Archive | February, 2009

Let there be love Part 2

25 Feb

Another part to the Let there be love series – Again, spelling mistakes and all in its former glory:

*Please note this file contains only fictional events and characters. Any relevance to a living/or dead person and any situation they may have/or will be involved in is purely coincidental*

This is what day dreaming does to you…… (Part 2)

Previously…… Mrs Bonar had a change of heart and became a rock star along with Mr Shipley, and Mr Lloyd. Together they formed “The Teachers” and started a revolution.

It had been a long day and Mr Hufford was just off to take his post 16 maths class.

“Why does it always rain on me” he thought while humming the Eastenders theme tune. It was not often he felt this happy, it most of been that nice Jehova’s witness lady he had invited in for a cup of tea last night.

****** Over in the science block *****

“Is It because I lied when I was 17…?” Wondered Mr Bellamy, as he wandered around school aimlessly hoping against all to catch a pupil roaming the corridors he heard a faint wisper from near reception…..Dum dum dum dum dum , dum dum, it went.

Picking up his pace he neared the source of disturbance and jumped around the corner.

“Aha” he shouted “Caught you out of class…” He drifted off with the realisation

“Mr Bellamy how may I help you at this late hour of the day?” He didn’t seem to pleased anymore.

“I er…well you see…it’s a bit like this you see….well..I…er”

“Spit it out man, we all have places to be”

“I heard a sort of humming sir and thought it might be a student out of class”

“No you fool it was me.” he definetly wern’t happy now. “Gosh can’t a tyrant get some peace round here”

He stormed of humming

“Somewhere over the rainbow”

“Way up high”

“Who said that”

“Who said that”

As our characters argued over who started it and who broke the toy train set they suddenly realised a horrible fact.

“Lets do it” they both agreed. Over in the canteen something strange was going on,

food was on the boil and one of the Dinner Ladies was dragging in another carcass to call the healthy option.

“what it came out the ground right”

As the steam rose all around them they felt perculiar….is it just me or can you see where this story is going.

Anyway as I was saying….

Steam rose around the Dinner ladies and without warning they burst into song “Why does it always rain on me?, even when the sun is shining, I can’t avoid the lightning”

*cue stage effects* and….In slid Mr Hufford on his knees closely followed by Mr Bellamy

“Night fever, Night fever” they screamed, while frantically trying to pull their disco skates on. Lights started flickering everywhere and on top of the table Mr Bellamy had found a turn table.

“Wicked!” he shouted as he began to scratch away

“we know how to do it” Chourused the Dinner Ladies as they stepped into line behind Mr Hufford.

“I’d like to dedicate this next song to Alex Towler who’s seen me throught all the hard times of my life, the only one that ever supported me, My manager.”

The Dinner Ladies feet began to tap. Slowly they turned their backs and with a flick of a wrist they changed..Mr Hufford had replaced his skates for a pair of converses, and his everyday shirt was now a brightly coloured mish-mash of crap, don’t even go into the parachute pants.

Chicka Chicka went Mr Bellamy’s turn table as he began to spin his tunes, cupping his hand over his mouth the beat was started.

“Yo” Shouted Hufford with sudden enfusiasmn, Windows shattered,

“Can’t touch this” He began,

Der der der dum went Mr Bellamy as the Dinner Ladies began to dance grabbing a chair each they moved into their favourite position, the beat went on and Hufford was in full stride rapping away like there’s no tommorow.

“A suped up homeboy from the Oaktown, and I’m known as such”

Hip-Hop had found its way into Huffords heart and nothing was getting it out of him. Not even the Jehova’s witness lady.

The school found it was now down 4 teachers and 1 headmaster. Something had to be done to stop this madness. Music was invading…………

Alex Towler

http://www.towler.tk

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An unpublished

24 Feb

So this post was written several days ago on my Iphone but it doesn’t seem to have published. I wanted to send out this spliced up message a combination of my own words and Eminems but it’s not really out their for everyone. Just a few, if it’s you I hope you read it.

So this is my goodbye I’m sending – I hope you hear it.
I can’t really say goodbye, so long. So instead self sabotage with hate and anger to mask the fear. It’s been a long time but these last few months it’s all piled up and I can’t deal with it anymore – it might only be a small thing but I don’t think we can be friends anymore – I’m leaving soon and don’t want to say goodbye because I love you and care for you – you were the best friend and will always be remembered as such. But I think your priorities and goals, direction and self have changed to much, so much so.  You don’t support me anymore – I don’t think you ever take my side – do you want me to be happy or is there some other agenda? I don’t know anymore but it’s too hard to figure out the uncertainty, the intrigue and the bloody politics of everything. It all feels so underhand and designed for your own purposes – these words really I don’t understand. Anyway, enough. Goodbye, sorry and good luck. With love x

Journal Part VII

20 Feb

May 29th,

Journal – It has been a few days since I have had a chance to write to you – again, events have progressed rapidly and not given me much chance to stop and think.

So Lucy came to the Hospital, one or two days ago – I can’t really tell I’m a bit foggy still. We spoke for so many hours, both trying to console each other – she seemed scared and upset. Whilst me, well I’m up and down at the moment but life seems to have taken a turn for the better and I can only hope it continues – I managed to convince Lucy that I couldn’t stay in the Hospital any longer. It was too dangerous.

I’ve decided to work with Lucy – our paths and goals seem to be so tightly entwined and so we came up with a plan. It was brilliant – It is brilliant, but I don’t know if its going to work long term.

We came to a few conclusions – First, the Parazelli were sending me a warning and we would be unwise to cross them, which is exactly what I plan to do. Secondly, it wasn’t going to be easy – But the professor I was to meet most likely worked at P&S.

We decided that I could safely stay in P&S guest house – this was two fold in its genius, except of course I would need to keep up the relationship with Lucy, not letting slip that were not actually related. I like this girl so that could end up being an issue, especially with the Matron of the College.

Once decided I had to get out of the hospital, turns out it’s easier said than done. The basics of it are as follows. The doctors didn’t want me to leave and after a mad argument about snake’s and venom? No idea what that was about – I lost my temper and punched the Doctor in the face.

I missed those adventures, I remember when I was young. Dancing and jumping between gardens and over hedges, running from neighbours who I had some how managed to annoy. They all called me a little tearaway. I didn’t care.

So here I am – Punched the doctor in the face. Watched as he pressed the button for security – venom and adrenalin pumping through my veins  time slowed just enough for me to catch out the corner of my eye every little detail. To my left the way Lucy’s face changed from shock to amusement and then the confusion as I grab her hand. To the right – the security guard running down the hallway, the glass double doors creaking ominously as he burst through them at speed.

So I’d grabbed Lucy’s hand and shouted to her “Run!” and there we were hand in hand sprinting down the hallway, laughing with joy jumping and dodging other patients and nurses until finally I reached the big main entrance and out into the sunny warm air.
I had forgotten after being in hospital for so long what it felt like – I couldn’t believe the burst it gave me, I hailed a cab and we were away.

We chatted long into the night, giggling and laughing as we got back to P&S and I was settled into the Guesthouse.

Today I spent some time in P&S library looking through old newspaper records – wondering if there was anything – any sign that the Parazelli would keep, something, anything, “The Links” – Uneventful day but hopefully tomorrow will be better. I must go Lucy has just knocked on the door and we have much to discuss.

R,

P.s – I long for her now more than ever…

Fat People and Train Seats

20 Feb

Now I don’t mean to be rude. But when I’m sitting on a train, reading my paper or my book – Maybe listening to my MP3 Player just minding my own business. So now anyone that travels on public transport knows that it’s difficult to get a seat at the best of times. So I love it when I actually find a seat and plot up, cosy my head in my hood and nap until I get home.

So, when a Fat person sits next to me I get really upset.

2 reasons really – the seats are small and hard to get. It’s for this reason that I hate it when a fat person literally wedge’s themselves between me and another person – practically forcing my off my seat and onto the floor. I mean come on – “Did you pay for two seats you fat bastard? What? No? – then move the fuck over or loose some weight!” “Stop killing your heart with grease and donuts!” “Stop growing so many folds of fat that you constantly sweat – so much so that you are soaked and lubed up enough to slide into a seat half your size without even a grunt.

I wouldn’t mind a fat git having two seats if they pay for them! – Here’s a novel idea – Ban fat people on trains, make them walk. They will lose the weight and then can come back on the trains.

Rant over

Blurred Thoughts

17 Feb

A little bit of mellow dramatic poetry

To go home and sit in an empty flat waiting to watch,
the world crumble at my feet.

Wanting nothing – not knowing why,
not even to eat, dream or sleep.

Insomnia eats away at my thoughts,
the sentence ends.

Looking for timezones,
when they wake – my MSN friends.

Internet and wordpress,
Facebook  just another dead end.

Still your reading this,
so leave me a comment and help me stop rhyming.

For there’s nothing worse…….

Than an unfinished poem.

Journal Part VI

16 Feb

May 26th,

Journal – I am sitting up waiting for Lucy. I want to talk to her. I’m going to find out what’s on her mind because I can’t do this alone. I’m going to go call her.

LATER

I tried calling Lucy but no answer, straight to voicemail. Is she avoiding me? has something bad happened? why is her phone off? I can’t believe this would happen from a girl who sat by my side watching me and waiting. A girl who hardly knows me. She wouldn’t be ignoring me.  Oh god!

LATER STILL

I can’t believe I was getting so paranoid earlier,  I think it’s these drugs, Lucy said she would visit again soon.

THAT EVENING

My mind is going in circles, I think something is seriously wrong – I can’t reach the panic button, my arms refuse to move, I am writing this at the tips of my fingers, hoping a nurse will come by soon. Help me! I need to hide you, the secrets in your pages are to grave.

May 27th

Lucy visited today, apparently I was found on my stomach half way out of the hall, muttering about conspiracies and acting hysterical – I lashed out at a nurse and they have moved me to a secure unit. Lucy found and brought my Journal to me and we sat and talked for a few hours. I trust her greatly, I need her now but I am scared. I think someone has got to me – these hallucinations are unnatural, like I am being drugged in my sleep. I need to get this story out, but who can I trust where can I go.

I don’t think I can deal with this pressure, Lucy has told me of her parents – a horrible coincidence that makes me fear for her life even more, but, maybe she can help me. Maybe we are stronger as a team, I’ve yet to decide. The doctors tell me I should sleep and I can see how bloodshot my eyes are, a little scrap of glass I found in my bed my only mirror.

R,

Just one Secret

16 Feb

It feels like it’s been a long while since this blog has contained anything personal. It’s all me, I agree to that point completely but this Blog is my sanctuary. I have opened it up to you all, mainly as an experiment, maybe a question. But it is still my sanctuary and I don’t like this fear that I’ll end up posting and writing for other people. If you read my posts thank you, if you comment I appreciate that and always try to respond but in my heart and mind this is still my escape. I know now that my family read this blog. At first I was surprised, confused and a bit wary about this but then I realised it was unimportant. Maybe it could be a good thing. Maybe that part of me that is reaching out in all directions is being heard. I wonder if when you read this you stop. You think to yourself that maybe we have more in common then I thought. Maybe you realise that your not alone and life could be worse. I think this almost every day to be honest. It’s like a stuck record sometimes – I will get down and sad – like everyone. But my way of dealing with it is, I can’t be sure but it feels different. I’ll let it get to me, because I can’t stop it. I’ll get angry, I’ll get upset, I’ll get embarrassed but by the next morning, or sometimes within hours I have forgotten the emotions that seemed so relevant and have found a new distraction. By letting these situations get to me I feel I encourage their natural progression – “if you can’t beat em join em”

If I’m feeling sad or lonely at night I get really bad insomnia, I can’t sleep and I find it difficult to switch off, much like now. So I read, I write and I watch mindless programs until I fall asleep. Being able to escape to another world and forget your troubles, forget the echoes of empty halls and hear only the voices inside your head. Those voices that are part of who you are, a conscience giving you hope and direction. Maybe a sense of belonging or direction. To judge and be judged and to make the choices that seem so difficult. I can’t sleep right now. My walls are bare, I have packed almost everything of importance and the time is coming. I can feel it.

I am scared of the changes I perceive and know are happening around me. Yet instead of hiding in a shell I reach out to the fear and accept it. Welcome the worry with open arms and call it adventure, call it a friend and an enemy, challenge it to beat me. I will never give in, I wish everyone had the same energy. Like a spinning top, round and round, constantly moving. The energy to say “Fck It” and to follow their dreams.

I know a lot of people worry about me when they read what I write – they think I am scared? alone? worried or maybe in trouble. Don’t, I am happy and I know what I want – this is what my soul looks like, twisted and confused but forever moving, my fingers typing, writing, expressing the thoughts that run through my head and change direction at the last minute. The ideas that flit into my brain for milliseconds, typed up and trapped. Pinned to the page like a butterfly. Frozen – a moment.

Words, to me. Are like pictures. They can express and convey a moment in time, a thought and an emotion – a combination that will never EVER happen again. Writing is an art – it doesn’t have to be fancy and it doesn’t have to make you smile, make you laugh or take you to another place. It just has to be.

Meaningless abuse of the power that you hold.

The impact of words is immeasurable, to some – you will smile. To others the same words make you cry, maybe just to stop and consider your own life? This is why you should never write for someone else, words are to powerful to be corrupted by greed and control, the pressure of your peers or your readers. They are a link to your soul and your being. If you let someone direct or control your soul then your life has no meaning. Your words are empty, the emotions mean nothing, just a shadow, an echo. In black on white. A shadow.