2 more days. You can't yearn more for what you once had. Having gotten used to the extra £££ 'pocket money' I am considered broke after booking a holiday. Untimeley expenditure as I thought a deposit was all that was required. 11p to my name, oh £1.02 with the 91p left stagnant in my bank account. Left untouched it wont grow, but the struggle to withdraw it will not suffice. My addiction amounts to at the least £2.03 a day-mayfair-the cheapest shit. Still I can't afford, left to endure already 24 hours of restlessness because I haven't indulged in that precious nicotine. Nevertheless I feel I could quit, nicotine vanishes from the body after 3 days-72 hours. But instead I need only survive 48, till on that minute past midnight all 5 weeks of endurance, selling overpriced shoes to stingy, wealthy foreigners, commission based will amount to a sum only I can imagine. But I am left looking like a deranged, drugged-up teen, smoking already smoked cigarettes from my stale moroccon ashtray. How many times can you smoke the same fag? 3 by my counts. It's like playing the game where you take turns to smoke a cigarette untill the cherry drops out, that victim must then proceed to chew the butt- only all on your jacks! Maybe I could ask people on road? But the rate of failure is higher than success for many so why not wait? 'Low it. Instead of smoking I'm eating regularly by the damn hour. A plum, a banana, wheat crunchies WHATEVER!!!! Time moves on fast but too slow for me. If this is my life...then why must I watch the boring parts. Can't I just edit the bullshit and fastforward to the fun? Bound by fucking time rules, seconds and minutes. How long is 5 minutes anyway? Everyone has their own take. You know 'Oh I'll come by in 5'. Show up a half hour later! Never understood waiting, how can we arrange to meet if your 9 o' clock is not mine? If it were the same 9 o' clock then one of us would be lying to please the other. Pointless. I see how people change by the time, its meant literally, for those who have a routine. 9am- shower. 9.20am- breakfast. 9.30am- work. Missed my train. Fuck it.

I blazed punk for the first time in what feels like a year and since I've always been a lightweight (textbook red eye from half a toke!) the 6 odd pulls did me fucking well. I saw. The nervous, self conscious parallel of the sexy, confident original. His desperate vying for attention, a half-hearted nod and he'd have probably came. But no attention meant no visual satisfaction. In my proper mind it would've been disappointing however I wasn't and so I didn't ever want to see the face whose flesh was vastly disappearing and eyes rapidly hollowing to resemble a decomposing ape. Distorted not only visually but also emotionally, waves of anger fluctuacted to a needy physical release in a punch of the wall or sieze of 'friends' gut. This is what I couldn't ever see. If I hadn't got lean I'd never be so amazed at the power of the wacky backy. Body language was so blatant and almost slowed down so I wouldn't miss ANY action. I saw everything. And every motion had a meaning, and when analysing this upon leaving resulted in a whole negative. Nope. No I don't want to see you. No more, let the past lie.

Well I don't wanna be, because it's cruel. I'm so ignorant that I can only figure this out when I, me, am a victim of it. There was a point where teasing was portrayed as bad, you know all those primary school rules about bullying; NO name calling, NO pointing, NO hair pulling. They all emody that therm of teasing. But then it progressed to sexual teasing, within which the 'tease' is unconsciously maintaining a state of sexual arousal in the opposite sex. I feel it's a form of exhibitionism, that power to turn heads, raise heads and spit heads. Oblivious. Then there's the worst ever, to be the 'teased', a caress of the neck, a hand on the knee, kisses down your back have all proven to stimulate the secretion of that essential relaxing chemical oxytocin in women. I don't like having something that's broken, rubbish or damaged, but the worst is recieving something nice that I can't keep forever or untill it's novelty wears off. Which brings me back to being the victim, parading sacred goods that you can't have (in my case) or showing what will only stay fresh for that one night. I know from shifting to 'teased' from 'teaser' that it's an unconscious mental process but it's like a stripper; look, don't touch just enjoy, not, 'here's a taster (consciously given), you can have this, oh and sex of course! But please remember I like you tonight and in the morning however I wont call you, wont think of you, wont even acknowledge your existence till next time alie?' You have a nerve to say I tease YOU, what because your ID is unsatisfied, that immediate burning urge to release in your dick? Fuck That. The cycle is unbreakable, follow the track, choo choo, round and round again because it will keep happening until you fall off or take the diversion to where we are denied to ever see each other. Best for me, but my loss. For You? A loss you'll never know.

5

4

3

2

1

Happy New Year, yep the pure cheese has come to the surface after being contained for about a minute! It's only another year, what's gonna be so happy abput it? People say that whatever you have in your fridge on new years day, will never run out for the whole year, (better stock it with cigarettes then alie?). Bullshit, if it's in your fridge that is.

So, I'm emotionally dead yet again. Picture this, a starving fool staring gormlessly at a screen that just bombards one with images that aren't even registering because my eyes are caked with mascara gloops and eye bogies so high and defending that I can't see shit all.

Let's go out to loose each other, find everyone again, get pissed and legally have permission to join the rest of the leering goons on the street and then actually enter the new year crying your ducts out because you're so fucking drunk you think you missed it all! That was my new years, how was yours?

It wont be held up any longer, I want to leave but there is this lingering sense or responsibilty in my mind saying stay, you must stay.

Can't speak without argueing, can't argue without shouting so there's the door SLAM in my face. WTF? I have so many questions about my surroundings, dad, myself and the world out there and my answer is always WHY ARE YOU SO IGNORANT? How can I not be ignorant if when I do enquire about issues I get that thrown back in my face? OK I haven't only started asking bare questions nowadays but is there a fucking age limit at which you're curiosity just dies? I'm sick of the secrets, the lies, my 'attitude problem' and the uncontrollable actions. I want my mum, she was the glue, the stability of the household and maybe that's why she's gone... Did we drive her mad? Was her life dragged down to the point of unbearable? Why is there no laughter or happy children here? I bet she dreamed along with my dad that London was the place of opportunity, the place to settle down you know the 2.4 children, garden (alfalfa patches George!) and handsome husband. Everyone dreams but only those who pursue, get it. So did she just settle? I never just settle, but I'm seeing how much easier it is to settle for less. Guess you didn't know but me and PAPA G have had another arguement, a shrink would probably saw this as the way we subconsciously show our love, through the harsh words we exchange. Hmmmmm, maybe. Heeeeneways enough of the rambling, I'm gonna get out!!!!

Why am I such a dickhead? For real I'm becoming so introspective and am beginning to realise that I'm fucking up my life and I can't even see the exit...So much death, I can't even begin to handle, surrounding me like a shroud of fog, today I was informed about a random murder comitted by an old school friend of mine and the sickness that brimmed to my surface upon learning that it was recorded on a video mobile. Why? Yeah I get frequent urges to harm others, flashing images across the eyes to smash someone's head so far into a table that their features mould into one when released and I do actually feel I've done it. The adrenalin rush is one of the weaknesses of the human being, we crave it, it excites and stimulates, people experiment, search fot and die all on the vain quest for a heightened state of pleasure. To make yourself experience anything that would erase the lower feeling of everyday life. I'm rambling and simplifying but it's a way for me to organise and analyse my actual self, to believe that the mind controls the body, whether conscious or not it's always maintained. We live in a world of noise; mobile phones, radio constantly playing, loud banter and confrontations that we can never have the absolute silence, almost deafness within which we are able to appreciate the power of the mind. If you can accomodate the idea that it really is mind over matter then thats how I think you can 'get out' of everything you are 'in'. When you understand that every action and every uttered word affects the immediate environment and stimulates another's mind then I feel you can succeed. I want this more then anything, this 'ability' or awareness. Reflection of days gone by lead me to follow this train of thought and leaves me feeling mad. I wonder if other beings think like this, have ideas so complex that it swells the brain to the point of self destruction. Striving to understand and organise thoughts, the fight and the consequence are all too much so I resort to engaging in frivolous 'party game' playing.

By the way missing my dad, who I love to pieces from the bottom of my heart and hoping he has a safe flight. (Bare soppiness, but true.)