The Reality

And there it is, the glaring cliff of realisation threateningly looking up into your cold dead eyes

A morbidly experienced activity of counting those who you trust draws on a grimly found zero, old friends drifted into the void of time as close family are there but ever drawn into their own increasingly busy lives, then you; the keeper of secrets, betrayer of self and ultimately in that damning realm of depressive pain; the only one walking by your side

A massed horde of faces crowding you every day only sees the illusive front stonily protecting whatever it is you have become, their idea of your reality pathetically just a myriad of features you clinically cut into shapes and appropriate size to appease their simple preconceptions enforced over time

Now secured in the prison safe facility that is the toxic refuge you bitterly call home, a sole chair facing the barred windows and a single glass cast idle in the sink, now swigging straight from the bottle labelled life with not so much as an attempt at feigning concern you see the only two options which cursedly remain; which side of the head to rest the barrel of the gun and when to shoot

The ghostly whisper of a thought hanging in the gun smoke; will they see the next fatal events as a mercy killing or self-inflicted wounds, will anyone care!

Dating Profiles and how NOT to write them!

Going by the sheer lack of positive responses over months/years/adult life from any form of female life it would appear I am more undesirable than an undead, hunch backed and openly canibal axe murderer at a wedding, who just knocked over the cake and spilt red wine on the bride’s dress to boot!

So I’m going to write my shopping list here and accept the fact that it’ll be diner for one until my mortal form expires, and should that axe murdering canibal want to invite me to his wedding as I suspect he will have more success than me; then I’ll add ‘human seasoning’ to my list, so at least then I can be part of his wedding diner and feel useful!!

Toilet paper
Kitchen towel
Milk – 2x 1pt green
Fresh pasta
Pasta sauce
Chewy bars/breakfast bars
Human seasoning
Olive spread
Salami Slices

PS; If you think I’ve left anything off my list feel free to let me know

Feb 14th


The sight of…

Weakened by news from all corners that creates painful echoes of the lacking happiness and hollow pits in your own life where love should be

An emotional fugitive slips free of logic’s chains in an instant of weakening frivolity

A glitch occurs as you threaten to approach her and offer the most meagre of words

Rejection from the last time you asked purposely rejected so to propel an illusion it is not the screamingly bad idea you know it to be

She fades into background as you pause and leaves the space empty of wanted eyes as now you wander if she glimpsed the fire in your eyes

Logic’s hounds mercilessly drag bloodied emotion back into its cursed cage as free of poison temptation you accept the futility of finding love

The rarest of moments gone again in the decimal hell of mathematical impossibility that you will have such opportunity again

The moment is merely another ghost now in a graveyard of failed pleads to put misery’s heartbreak to rest in one of the many graves you only hope to fill

Ghosts of when you thought you might recover the status of ‘human’ and be happy again

Fire leaving your eyes as again ice consumes the fledgling hope born of a glitch in the system that forces mercenary rules upon the emotionless landscape of your mind

The system of survival that only ever accepts death as a reality in life’s bleak nothingness

Another Feb 14th passes without note

An Observation

                      “Maybe Valentines was created by all the happy horde who couldn’t stomach the sight of bleak nothing for four darkly lit weeks, those accustomed to death without dying content to bask in cold sunshine and relish the lack of pretence this dead month exposes with empty vistas of frozen fields and bare trees”

Happy Penguin Day

This 14th Feb I will be signing off the morbidly relished affair of guiltily given kinky sex by wives who want to impress the men in their life, bank busting rose collections and three month ago booked diner reservations for the men trying to show their wives that they still love them enough to destroy their credit ratings

Signing it off with a classic Penguin Day celebration, enjoying a night in and admiring the view of my kingdom that I have hard earned, free of the evil shackles of social demands that by this age I be married, with kids and a rubbish credit rating!

Penguin Day you ask?

Well in the artic a host of civilised penguins will be admiring the view of the frozen tundra, every beauty soaked vista view complimented by the clink of martini glasses stylishly branded as they mark the occasion without messily demanded emotional bullshit

Whether in the company of well earned comrades or in the quiet blanket of solitary existence, they will be marking the occasion in style and so will I

So Happy Penguin Day all!

Penguin Day 2

The View from the Shadows

It’s when happiness hurts you more than despair
That you have fallen into the shadows of where the world rejoices
And are beyond the reach of those who live in the light of happiness
Becoming alien to even those you once called friend
The biggest disappointment felt when lost in that black ocean…
…that death has yet to find you and it hurts more to live than to accept death

Best potential by the means of ill worth

All that makes me perfect for the adaptation to any crisis

The furthering of kindness and will to make right

Such calm when looking into the face of utmost chaos

Is born of all I resent, hate and that has only one goal…

….my destruction by the fanned flames of who I am;

The best of both sides from the dealings between hell and heaven

And the destroyer of my oh so fragile life

For to possess two sides of perfection

Only works if the keys to their potential are ready to open the lock

And let me be free of fear, hatred and the want to feel worth

Dark Ramblings

A demon’s own hand silences its own torture

The reach of chaos from where best intentions turned hope to soured pain

Screams never hold volume when only the one in pain hears their own cries

Oceans of ash to stamp into history all the bridges burnt in quest for companies hand

A demon’s blood as red as a mortal’s own life giving liquid

Dust and poison in viens carry forth the continuation of dismay as no knife can pierce the skin of stone bound to sin

When all the above begin to burn words uttered by crowds of tainted spirits into the very air you breathe out

And all the words waiting to be cast as judgement below scorn with venom a name as simple as the one I own

No matter the will to carry torches of honesty and better cause if only the mob’s quiet stares ever want your presence

So a demon’s own hand once more is required to mark the flesh to which it is attached

And pain forever more falls silent to the lies of illusion you show the world

Farewell humanity

You never did fit in me and all my own hand will end

Endeavour to find a vessel worthy as mine decays from within

The idiots guide to avoiding death at the hands of a depressive

Never sell a positive you can’t guarantee, never reassure someone when there is no hope to repair a situation

Idiot: It’ll get better, you’ll meet someone one day

Depressive: I’ve been single for double digit years and that’s the third person to reject me this month

Idiot: Plenty more fish in the sea

Depressive: I’m going to die alone

Idiot: Never give up hope, there’s someone for everyone

Depressive: (lifting heavy object)

Idiot: (no longer conscience and now bleeding from a head wound)

Selling false hope to a depressive is the equivalent of telling a terminally ill patient they will have a long and healthy life, que the lack of a positive response and some heavy sighs from the nearest intelligent person!

Don’t offer pointless and useless help, advise or assistances

Idiot: Here; have this cuddle, and you know you can tell me anything

Depressive: Don’t touch me, or I’ll hurt you

Idiot: Don’t be like that, I am here to help you and listen

Depressive: I don’t want to talk to you, go away

Idiot: I want to help you with my love and caring attitude

Depressive: Ok; so I offended a co-worker because they were a whiny bitch, lost my job and the boss told me I was ‘too morbid’ and should ‘care more about others’ like the person who couldn’t take a little joke about suicide that wasn’t even that bad and just because I was holding a knife to my wrist I am a ‘risk to the business’….. (etc etc)

Idiot: (Endless screaming as the mental health nurse sedates them)

Pointless and useless help is not useful, blindly damning and is it bound to cause aggravation and stress; yes!

The new definition of pain you feel as either 1; they take you up on your offer but you are wholly not prepared for the fire storm of crazy, or 2; they are using you as an emotional punching bag to release all that pent up crazy

So ask yourself if you really thought it was a good idea, as the mental health nurses reassure you that you might recover the ability to sleep without nightmares one day

Don’t mollycoddle

Depressive: I don’t need your sympathy

Idiot: You going to be ok, do you feel ok

Depressive: Do you have eyes, I just showed you where I was cutting myself

Idiot: I think you need a hug, lets have a hug and make it all feel better

Depressive: If you do I’ll…

Idiot: You really need a hug don’t you, tell me what’s wrong and get over here

Depressive: No, but you are going to need a medic

Idiot: (flying across the room as a fist hits their face)

Depressive: Well that actually helped

Idiot: Why are there two of you, I can’t hug two of you and the cartoon monkey is telling me…


In the art of dealing with depression you don’t crowd, placate or offer hollow sympathy (unless the last time a depressive punched you it really did damage!) but accept that distance is the best part of wisdom

A beverage, some space and distracting humour are by far wiser strategies