouring from my mind to my Myspace.
Through my fingers.
But now I must leave.
The drunk and rowdy in the next room are derailing my thought train.
Not that it was running a clear course in the first place.
But the scent of a Muzzy's wafting through the door tempts me into it's warm succulent taste.
I think it's dog this week.
You scored as Rocker, Mosher. Your A Rocker!
Rocker, Mosher
70%
Skater
35%
Goth
30%
Trendy
25%
Prepy
15%
Chav, Townie, Rude Boy, Ned, Kev
5%
Emo
5%
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