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03/01 Direct Link
The lion entered with its usual roar.

It jumped on to the tops of the houses and tore at the rooftops, clawing at the tiles with monsterous anger.

Savagely, its teeth ripped and its claws sunk and shredded the trees. It tried to uproot them, maim them, burn them to the ground with the power of its anger.

Nothing could stop it. It was hopeless. Its strength and fury stalked through the land, snarling and snapping, drunk on the destruction that it created.

The lion entered with its usual roar, and the rest of the country cowered in fear.
03/02 Direct Link

Callooh callay oh frabjous day! I can hear again!

When I speak, it no longer sounds to me as if I am underwater. When other people speak, I no longer have to invade their personal space in order to understand what they say.

Music sounds like music should. Every sound in proportion, just like the creator intended.

No longer am I subjected to having to hear my blood flow through my ear. The whoosh of my life blocking out sounds.

I never realised how much I love hearing. Going deaf would be horrific. I can't imagine a world lacking music.

03/03 Direct Link

'You ever get that feeling? The one where you want to leave the material world and just go travelling with nothing. Just collecting languages and stories and telling them to all manner of people. Where you are tired to just living and working towards an undefined goal. This great, undefined thing that you just can't bring yourself to care about. You realise there may not be more to life, but you would just like to find that out for yourself rather than relying on other people. You know what I mean?'

'I like crayons.'

'Yeah. You know what I mean.'

03/04 Direct Link

He was staring at a bottle of beer. She had to ask.

'Why are you staring at that?'

'As a test.' He said. 'It represents an oblivion. A cessation of all feelings and thoughs. A void which I can sink into where my screaming mind will finally settle down, become dormant. As soon as this passes my lips, I abandon myself in favour of a cold dullness. The pain, the constant, nagging pain will be gone.'

'So why don't you drink it?'

He smiled.

'Because it represents oblivion. I don't hurt so much that I'm willing to give up feeling.'

03/05 Direct Link
The world seems to be made of pure glass.

I remember a time when it wasn't. Where it was made of earth that you could rub into your fingers and leaves that you could crunch and grass that smelled like a freshly-ground summer morning.

Now all that has gone. It's all cold and slippery and ever so fragile.

Sometimes, I'll flick the pavement with my finger and listen to the *ping* echo down the street. I'm afraid that one day I'll ping the pavement too hard and the world will crack and shatter right there in front of me.
03/06 Direct Link
I'll regret writing this.

One day, I will look back on this entry, with its pandering to the emotion of love, and laugh at myself.

I will cringe at the softness of my writing. Pull away from the horrors of the metaphors and similies. The terrible sweetness.

This entry will be too full of that changing, rolling emotion. It is something that I can no longer control, no longer pin down or ignore. It blossoms out of my crimson mouth.  

I wish I could stop it. I really do. But for now, it seems, I truly love you.
03/07 Direct Link
He was always smiling. It was scary, the way that he always wore a smile.

He had no reason to be happy. Nobody has any reason to be happy, but he still looks it.

When walking down the street, he would smile at strangers. Normally, they would look away quickly or just glare back. One day, someone actually smiled back and it made him happier than he had ever been.

It hurt, to pull up that smile all the time. Sometimes he had to force it in place, nail it to his face.

Mostly it grew there all by itself.
03/08 Direct Link
'You ever get the feeling that life is ganging up on you? That...I don't know. Life has this big set of scales, and every time something good happens, something bad has to happen in order to balance it out. You can never enjoy happiness because you are too busy looking for the next bad thing to happen. You get stuck, and every time something bad happens, it just seems to validate your theory. You know what I mean?'

'I painted a picture of a flower. He is called Billy. He likes the colour bright green.' 

'You are so understanding.'
03/09 Direct Link
'You could make a crisp packet sound beautiful.'

That really was the nicest thing that anyone has ever said to me ever and it made me feel wonderful and happy and joyful ever so joyful and I am going to put it on my gravestone in big letters.

It really was a lovely thing to say.

I hope you had a happy birthday. Adulthood is not so different from teenage-hood or childhood. You still have the same thoughts and feelings and hopes and emotions. The main difference, I find, is that you have to pay more for most things.
03/10 Direct Link
I wonder what I feel, deep down inside?

What do I feel, or think?

Do I hurt because I hurt, or because hurting seems to be the thing I should do?

Do I feel happy because I am happy, or because I am putting on a brave front?

What is feeling? Should you break up that word, delve to the core and analyse the contents, what would you find?

Should I ever take a scaple to my body, rip apart the bones, drill into the heart and extract the soul, what would I find? Would there be anything to find?
03/11 Direct Link

Oh my brother. How I have forsaken you.

Your guilt is like nails blasting through my hands. Your sadness is a spear in my side and your words layer my head like thorns.

I would die if it would make you feel better. Make it any easier for you to live your life and love and grow as tall as the cross.

Know that I have risen again, to a new body, again. Whilst I am far from perfection, I no longer bleed from every pore. I'm looking for another angel to give me strength.

Rise up, my brother. 

03/12 Direct Link
I remember back when I started secondary school. I thought that I had big, grown-up thoughts. Childishness had been locked away and now, finally, I was an adult.

It surprised and annoyed me that people failed to treat me as such.

Now, I look back at myself then, and the new people staring school now, and all I can do is laugh at myself. They seem so small. My thoughts and worries were nothing back then. Nothing.

I have a feeling that, in another six years, I will look back at myself and feelings that I have and laugh.
03/13 Direct Link
'Are superlatives the best?'

'Of course they are.'

'But then...doesn't that also mean that superlatives are the worst?'

'It certainly seems that way.'

'It always seems that way. There never seems to be any room for the middle-ground any more. Everyone has to have strong opinions. Nothing is ever just...fine. It is either the best or the worst, the happiest or the most depressing, the most radient or most horrific. When did that happen?'

'I don't know.'

'You know...I think superlatives are mediocre.'

'Do you really?'

'Yes. Yes I do.'

'Then I suppose you are right.'
03/14 Direct Link
The rise and fall, the gentle rhythm undercut by the thump of the hoe.

It melts into the earth and then, with a slight groan, the pull-back. Piles of dirt and grass riding the wave. More are to come.

Muscles protesting at the strength needed. The trees laughing at this feeble human with his feeble attempts to control what refuses to be controlled.

Still he forces the metal back to its work, more scraping and pulling and smoothing.

For the briefest of moments I stop and think. By God, Seamus Heaney, I finally know what you were talking about.
03/15 Direct Link
There was a man who checked his phone to see whether he had any voicemails.

After he had checked, he thought, 'Maybe somone phoned me whilst I was checking.'

So he checked again.

And he kept on checking. He couldn't help himself. He just had to be sure that no-one had left him a message. Sometimes, someone didi leave him a message, which only served to fuel is paranoia. It gave him a justification for continuing with his actions.

In the end, he died, standing up, still listening for the beeps that signified that someone had left a message.
03/16 Direct Link
You know that you stole we away.

With that look of yours, all innocence and coyness.

You knew what that look was. You filled it with hooks and barbs and drew me to you. So you could spirit me away.

I wanted you to steal me. To take me. To lead me astray. I needed you to lock me in that cage.

(I still remember you staring at me at night. I can never forget those eyes. Fish, that darted around.)

Do you know that I escaped? Being trapped was fun for a while. But it soon lost its appeal.
03/17 Direct Link
I remember there...being a point.

There was certainly a point. I remember it. It was big and...pointy. Like a point should be.

But...it all seems so clouded. Like when it's foggy. You try to see what's dehind the muffled wall, but all that happens is your eyes start hurting.

There was a meaning to the things I was doing. A purpose. Something that drove me. Made me want to do things. A point. A real, touchable point.

I don't even remember what I'm supposed to be doing. The point was...I don't know.

I just can't remember...
03/18 Direct Link
They came again, today.

Much more defined. Sharper features. Louisa looks like a girl now.

The strange thing is, you can acutally have a conversation with them. You can ask them a question, and they will answer. They can tell you that they would prefer strawberry ice-cream over vanilla.

They seemed to enjoy my instruments, and only put one thing down the body of my guitar. I managed to get it out.

They are these hot, searing bundles of laughter and shouts and screams and running and climbing. I can't help but wonder what they will turn in to.
03/19 Direct Link
I would burn myself to a pile of ashes for you, if only you would...

'You're not writing another one of those entries about your yearning, burning passion are you?'

'Maybe. Does it matter if I am?'

'It does, kind of.'

'And why is that?'

'Well, it's just a bit boring, if you know what I mean. Self obsessed and egotistical and ever so slightly weird.'

'Really?'

'Yeah. I mean, do you honestly think this is the best place to play out your emotional life?'

'I suppose not.'

'Suppose?'

'Fine. I know not. Thank you for letting me know.'
03/20 Direct Link
'You know when it's one of those really glassy days? When the sun is shining and it's like you are looking through really clear glass. Everything is so sharp and crisp and you just want to touch the air and feel it crackle under your fingertips. You want to lie on the grass and laugh and laugh at the absurdities of the world.'

'You know, I think love is like an old damp lettuce sandwich. It doesn't matter how hungry you are for it, you inevitably end up disappointed.'

'What the hell are you talking about?'

'I don't even know...'
03/21 Direct Link
im so broken you dont even understand all i want to do is howl at the concrete and the buildings and the whole wide system because im so scared and tired and alone you dont know what i mean tomorrow i will go back and ill laugh and smile and do those normal things that people do to block out the crushing emptyness but know for now that in this very moment i am free and i am telling you that i am lost and broken and need you more than anything i have ever needed before.

I love you.
03/22 Direct Link
Today, I was stabbed in the face with a Kitkat.

Apparently, they were aiming for my mouth, but they 'missed'.

All I did was offer someone a piece of it, and the next thing I knew, I was being violently assaulted by a biscuit covered in chocolate.

They thought that I should eat it, as I am too skinny.

Which is a lovely sentiment. It really is. Stabbing me in the face is not. That is called 'assult'.

I think that this sums up what the last few weeks have been like. Full of good intentions that have gone wrong.
03/23 Direct Link
The person who stabbed me with a Kitkat also said that I had a pure soul, so all is forgiven.

I wonder if there really is someone out there who has a friend who is comforting them saying 'There must be someone out there who thinks like you do. There must be. And I bet they are being comforted by someone right now. So there is no need to worry. You'll find him soon.'

It would be pretty wonderful if that was the case. And it might even be true, even if it isn't. If you know what I mean.
03/24 Direct Link
Bees.

There was a bee outside my window. It was the first one in a long time.

Every year, when the summer starts, a bee will always fly outside my window in the morning without fail. It must be on their flight chart.

I used to be scared of bees. Eventually, I became bored of being scared, so I stopped.

I liked hearing that bee. It reminded me that summer really is on its way. Colours will flower up everywhere and the sun will crash headlong into the grass.

Fly on little bee. Bring summer one step closer to us.
03/25 Direct Link
I think I may have re-discovered the point, in all its pointing glory.

That deep, choking fog that had clawed at my eyes for so long is finally starting to slink away. Everything feels sharper. More pointy. Like I could cut my tongue on the air that I breathe, feel the blood well up in my mouth and know that I am a living being.

This is a rather nice new feeling and I intend to grasp onto it with all my strength and might.

I don't want to slip back into the fog. I don't want to escape.
03/26 Direct Link
You are a good man.

I wonder what that means? To be good. To be a man.

Am I either of these things? Possibly. I try to be good. I'm not really sure that I care about being a man.

Being me is good enough. I still have yet to master it. One day, I will. Be me so much that it hurts.

Being good, on the other hand, I think is easier. Being nice is easy. I like people. They are interesting. Helping them allows me to study them at close range.

People are just amazing creatures. I love them.
03/27 Direct Link
Whenever I am feeling a little bit sad and lonely, I will sometimes turn to The Student Room website. I will look to the forum on 'relationships'. This will invaribaly cheer me up.

Here are some titles.

'A silly question maybe, but are most Indian girls in the UK conservatives?' - That is a silly question.

'Have sex with others/escorts until reunited with long distance partner?' - Why? Just...why?

'errrr love?' - Yup. That's what it's like.

'Am I ridiculous for wishing that my girlfriend was a virgin?' - Yes. Yes you are.

It always makes me feel better about myself.
03/28 Direct Link
Today was the day that I finally became a man. I have blisters on my hands from using a gardening tool.

I was only out there for about 50 minutes. It seems that my hands are made of damp paper.

They look like two infected eyes, staring at me with their red sockets. One of them is weeping ever so slightly. Whether from pain or pleasure I cannot tell.

In time this will heal and those eyes will close for an eternity, leaving nothing behind of their existance. They will only remain on this page, clothed in these inadequate words.
03/29 Direct Link
Inoculation. Just one sharp, nailing pinch. You know it is doing you good.

The pain flitters into you for a brief moment, strolls around your body and then, with a cheery goodbye and a tip of the hat, leaves you alone.

You can feel that metalic tasting pain doing you good. Knitting muscles together, preparing the skin should another assault come.

An inoculation must be topped up. Otherwise, it stops being effective. Otherwise, you are once again vulnerable.

I can still feel that inoculation in my blood. I can still feel it in my tired vains.

I can still feel...
03/30 Direct Link
There are those films, where twop people are racing in cars. The good guy always wins and gets the girl.

The bad guy always has a car that, right at the end, is on fire. It's doors have fallen off, it is bellowing out black smoke, it only has three wheels and the bumper is dragging comically on the ground. It trundles past the finish line, shivers for a second, and then finally disintegrates into a pile of metal mess, and the bad guy just sits there with a dezed expression on his face.

I feel like that guy's car.
03/31 Direct Link

Balls are interesting. School balls. Where you dress up. That sort of ball.

A few of the females wore dresses that seemed to accentuate their boobs. I noticed this from a purely fashion perpective, of course.

I like looking at people. The couples that walk together and do couple-y things because that's what couples are meant to do at a ball. Have pictures taken and grin too much and force intimacy upon each other.

Then there are those cool kids who laugh too loudly and dance too frantically.

Then there are the bitter and twisted ones on the sidelines.