05/01 Direct Link

You tell fairy stories to your children before they go to sleep. They are, therefore, desgined in such a way as to ensure that they are repetative and easy to follow. This means that, should you fall asleep, you know what is going to happen. You know that beautiful woman is a secret princess, and she will be rescued by the price and the evil witch will die in some satisfyingly horrific way.

This means that you still feel that you have been told a story, even when you miss half it.

This fairy story starts with a woman. Obviously.

05/02 Direct Link
She had hair that couldn't decide whether it was black or brown. Dark brown eyes. Skin as pale as the moon. And, of course, she was the most beautiful woman in the land.

Her father was terrified for her, as most fathers of teenagers are. He was terrified that she would be taken away from her by some pretencious prince with lovely hair but a lack of anything under it. To this end, he kept her inside, telling her that should she ever step out side, the sun would burn her into a crisp.

Which was a wonderful, fail-proof plan.
05/03 Direct Link
There was, of course, a witch. Had there been a psychologist in the land, they may have thought that this witch was desperate for any form of attention, probably due to being brought up by loveless parents. And the fact that she was a witch. It comes with the territory.

She would start fires and tip cows. Sometimes, she would lock herself in her room and refuse to come out.

She wanted to be beautiful, thinking this would be th best way to gain the attention she wanted. Using her magic, she tried to find the most beautiful woman.
05/04 Direct Link

This, of course, led her to the girl we have previously been occupied with.

Her father was out. This always happens. Otherwise the story could not progress.

The witch knocked on the door. The girl opened it, and quickly withdrew into the darkness of the room.

'What's the matter?' Said the witch. 'Why keep yourself in this darkness? It's a lovely day outside.'

At which point, she went over to the windows and drew back the curtains, letting the sunlight saunter into the room and onto the girl.

There was a loud, tremendous scream as the light touched the girl.

05/05 Direct Link
Nothing happened, of course. Not in a real sense. But one must remember that girl had been told, in graphic detail, what would happen to her should she ever encounter sunlight.

So she screamed, because she could feel her skin ripping itself from bones, nerves turning to dust and muscle roasting. Even if it wasn't happening.

The witch stood there, watching in a horrified silence. She was not aware that the girl was afraid of the light. She just thought that the light had meant the girl could not see her face, and was so disgusted that she started screaming.
05/06 Direct Link
The witch was angry. This is understandable. If you think someone is screaming due to your ugliness, you would be annoyed.

In retribution, the witch turned the beautiful girl into a tree. This is less understandable. Very few of us have the ability to do this, and would only do it sparingly if we could.

The witch turned her into a willow tree. Then she left. There was little else for her to do.

When the girl's father came home, he saw the open door and the willow and had no idea what had happened. This is, I think, understandable.
05/07 Direct Link

Her father eventually came to the conclusion that her daughter had figuered out that he had been lying to her and had finally decided to run away.

He tried to find her. He even went to the witch in the hope that she would be able to help. She refused to, rather vehemently.

In the end, he gave up. He had to. He assumed that she was living a life somewhere else, with a wonderful prince in a wonderful castle with wonderfully annoying children.

All the while the willow stood there in silence. This is what trees tend to do.

05/08 Direct Link
There was a prince. He did not really want to be a prince, but it's a very difficult job to resign from. You generally need a peasant with ideas above his station to do it for you.

When he had been born, a good fairy had given him a pendant that would point towards the place and person that would grant him everlasting happiness. Recently, it had started floating in the air and pointing in a northerly direction.

Sighing, the prince decided that he should probably do something about it. He went to the stables to mount his trusty steed.
05/09 Direct Link
The prince's trusty steed was a talking bi-polar giant tortoise called Benjamin. He had tried using a talking horse, but it just went on about its sexual exploits and how large its penis was.

Benjamin, on the other hand, made perfectly melancholoy statements about life, which were amusing in their pathos and cynicism.

The going was slow, but that suited the prince. He enjoyed looking at the trees. He loved all the shades of green that flouted themselves on the branches. He would try and spot the bird's nests and tried to imagined himself hatching out of an egg.
05/10 Direct Link
'...which means that our lives revolve around pain. It is central to our being. When we are angry with someone, we turn to pain. When joy is at its upmost, we say that we laugh so much that it hurts. Every experience leads to pain, and pain is where we stay.'

The prince aknowledged this was a small 'hmm'. There was no point arguing with Benjamin. He always thought that he was right and was tenaciuos in his defence of his opinions.

'Pain is all there is. At birth, there is pain. At death, there is pain. Pain is all.'
05/11 Direct Link
Eventually, the prince's pendant led him to a house. Next to the house grew the most beautiful tree he had ever seen.

It had the smoothest, whitest bark. Gentle leaves dangling branches that shivered with the wind. Reaching out a hand, he gently caressed the trunk.

The pendant that was around his neck exploded.

Sighing, the Prince tied Benjamin to the tree and knocked on the door of the house, assuming that the love of his life must be inside. He wasn't sure he wanted to meet the love of his life. He wasn't sure if he could handle it.
05/12 Direct Link
The door was opened by a middle-aged man.

'Hello. Do you have a daughter?'

The man burst out crying.

The prince turned to Benjamin.

'Did I say something offensive?'

'Your very being is offensive.' replied Benjamin.

'I'm sorry,' said the middle-aged man, 'but a month ago, I left the house, and when I returned, my daughter had gone. She was very beautiful.'

'Which, of course, makes it that much worse.' said the prince. 'If she had been ugly, worries really.'


'So you have no idead where she is?'


'Stupid pendant.'

The prince sighed despondantly.
05/13 Direct Link

'Looks like we'll have to go home.' said the prince.

'Good.' said Benjamin.

'What a pointless trip.'

'Everything is pointless. We're going to die. All we do is fill in the interim space with meaningless activites to stop us thinking about it.'

The prince turned to the tree.

'At least we saw this. This really is a lovely tree.'

'Trees are meaningless.'

'Your face is meaningless.'

'Yes. Yes it is.'

The prince looked at the tree.

'You know what? I'm going to hug this tree.'

And he did. And then...

He also turned into a tree.


Goodnight, child.

05/14 Direct Link
I don't really like people calling me crazy.

I'm sure that they do it in jest. I am also sure that sometimes, maybe, possibly, I do or say certain things that may indeed seem strange.

But I'm not crazy. I swear I'm not.

Crazy is a detachment from reality, a denial of all the things that make up civilisation. Crazy means that the things I think and imagine are things that should be not thought of or imagined.

I like my thoughts. They keep me company and stop me getting cold. They're my friends.

I'm not crazy. I'm perfectly sane.
05/15 Direct Link

What do I want to say? Do I even want to write?

I keep up with this for no reason. And that's not even true. I love writing. Do I? Or do I just love the idea of someone reading my words?

I'm a whore. Sometimes I'm a saint. Everything inbetween. Human. I'm human. It took me a while, but I got there.

This is nothing. Fill the space with words. Countdown.

Youu know, I fell in love with you? And with you, too. Love. It's tricky, isn't it?

I always come back to love. Like a dog to sick.

05/16 Direct Link
I would just like to apologise for all the enteries I have written thus far.

I am a whore? Dog to sick? A bi-polar tortoise? Where did all that come from?

My only excuse is that I'm in exam mode, which means my mind is stuffed with equationsn and specific words that will get you the marks and colours that make no sense in the real world. 

This leaves little room for other, more fun things. So this will be a terrible batch. 

'Your batches are always terrible.'

Shut up Benjamin, what do you know? 
05/17 Direct Link
Studying people is one of the most interesting things you can do.

If I could, I would build a giant city and observe people's interactions from above. Watch as they love and learn and cause pain. Finally understand why people do and say things, and extrapolate that back to myself.

Understanding the mind and how people work it and run it and allow it to control them. Define consciousness. Work out what a soul really is.

People. They're the key.

Of course, I can't do those things. I'll just have to stalk people to gather the information needed.
05/18 Direct Link

You really are beautiful. It's true.

Whenever I see you I think that to myself. Seeing you makes all those dark little gremlins that clamber around my shoulders and pull at my hair and chatter in my ears start screaming in pain and run away and finally, for the most wonderful of minutes, my mind is at peace.

You'll never know this. You'll just be there, and it will happen, and you will have no idea that you save me from willfully diving into the darkness and never returning.

Your beauty helps to make this poor life worth living.

05/19 Direct Link
'You ever think about life?'

'I try to avoid it.'

'That's fair enough. I can be tough.'

'Sometimes. But other times, life is lovely.'

'What tims is it now?'

'I would say an average time. A time where nothing new, exciting, funny or original is happening.'

'Isn't that bad?'

'Well, at the moment, it's also a time where there is neither pain, horror, dullness or depression.'

'So it's a nothing day.'

'A day for rest. To prepare yourself for the non-nothing day. The something days, if you will. The days when there really is something interesting to write about.'
05/20 Direct Link
I'm a gangly, scraggy man
with one scrappy, flappy mind
and my words come tumbling out
I wish that I really could just find

That one perfect moment
when these words will finally flow
the sentiment is perfect
and to your heart they will go.

They stutter like old tractors
belching smoke and choking life
they break down when I see your eyes
that pierce me like a knife.

If I could show you all my feelings
all these thoughts in my head
you would probably end up screaming
and wish I were dead.

I'm a gangly scraggy man
and I love you.

This scrappy, flappy mind
loves you.
05/21 Direct Link
Thoughts fly around this cracked skull like a cascade of fireworks and ping-pong balls.

Screams like it's stuck in too high a gear. I can feel it overheating, cooking itself. I can smell it, the roasting smoke pouring out of my nostrils.

Now it's started melting. Running out of my ears like blood after listening to loud music.

I wipe it away with my hands. See the pink and grey liquid, sticky on my fingers. Despite myself, I lick it off. It tastes of metal and ash and burnt toast.

The fireworks have exploded. The lights have gone out.
05/22 Direct Link
Dance mister puppet man dance all day because when you stop dancing well that will be the end of  you what point is there to a puppet that wont dance we all just want to see you dance of you dont we will be very disappointed because dancing is what you do best and without it you really are nothing just a strange man in a funny suit who wears make up and likes to hang out where kids can be found so really you have to keep on dancing if you ever want to be taken seriously again
05/23 Direct Link
It's a flood of summer. All of the sunshine and colour that had been locked away finally broke free and now, at this moment, summer is here.

The warmth gently suggests that maybe it is time to finally take my jacket off. That my arms have been starved of the sun.

The air smells of happiness. Which is nice. Happiness is one of my most favourite things ever invented.

Of course, I personally have lots of guilt attacking me. However, for the moment, I can ignore its bites and just remember that the sun is out. It'll be out tomorrow, too.
05/24 Direct Link

After we had finished talking, it suddenly dawned on me that, after a while, we would never do this again.

Not in that setting, in that context, with those thoughts and emotions flying around our heads.

It made me desperatly melancholoy. I really don't want to never do that again.

This is an end, just as I think I've finally managed to figure out everything. It's over too soon. Far too soon.

This world, this place, this time is enough. It's enough for me. I don't want any more. Just let me stay here, with you, forever and ever and...

05/25 Direct Link

Heavens, glare not so upon me.
Sun, please stop your beating and wind,
cease from clawing tears from my eyes
and hair from my skin.

The music of the birds is too loud, to crass
and umpleasant. Even the most gentle of refrains
seems like a roar of self-denail. I cannot stand to listen
to this anymore.

All this. Nature. This world. Pales and whines in its imperfectness, gnashes and wails at its failures.

Not even the lilly is as radiant as you.

These lines and this mind are too incomplete to
write you as you deserve to be written.

05/26 Direct Link

'You ok?'

'I'm completely fine. Why wouldn't I be?'

'I don't know. You just look a little...I don't know...strained.'

'I'm fine.'

'Are you sure?'

'Yes! Just...leave me alone! I'm fine. Of couse I'm fine. There is nothing at all that has happened at this moment to make me not fine.'

'Well...if you say so...'

'I mean I'm utterly comfortable with my life at the moment and how it is panning out. I don't feel sad anymore or strange or wish that I could never think again. I'm fine, thank you. Just fine. Perfectley, wonderfully fine.'

05/27 Direct Link
One day, my soul jumped out of my body and ran into the corner of the room. It then started to spit and growl at me.

It looked like a giant rat, with ears like a cartoon mouse and spikey fur. My soul was a dark red and brown. Some green stained the tail.

I had no idea what to do. I wanted my soul back, but I was afraid that if I approached it, it would attack me. I don't like being attacked.

My soul just stood their, back arched, screaming and hissing and gnashing its teeth at me.
05/28 Direct Link
I tried playing it some music, but it just covered its ears and wailed out of pitch and out of time.

Reading poetry failed to help. My soul just sniggered through every one.

Painting was unable to sooth its wrath. It tore up my picture and smashed my ink bottles.

In the end, I just opened a window. With a cry of triumph, my soul jumped out and ran into its freedom. I had never seen it look so happy.

One day soon, I hope my soul will come back to me. A happier, wiser and much nicer soul.
05/29 Direct Link
One day, I will set up a research facility in the middle of the ocean. It will be subject to neither government nor profitable company.

Scientists will be able to come and research whatever they like. The only condition is that it has to be interesting.

Knowledge for the fun of it. Discovery simply because you can, not because you have to. Freedom.

Of course, there will have to be a way to fund all of this. This means that there will have to be a hotel and holiday resort, where people can come and oggle at the scientists.
05/30 Direct Link
Please, please tell me the truth
It's not like I am some uncouth
Neanderthal who will spit it
Back in your face.

I'm tired of all these worn-out lies
They swarm all over by body like flies
I'm so tired of running in
This human race.

The economy has failed
But then again not
The eduaction system
Has gone to pot
But my school still manages
An outstanding label.

Coffee is bad
But is also good
And wine is bad
But also is good
It seems that every health tip
Is just a fable.

So please, please tell me the truth.
Yes please, just tell me the truth.
05/31 Direct Link
I was sitting down, reading a book, when my soul jumped through the open window. It ran across the floor and streaked into my lap where it curled itself into my knees and promptly fell asleep.

My soul had changed. Its fur was more silky, its teeth more refined and its general temprement more calm. I reached down and started to stroke it. My soul emitted a gentle hum, somewhere between a bee and a kazoo.

I never bothered to ask it where it had gone or what it had done. I was just happy to see it extraordinarily happy.