12/01 Direct Link
It was the strangest feeling. One I had never really felt before.

I desired you.

I wanted you. I have never wanted before. I wanted you to be mine, next to me, talking to me.

It felt...horrible. Masculine and dominating and terribly wrong. Something that I should not feel and something that I do not want to feel. There was no respect.

The wanting lurked in the back of my mind. I forced it there, out of the way, out of sight.

I am terrifed as to what would happen if I left my mind unchecked. Terrible things.
12/02 Direct Link
It's back! It's finally back!

Thank goodness. Thank all that is good and pure in the world, it's back!

I had no idea how much I needed this. How much I needed to write and write and write.

It feels like a river has started to run again. The boulder has been rolled away and everything has started flowing again.

It's back! 

I assume there will be many people who will be writing pretty much the same thing. Sometimes, you just have to go with the crowd.

It's nice that it's back. It's nice to be back.

It's back!
12/03 Direct Link

The ground is full of teeth, my dear. It is swallowing us up, grinding our meat and digesting us into nothingness.

Tombstone teeth, my love.

It's strange, is it not, that we put monuments of our deaths where we can all see them? Why do we want to remind ourselves of our cripling mortality, my one and my all, why do we want to drink in death with our eyes?

Why do our wills not crumble my love?

We don't cry, anymore. The graveyard, with it's air like a floating corpse in the sea, no longer terrifies us.

It should.

12/04 Direct Link
I realised something. Something very important.

I am the only sane person left in the world. Everyone else is crazy. Utterly crazy.

It was very liberating to realise that I was the only sane person in the world.

Everything started to finally make sense. The entire world and everyone's actions in it fell into place. Everyone else is insane. Barking mad. One pawn short of a chess set.

Happiness as sweet as a good nights sleep slipped through my body and painted a smile on my face. Knowing I was sane made me feel wonderful. I had to tell others.
12/05 Direct Link
'Hey! Guess what I realised!'

'That you should stop self-prescribing medication?'

'That I'm the only sane person left in the world!'

'You're the only sane person left?'

'In the world.'

'I see. So, what, everyone else is insane?'


'Including me?'

'Are you part of everyone?'


'Then yes. You are insane.'

'I don't think that I'm mad.'

'Well, you wouldn't. That's because you're mad. Only a mad person wouldn't think they are insane.'

'But if I thought I was insane...'

'Then that would prove that you are mad.'

'I...I don't know what to say. I honestly don't.'
12/06 Direct Link
He found it rather strange.

She was very pretty. Smart and interesting. However, there was something wrong. Very wrong. 

She was like radiation. The more longer his exposure to her, the more he felt sick.

He wanted more than anything to touch her hand, run his fingers through her hair, touch a hand to cher cheek.

He couldn't. He could barely look at her without needing to throw up. He shook, he quivered and his hair started to fall out.

Nevertheless, he had managed to find a solution. All he had to do was wear a lead suit.
12/07 Direct Link
Music is wonderful.

Nobody has made me as happy as quickly as listening to 'shake your tail feather'.

I love playing it. I love playing my piano. I would marry it, but it refused. It's waiting for a proposal from my double bass.

I could drown in music. Suffocate on the notes as they poured down my neck and groped my insides. Let the black notes pull out my eyes and cut off my vocal chords. Let the music destroy me and live in my place.

Music really is wonderful. It kills my soul and replaces it with something beautiful.
12/08 Direct Link
Orange. It feels like...

Like...when you're walking home. It's winter and the wind is raging against you as if it has a personal grudge.

The cold splinters through you as you force your way home.

You open the door and the warmth of the house bathes you. You walk to the kitchen and put on some toast. As soon as it has finished, you slather butter over it so that it melts all the way through.

You sit down, still wrapped in a scarf and hat, and take a bite of the soggy toast.

That's what orange is like.
12/09 Direct Link

If there should ever come a time
When you no longer care to talk to me,
When your gaze slips past my face
Or stares straight though me.

If the utterance of your lips
Should no longer be adressed to me
And your words and laughter wrap around
The body of another.

If you should ever come to treat me
With a metallic indifference
Look at me without emotion
Without feeling the faintest of flickerings in your heart.

Then, my love, my eternal hope of spring,
That is the time where I will take my life.

If you won't have it
No one will.

12/10 Direct Link
Don't fall too hard. We're on the edge as it is. Falling that hard, that fast, when we can already see the final drops of sand shooting through the hour glass, will only lead to trouble.

We will fall and crumple. The bones will snap and shatter, blood will be spilt in sacrifice and that mind, that wonderful brain, will flicker and fade.

Someone will have to come along and pick up the teeth, glue it all back together, brush the hair, polish the eyes and try to make the parts whole. Human. An impossible feat.

Don't fall at all.
12/11 Direct Link
Apparently, I used to intimidate one of my friends. She thought I was smart and was scared to talk to me.

I never thought that I could intimidate someone. To be honest, I find it strange that people have any opinion of me whatsoever.

I find it difficult to grasp the idea that people think something abotu me. That people like me, despise me, feel intimidated by me, are disgusted by me...

I tend to believe that people don't think or talk about me. That I am just an inauspicious element in their life. That I am not really there.
12/12 Direct Link
The snowflake maker took a sip of sherry and started work on the next flake. People still believed that each was individual. He had given up on that fad a long time ago.

Now, he just used four patterns.

He still remembered when he had first started out. His innocence led him to try and create snowflakes of unsurpassed originality and beauty.

However, as time wore on, his ideas sweltered away. He gave in and made two identical snowfalkes. No one noticed, which depressed him immensely. No one cared.

He sighed, took a larger sip, and contimued with his work.
12/13 Direct Link
'Hey! Look at this!'

'Look at what?'

'These two snowflakes!'

'What about them?'

'Don't you see? Don't you see it?'

'See what?'



'What do you mean, so? Everyone knows that each snowflake is unique, individual, non-identical!'

'Well, it looks like everybody was wrong.'

'They are! It's that wonderful?'

'I honestly don't think it is.'

'I mean, imagine what else everyone is wrong about.'

'Please don't.'

'Maybe the sky isn't blue.'

'Everyone knows the sky is blue.'

'But everyone could be wrong! This is amazing!'

'It's just as well you're the only sane person left.'

12/14 Direct Link
*To be sung to the tune 'California'*

Now that our exams are done
We sacrificed our fun
So we could be the perfect son
University here we come
Hoping to get at least a two:one

With the turning of the sun
Wowrk piles up and weighs a ton
I may have to grab a gun
University here we come
Hoping to get at least a two:one

Here we come!


That's all you get. I was starting to run out of things that rhymed with 'come'. I think this should be performed at the end of my final year.
12/15 Direct Link

I've realised that everyone is just trying to carve out a life for themselves.

Recently, I've been thinking of people as little worms, biting and slithering their way through a large rock, trying to fight their way to the blinding sunlight. People meet, help, hinder, get lost and die.

Then sometimes I think of life as being caught in a tumultuous wave, tossing you around with contempt until you no longer have any idea of time, space, location or self.

Life is not as easy as I once thought. Nor is it as hard. Ot just is, always and forever.

12/16 Direct Link
Santa had relocated his workshop to China. For a while, the Elves had been complaining about working conditions, demanding overtime and asking to form unions.

Santa could not let that happen, so he decided to relocate. Another positive was that it was now cheaper and quicker to make the toys.

Of course, there were no longer many toys to make. Children had been getting naughtier and naughtier every year. Very few were deserving of his gifts, and of those that were, they very rarely asked for anything. The idea of getting something for free was an alien concept for them.
12/17 Direct Link
There once was a boy who had to write. He hated writing immensely.

He wrote and wrote. He typed. He pulled out words from his guts and stabbed them onto the page, leaving a trail of blodd as he did so.

He couldn't stop himself. It hurt. It always hurt. It never stopped hurting but he couldn't stop.

Steam flew out of his eyes and screams ran out of his mouth. Fire fingered in his hair and blood burst forth from every vessel.

He died, face down, his energy spent and his life seeping through the cracks in the walls.
12/18 Direct Link
Give me a riff on a guitar. Snatching chords. Short. Full stop.

Then drums. Something you can nod your head to. A beat that makes you itch and twitch.

Piano. Ramming and hammering the notes in place with your right hand and a drunk, spider-like left hand. Rocking back and forth like a tormented man.

Knife stabbing, blue brass sounds over the top. Horns. Punching through and letting the daylight in.

Melody walking tentatively on the ground. Running up and down like an overactive, attention seeking child.

This is music. This is what we live for. Nothing else.
12/19 Direct Link
*How to write the perfect 100words entry*

(By someone who has yet to do so).

Firstly, one should endevour to put in a classical reference. Something about Paris or Helen should suffice. This will make you sound clever and add gravitas to your words.

Share your emotions! The best people to tell your inner-most feelings to are complete strangers.

Be depressive. Nobody wants to read about how happy you are. It just makes them feel worse. People want to know that there are others out there who ar having a worse time than themselves.

There you have it. Simple.
12/20 Direct Link
So. Here is the situation.

A middle-class white boy prays to do well in an exam. He does so, and thanks God.

People in Afria pray and they starve.


Is it that God is a racist? Or is it the fault of the Africans? Maybe they were not praying in the right way, with the right intensity to the right God. Maybe they were praying in the wrong place, at the wrong time with the wrong worlds.

I do not want to believe that God answers my prayers, because if I did, it means He's neglecting others.
12/21 Direct Link
Today is the day that I recieved a letter from the University of Oxford.

They have offered me a place to study biomedical science. It is a three year course. I need to achieve three A's at A level.

My mum burst in to tears when she read the letter. She can't understand how she could produce a child who could get in to Oxford. I don't understand why she has to be so hard on herself.

Of course, she now thinks something horrible is going to go wrong.

It seems I have inherited her view of the world.  
12/22 Direct Link
'Have you ever thought about killing yourself?'

'Of course.'

'What, really?'

'Yes. I find it strange that you're so shocked by that.'


'I think about lots of things. Killing myself just happens to be on of them. I don't plan to do it. I just think about how I could do it.'

'That's horrible!'

'Not really. They're just thoughts. Simple, floating thoughts that cannot possibly harm anybody, least of all myself. They mean nothing. They only gain meaning if I act upon them. Which I won't.'

'And you're sure you're the last sane person left?'

'Yes, or course.'
12/23 Direct Link
All I want for Chirstmas is you.

Wonderful, beautiful you. You, the person I talk to constantly in my head. You, the one who paints my dreams. You, who draws me along on strings like a puppet.

All I want is to be able to hold you in my arms and kiss you until the stars burn away their passion. I want to stroke your hair and touch your cheek and tell you that I love you more than life itself.

And a bike. A big, shiny bike. Red. With gears.

Actually, I'll just take the bike. It'll last longer.
12/24 Direct Link
I should probably stop writing these things.

Strange feelings well up in me when I read some words. Not nice, but not depressive. Feelings that are...tight. Suffocating. Restrictive.

I might write something that I would regret. I have written things that I regret...

My self-control is sacrificed for the words. My eyes wander all over the page. I feel...I don't know. I don't know anything anymore.

Or, I could just not read the words. That would work too.

I don't know. Everything is clouded. I don't know anymore. I just don't know. Who knows? I certainly don't.
12/25 Direct Link
Happy Birthday, Jesus.

One of the triplets gave you some cake when we went up to see them. Well, I say you. A wooden model of you.

Apparently, when I was younger, I started singing 'Happy Birthday Jesus' when the Chirstmas cake was brought out.

I wonder what your birthdays really were like. Whether you got presents. Invited round your friends and played 'Pin the tail on the Zealot'. Wrote 'Thank You' cards.

Your childhood couldn't have only been debating theology with the Pharisees, could it? You must have had a real childhood.

Well, if you didn't...

Happy Birthday Jesus.
12/26 Direct Link
We went up to visit my cousin and the triplets. It was really nice, having a large portion of the family there together. I've realised how much I like them.

We went to the park. I became the official helper-up-the-steps-of-the-slide. Very tiring work.

On the way back, we raced the triplets to see who could get back to the house first. Lousia and I won, with very little cheating involved at all...

They're bigger and louder and cleverer and very good at giving out presents.
They even have their own distinct personalities.
12/27 Direct Link
Today was one of the most contented days I have ever had the pleasure of experiencing.

I sat in bed until the middle of the day, reading a book, eating chocolate buttons and reading a book.

I knew I should be doing work, but I honestly didn't care. It was wonderful. Really, really wonderful.

There was no feeling of depression or anxiety or pain. There was nothing and no-one prying on my mind, clawing at my thoughts like buzzards.

It was a sedate form of existence, one that required little thought. I loved it. Adored it. It was beautiful.
12/28 Direct Link

Make me immortal with a kiss.

That is all we ask for, isn't it my love? Just the opportunity to be immortal. To live forever.

We don't have to be alive for this to happen, do we dear? Of course not. As long as we remain in memories, pose in photos and have our words read, we live on.

Death scares me, my darling. It should scare you, too. It should scare everyone, frighten them into madness.

Make me immortal with a kiss, my love. It is all we can hope to achieve in this flickering, fleeting life of ours.

12/29 Direct Link
I recently had an email through from a 'woman' named 'Natalie'.

The email header said 'So you're a rocket scientist?'

I'm pretty sure that I'm not a rocket scientist. I wasn't the last time I checked.

In the email, 'Tracy' outlined her love for me, even though we have never met. A direct quote:

'The horizon is sure to be one of the most beautiful things on the earth, but its beauty will pale compared to what we feel to each other.' 

I'm not entirely convinced that this is true. I'm not even convinced Natalie is a woman... 
12/30 Direct Link
I'm not going to lie. It was more than rather unsettling when I saw someone using my photo and name to write things that weren't mind. Very strange indeed.

Still, I don't think you mean any harm. I think.

Why did you do it? Of all the people, why me? Why not just do your own? worries. I hope.

I hope your english assignment went well. I'm not really sure what else to say at the moment...

A stranger copying me from a foreign land. All part of life's rich tapestry, I suppose.

It's still quite strange, though.
12/31 Direct Link
It took me a while to realise. To finally understand the thoughts and feelings that had been running around my head screaming.

I think it was to do with the sky. It was a faded pink, and the clouds whispered over the sky. It reminded me of you.

I love you. 

There is no one I would rather be with than you. There is no one I would rather talk to or walk to.

You make me happy. You make me happier than 'shake your tail feather' ever will.

Have a happy New Year, whatever it may hold.