The way I feel today
The way I feel today
He thinks he can convince me with words. Pulp and a velvet suit. There’s no part of my body that has not been used. I want to tramp Port Meadow in the sun, burn Austen in a field. I want to feel different. I want to drown. I want to think clearly about life – theory, discourse, Will, not an experience – you are a construct, we are all bourgeois now – still occupied, though you forget – without hating myself and everything I haven’t done, the animal I watched die on Wednesday, orange blossom, Idlewild, Japan. Ian Curtis in black and white, something the matter with his eyes. You didn’t know who he was. A hotel room, a knotted rope. Sing me a love song. I hear Lesley Ann Downey screaming at nights. Peat-stained plastic pearls. The nice guy in the band is always called Tim. I spat at the bouncer and he gave me a guitar. Sail to the moon. Don’t come too soon. W.A.S.T.E., the courier’s revenge. Write yourself out.
Disturbing the dust on a bowl of rose leaves
The way I feel today - 10 July 2004
Just seventeen - 17 March 2004
Roads to freedom - 25 February 2004
Confessions of a failed self-harmer - 25 February 2004
Manchester, united - 25 February 2004