Galahad

A collection of my writing from the past few years. This blog is primarily writing that you may have found on my other blog: http://broodywriter.tumblr.com/

[ill-write-your-wrongs]

The Serenity Urn

When the lamp oil burns out And the veins go thirsty What glimmer remains Of who I used to be? Will I shine like a diamond And rise higher and higher, While I lay dormant in slumber In a quiet plot, in a mire? The ink on my skin will fade to a point get chewed by maggots or sliced by a knife. The scars on my heart and brain and arms studied while I fly in the endless calm. If I were to ascend - all I knew and rejected- my soul will be saved as my body lays cold, dissected. Memories flash and flood as regrets attempt to drown but the love of what once was remains as strong as when found. It’s alright, you’ll say out loud as the levees hold tears at bay. The odds against are plenty stacked curses to the birthday wish to stay. The boat departs in less than an hour and business is in check that final walk provokes joy and pain as you climb aboard the deck. The vessel holds no life vests but there’s a fire raging below the seat reclines into a bed as the minions begin to row row row the boat gently downstream the flames burn burn burn away disease and pain and woe while those on shore collect the cold and haunted urn.

[tai-korczak]

23 Emotions people feel, but can’t explain

Sonder: The realization that each passerby has a life as vivid and complex as your own.

Opia: The ambiguous intensity of Looking someone in the eye, which can feel simultaneously invasive and vulnerable.

Monachopsis: The subtle but persistent feeling of being out of place.

Énouement: The bittersweetness of having arrived in the future, seeing how things turn out, but not being able to tell your past self.

Vellichor: The strange wistfulness of used bookshops.

Rubatosis: The unsettling awareness of your own heartbeat.

Kenopsia: The eerie, forlorn atmosphere of a place that is usually bustling with people but is now abandoned and quiet.

Mauerbauertraurigkeit: The inexplicable urge to push people away, even close friends who you really like.

Jouska: A hypothetical conversation that you compulsively play out in your head.

Chrysalism: The amniotic tranquility of being indoors during a thunderstorm.

Vemödalen: The frustration of photographic something amazing when thousands of identical photos already exist.

Anecdoche: A conversation in which everyone is talking, but nobody is listening

Ellipsism: A sadness that you’ll never be able to know how history will turn out.

Kuebiko: A state of exhaustion inspired by acts of senseless violence.

Lachesism: The desire to be struck by disaster – to survive a plane crash, or to lose everything in a fire.

Exulansis: The tendency to give up trying to talk about an experience because people are unable to relate to it.

Adronitis: Frustration with how long it takes to get to know someone.

Rückkehrunruhe: The feeling of returning home after an immersive trip only to find it fading rapidly from your awareness.

Nodus Tollens: The realization that the plot of your life doesn’t make sense to you anymore.

Onism: The frustration of being stuck in just one body, that inhabits only one place at a time.

Liberosis: The desire to care less about things.

Altschmerz: Weariness with the same old issues that you’ve always had – the same boring flaws and anxieties that you’ve been gnawing on for years.

Occhiolism: The awareness of the smallness of your perspective.

[mcgeesta]

These.

[ill-write-your-wrongs]

With Wild Hearts, Blue Jeans and White T-Shirts

I'll love you forever, if I ever love at all.

[barkjunhee]

Russell proving that British Accents aren’t sexy

[ill-write-your-wrongs]

lifeoflesley we saw this!

[ill-write-your-wrongs]

Barbed

Follow me round Find your way You've lost me again Too late to begin again. You found me before Or was I wrong? You looked rather tired All along all my barbed wire. If you stop for a moment You will find yourself tangled Though not quite as deep The cuts sting underneath.

[acherontias]

I can feel the wheel, but I can’t steer When my thoughts become my biggest fear

Alice in Chains - Sickman (via acherontias)

[ill-write-your-wrongs]

A Matter of Time

What I'm ready to come home to, I do not know. More confusion? Heartbreak? A lost friend? I want this sorted out. My mind has been playing tricks on me way too much and I am done with it. It's even made me paranoid, thinking that there's somebody else. Or maybe I'm right, maybe that was the trick. She's different now because of what happened. It's my fault. All of it. Even going back to 2 or 3 years ago. It's all me. She would probably never admit it or say it, but It's my fault things are different and it's my fault my best friend is slipping away. If I'm not careful, it won't be long before she meets somebody else. She don't believe she can but either she will fall for someone as fast as she did with me, or someone will meet her and think she's awesome. I know She's getting tired of my bullshit, flippant brain. Either way, my mind is playing havoc with me. Once I understand how my mind works and get it sorted, I can rebuild.

[ill-write-your-wrongs]

Quadrophenia

I’m pretty sure I have some kind of multiple personality disorder. No matter how hard I try to make sensible decisions,I keep thinking I’m wrong, then right, then I question what I’ve done, then comes panic, anger, regret, guilt, all in a viscous circle. Its eating me up.

I had a nightmare I couldn’t wake from last night. It was something I had experienced in my waking life but ten times worse. I asked why they were doing it and with teary eyes, they said, “I don’t know”. But I knew why in the nightmare and I know now I’m awake: its all because of me.

I caused the hurt when I didn’t mean to. Unfortunately, I was born with little patience and understanding and a voice I like to call ‘Resting Bitch Voice’. Add all that together, and you have an individual with a heart of gold being chipped away and a head that’s all fire and water fighting for control.

I just want simple thoughts and a simple life but apparently that’s too much to ask for. I’m sorry.

[notawolforalamb]

Sounds more like borderline personality disorder than anything else, or maybe just bad anxiety/depression.

[ill-write-your-wrongs]

Either and/or both sound about right :S

[notawolforalamb]

Just as an FYI don’t casually use the term multiple personality disorder- it’s an outdated term for dissociative identity disorder, which is a trauma disorder marked by severe dissociative symptoms including amnesia and at least two separate alters. It’s caused by severe and repeated trauma (generally physical and/or sexual abuse under the age of 10), and the brain splits to help a child’s mind deal with what they can’t comprehend. It’s not a term to use loosely.

[ill-write-your-wrongs]

Sorry I got that wrong. It's been a while since I looked at a psychology text book. Thanks for the heads up

[ill-write-your-wrongs]

Quadrophenia

I’m pretty sure I have some kind of multiple personality disorder. No matter how hard I try to make sensible decisions,I keep thinking I’m wrong, then right, then I question what I’ve done, then comes panic, anger, regret, guilt, all in a viscous circle. Its eating me up.

I had a nightmare I couldn’t wake from last night. It was something I had experienced in my waking life but ten times worse. I asked why they were doing it and with teary eyes, they said, “I don’t know”. But I knew why in the nightmare and I know now I’m awake: its all because of me.

I caused the hurt when I didn’t mean to. Unfortunately, I was born with little patience and understanding and a voice I like to call ‘Resting Bitch Voice’. Add all that together, and you have an individual with a heart of gold being chipped away and a head that’s all fire and water fighting for control.

I just want simple thoughts and a simple life but apparently that’s too much to ask for. I’m sorry.

[notawolforalamb]

Sounds more like borderline personality disorder than anything else, or maybe just bad anxiety/depression.

[ill-write-your-wrongs]

Either and/or both sound about right :S

[ill-write-your-wrongs]

Quadrophenia

I'm pretty sure I have some kind of multiple personality disorder. No matter how hard I try to make sensible decisions,I keep thinking I'm wrong, then right, then I question what I've done, then comes panic, anger, regret, guilt, all in a viscous circle. Its eating me up. I had a nightmare I couldn't wake from last night. It was something I had experienced in my waking life but ten times worse. I asked why they were doing it and with teary eyes, they said, "I don't know". But I knew why in the nightmare and I know now I'm awake: its all because of me. I caused the hurt when I didn't mean to. Unfortunately, I was born with little patience and understanding and a voice I like to call 'Resting Bitch Voice'. Add all that together, and you have an individual with a heart of gold being chipped away and a head that's all fire and water fighting for control. I just want simple thoughts and a simple life but apparently that's too much to ask for. I'm sorry.

[darkeulogy]

I have been guilty of kicking myself in the teeth. I will speak no more of my feeling beneath.

Down in a Hole, Alice in Chains (via darkeulogy)

[lifeistooshortforspacebars]

Down in a hole and I don’t know if I can be saved See my heart, I decorate it like a grave You don’t understand who they Thought I was supposed to be Look at me now I’m a man who won’t let himself be

[wee-chase-misprinted-lies]

Alice in Chains - Would ? 

Unplugged 1996 MTV 

Layne Staley R.I.P 1967-2002

[ill-write-your-wrongs]

Down In A Hole

I want to ask what’s plaguing you But I think I know the answer. I want to ask if you’re fine But is it too soon? The right answer is never painless.

[ill-write-your-wrongs]

The Nothingman

Be wary of the Heartbreak Kid Clad in black with a caustic heart watch him stroll watch him smile after the trouble he ignites.

Here comes Nothingman cloaked in black carrying a lead heart it slowly beats as he trudges through his day after doing what he thought was right.

Be wary of the Heartbreak Kid and his liar’s grin Not a care to give He never did Now his life is gilded gold. 

My name is Nothingman. Always something Tugging at the strings in my head Always a care pulsing  Through my bare heart.  Not the man you thought you knew You hoped too much for something else More Or less. My mutant brain can only cope with so little While my chest takes on the excess strain. I am quieter than you know You are braver than you think In the end you’ll survive the pain And I’ll be left to rust.

[ill-write-your-wrongs]

Indiana Jones and the Lost Writer

I was writing earlier (Yes, I’m writing again, try not to faint) and I had a sinking feeling in my stomach. And don’t ask how and why I thought of this because I don’t even know, and I thought the damn thought in the first place.

When I was a kid, I used to love knowledge. Learning about anything I’d never heard about was amazing to me. My favourite subject was Egyptology. I was only 8 or 9 years old when I began reading about it. The mummification process was the most fascinating aspect... but gross. But it intrigued me because the world did not seem like the place this would happen. I didn’t even know where a process like mummification would even exist unless it was a horror film. But the world changed so much.

Nowadays, I’d rather do anything but learn.

It’s a shame, I know. I still read (thank god) but I feel like I don’t have the time to learn new shit when I haven’t even got a job using the shit I learnt at University.

I could’ve been Indiana Jones right now, being cooly smug when somebody asks what I do for a living. i would’ve just looked them in the eye...

And said “I’m an archaeologist.”

Oh well. If I focus enough to write a novel I could just be like, “Oh, um, yeah, I’m a writer...

P.S: the title of this post would’ve made a better movie than Kingdom of the Crystal Skull. Just saying. You know it to be true.

[ill-write-your-wrongs]

Old Friends

Winter up in Cambridge town rockin’ up with just a frown The girl back home done her worst And left him hollow, numb and cursed. All he wanted was cigarettes sitting moody with the usual dregs. It was on that night he met a girl She said “Boy, I’ll make you mine” He laughed it off as a drunken gamble He said “it won’t work, I’m just not fine”.

Days and weeks and months went past all the while they’d meet and drink but of course it happened so fast He fell in love in a blink. He spent so long saying it would not be true but it was he who first said “I love you” As with all good things now gone there came a time when it had to end. For a year to come he’d fight his brain and be haunted by his choices.

And now a best friend is gone...

I don’t know how to end this. Not all poems have an end. This is just going to have to be unfinished.  I am not happy. I haven’t been for a while. And I care. Still. I can fade away if you want. Maybe for a while.

F U C K