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burnt out/still glowing
the stuffed bear whispered to me, "how can you ever be sure you're doing the right thing?" as I pulled the head off another doll, and tried to glue it back on again.
softer than always
harder than sometimes

it's not enough, just a touch...

I went to Woolwich today for the first time since a soldier was hacked to death there by two terrorists in the name of Allah. it’s not far from me, only over a few hills but it's still a world away.

the sea of flowers and hundreds of personal notes, especially from children were overwhelming. the little boy that left his toy soldier touched me deeply.
she doesn't know that loving you is the worst way to get to you.

took grandad for lunch today. his 92nd birthday. I don't plan to live that long, but if I do, I want a knickerbocker glory and somebody to talk to me like I'm not a kid.
found in a box at the back of the drawer
lost between the sheets to a titty-fuck whore
kept around a neck on a chain, forever
  • how do I get to the other side of the glass?
  • I want to be on that side with you
  • push me on the swings, you have the most dangerous eyes
    I felt neither down nor up,
    just a long slow numb,
    like a thought just forgotten,
    one you can't get back.

    the sky hangs heavy with regret,
    about to burst into tears.
    had to call 999 over the weekend
    the bottom dropped out of my world
    everything is starting to crawl
    back into focus now
    just got my ticket for the semi-final. this will be my view. I guess it'll do.

    I just got home from seeing MBV. I was front row, tiny German's to my left and geeks talking about Kev's pedal setup all night to my right. I'm slightly frozen, but still buzzing. the new and the old songs fit snug together. my favourite part of the night was seeing people who have never seen them live before get obliterated and look dumbstruck during You Made Me Realise's 20 minute jet engine onslaught.

    the biggest chocolate in the world.

    spent my birthday at Palace away.
    the tide, the wind
    pull you down, away
    perch on me awhile
    I am your buoy
    you are my gull

    all the bubbles disappeared, a bath together is a bath forever.
    my girl is 8
    and that's old enough to know
    better or worse or
    so I relax around her and
    hear various astounding things
    about sex
    life in general and life in particular;
    mostly it's very
    except I became a father when most men
    become grandfathers, I am a very late starter
    in everything,
    and I stretch on the grass and sand
    and she rips dandelions up
    and places them in my hair
    while I doze in the sea breeze.
    I awaken
    say, "what the hell?"
    and flowers fall over my eyes and my nose
    and over my
    I brush them away
    and she sits above

    - Charles Bukowski

    saw Cranes the other night in Shepherds Bush.

    on our way home the sky went all flambé.

    added a little lion, less lonely now.

    dying from the heat at Bleecker Street.

    I look at this on my wardrobe every day, to remind myself that if a girl asks to smell my penis, it’s time to zip up and run.

    look what my stubble does to her chin, sensitive bitch.

    ever since I saw the flm The Warriors as a kid, I wanted to go to Coney Island. I love how dilapidated it is. sitting on the sofa like seats, while riding the rickety 85 yr old Cyclone roller coaster, with Victoria screaming her head off beside me.

    I’m not sure if I was working on enough monitors today.

    we sat and watched a little girl dressed like an orphan boy play the violin, as a masked woman danced around her at sunset.

    with weeds of the sea that wrap round our knees, and a sun too hot to go down

    a long wet walk home.

    we walked from one side of the Charles River to the other, feet burning, that eerie buzz in the air of a coming storm. lightning is normally so elusive. it’s there and gone before you even point your camera to capture it, but I got it.

    look what we got from Fanuiel Hall!

    haven't got lost on the subway... yet!

    eating this fried dough thing on a windy day was interesting, the sugar went everywhere and my jeans and the backs of the two women sitting in front of us looked like a cokehead’s wet dream.

    Victoria and I on Swirl Rock, overlooking the home of the Boston Celtics.


    my mate Maegan is visiting London from Texas and I was showing her around, and she spots this market stall selling an English take on the tamale. she’s brave enough to try it and sweetly lied to the blokes face, saying the spicy dumpling thing was “just like mama make back home.”
    we spun endlessly
    the sky fell like confetti
    you came in my mouth

    I’ve been aching to wear my new shoes out, but it’s been tough, what with being in bed sick this past week and having to tip-toe between the rainstorms.

    music: arctic monkeys : r u mine?

    I'm thinking of you tonight and will be all tomorrow.
    the producer said I visualised his scrambled thoughts and put them into words in a structured way he didn't think possible. he was happy. he didn't offer many script changes, so onto the second draft now on my own.