Wednesday, 27 January 2010

A story of a run away cloud.

..and when i said goodbye, they turned and looked straight in my eyes and blinked. The scene went black so i turned my back and walked as far away as the road would lead.
..and when i paused and thought on what i had just done i closed my eyes and said goodbyes that they would not return.
..and when i breathed, the relief that followed filled me with warmth i never believed would bless me, i fed on my content, and off i went.

..upon arriving in a place i cannot place, not much was there, 'twas pretty bare but it felt like home, why would i want souls that drowned me in sorrow?
..upon arriving i did not miss the silent hum of disapproval, the white soul that coo-ed in my ear, full of things that i never wanted to hear.
..upon arriving i wanted to leave, this place although desolate of the souls what not filling the hole, i am empty and this does not satisfy.

..i know not why i constantly cry into my claw hands, and scream into blackness for want of new lands, to explore and to roam and to forget so called home.
..i know not why i feel afraid to be like them so worker bee drone metronome lambs, i strive to soar up in clouds of grey smoke like a phoenix from the flames.
..i know not why i alter myself, deprogram all ive ever been taught, but i do know i like my being, i just dont like myself.
Why the fuck talk ot me if your not going to talk to me? What start something to end it? Why pretend to be something your not and pop my rare balloon of happiness? Why would you act like you liked me then act like you don't? Why make me make the effort twenty4 seven?
Why am i retarded? Why don't they like me? Why am i the last one left? Why do i always do this to myself? Why can't i do something right for a change? Why do i have problems? Why am i always the friend? Why don't they ever want more? Why am i always reading too far into things? Why do i always question everything?
Why am i here? What am i needed for but to show them where they are going wrong?
Why do i create these situations? Why doesn't it ever work?


Well howdy partners in crime! Thought i'd write a tad about life here, about the future. Recently i have been finding anything and everything really hard to get motivated for. All i want to do is stick on some music and dance, shake out the stress and forget all the worries. I crave each weekend to come around with plans to party and when there aren't any i get seriously depressed and sink back into my hole. My life right now all i want is to have fun, waste time sleeping and waste time getting drunk and crunk with who ever. I want the atmosphere, the sweat and the bodies packed beside me moving together to the rhythm. I want to feel each beat in my head and my heart and my body. I want to feel hands grasping me, my head whipping to the sides with my hands in the air. There's not enough time for me to waste my youth and when i say youth i think of fun and this is fun for me.
All i want to do is be young and swing my hips, drink cheap beer and live. Learn the troubles of waking up with a banging head, and waking up with a moose. I want to have regrets and look back on and think SHIT! Stupid i know but there are things i have to do!

Tuesday, 26 January 2010

Street lamps.

Blinking at me.
Shinning real bright into my eyes when i look up.
Lights along the motorway, equally spaced.
Mapping my way.
Beaming down on the hussle of beings.
Fake stars staring at me.
In the way.
Hiding the truth.
Fireflies darted amoungst trees.
Street lamps in the town.
Making me frown.

Monday, 25 January 2010

Who can i call in when I'm loosing my mind.
Becoming someone whilst leaving me behind.
Transforming, shape shifting from a world in black and white.
Opening my eyes for the first time to light.

And if you see me, call me back.
Hold on to my mind
Hold on to my being
Paint in my iris's with colour and life
To see not just trouble and strife
But smiles and hope and believe in the world.

Who can i call when I'm being pessimistic
the glass is still half empty when the glass is half full.
No matter what you say ill think it anyway.
And on the day i break this cocoon, I'll wonder if ...........


A fire! Burning slowly in the pit of my stomach, where flame-proof butterflies are swarming around, desperate to find an escape. The heat rises and burns red, branding my face with alarming emotion. That first firefly spark that sets all your senses alive, is the first step towards a numb death in your mind. All is lost! You cannot fight nature, this natural fire consumes your mind, body and soul with one slight change in the wind. Remembering the burnt leaves flying and twirling and dancing around your being, distorting your view and sense of direction but breathing in and out the smell of contentment. The rise and fall of their chest as you see them, and the butterflies desperation to get beside them too amazes you, it's too much for your circuit board. The current of electricity running through your veins isn't fast enough and you hear the explosions in your ears.

Calling help from all bloggers out there ...!!!

I'm awfully sorry to the few readers that check my blog out that i haven't been blogging recently. I have just had stacks of things piling on top of me and I've been pushed so far down that i want to stick my head in the ground and ignore it all, but of course I'm an adult now so i can't.

So basically i have to put a portfolio together of all my best shiz, and i'm calling all of you lovely bloggers to help me choose my best, or what in your opinion you call my best. Please would you leave a comment on the selected one or two you particularly like the most for any reason at all.

If you would be so kind to do so you will be forever deemed the awsome-est bunch of slinkster cool people i will never meet. (:

I hope you are all living happy and free. Casper. xoxo

Friday, 1 January 2010

My story.

I think its time i told you my story. I didn't know i had one until i read this book, and it helped me realise that i am who i am and that my life was set like this from the day i was born.
I am a naturalist, a boho chic, an emo, what ever you will label me as i am that. From the tender age of 2 it was clear to my parents that i was going to be a hand ful. I hated wearing clothes, i hated meat, i wouldnt wear shoes only flip flops.
I was born to lead a life of meaningless meandering, i cannot be trained, i can act, i can pretend to be someone, something i am not, but it is true to my soul that what i am is me.
Being born into a family where it is unheard of to be a pacifist, where being clean cut, tightlipped is a normality made my love of being unique and different more problematic. I am the black sheep, the oddball of the family.

It is well known that i am destined to be the vegetarian chic wearing organic clothes that is the last to leave the dancefloor, and the last to leave the bar that ends up marrying a guitarist from a local band. I am fed up with fighting the link that has a magnetic pull between myself and musicians. I am who i am. I will be who i will be.

I can not fight who i am, but i can fight those who try to change that.