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Walk through his own boulevard... Welcome to Matt's Blog |
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I know I stole the title from a song by Green Day but only because this covers most of my past and well how I feel now and I guess I'll look into the future too because this is where all my ramblings are going to be held. All the things that go through my mind, so sometimes it'll be completely random and you probably won't have a clue what I'm talking about but other times you will understand. Pretty please don't judge what you read here because this isn't just a story this is life for some of us, I'd appreciate it if you respected that... Oh yeah if you tend to be a bit more fluffy then I would strongly advise you not to walk down this road, this is a story that happened... so there is nothing to blunt the truth. (For Staryl : omae wa mada hanatarekozai (jks)) |
| In my earliest memory I am sitting in the small space between the sofa and the wall, holding my sister's hand as she cries into her knees. One arm is about her three year old shoulders, my five year old fingers rubbing her arm as comfortingly as I can. She has a couple of dark bruises scratching her perfect pale skin and I know I have nothing better. We are crying in our safest space. As time has gone on it's strange to think that now I am the one who is crying, with her fourteen year old arm about my sixteen year old shoulders as she holds my hand. As I start the dainty dance of the dark flight down. She named out life the dark flight down after a song in a book... Seems quite apt now... As I comtemplate the final show down, the seventh step, the last dance. |
"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Ever had that thrown at you? Maybe accompanied by a fist or a glare? Ever been pushed back against the wall with your fears running high? Ever been told that doing something perfectly normal is wrong, like brushing your teeth? Ever said sorry for it? I said sorry. I meant it... I really did.... But I guess that's not good enough sometimes... |
| He looked up into the photo of what seemed a thousand years ago. Deep blue sapphire eyes stared back at him, a strand of shining raven hair falling into them. Yes, he was beautiful, had the face of an angel, the eyes of a saint. But that beauty was diminished now, darkened, by the thinness and the paleness of his face, by the dark shadows under his dulled eyes. In the photo right beside it, a different creature staring back. But that was of course his angel, the one person he cared as much about as his sister... He leaned against the wall. He wanted desperately to go to bed, to curl up under his thin blanket, even if it meant facing the nightmares now, even if it meant waking up in a cold sweat. But first there was the dinner, the apartment to clean, tomorrow’s meals to prepare, the pile of homework on his desk. And his Father’s wrath. He shivered. His body ached still from the night before; it hadn’t had a chance to heal. It never did. It was like his angel... Never giving anyone else a chance... Matt Dragoon Master   |
Blasting furnaces spout fumes into a stagnant air about me. People look around and yet they do not see me. I cry and yet they come back and torment me. I die and yet they won't think to find me. Grating wheels turning rubbish onto craters on the road before me. People look at me but they don't really see me. If I lie they can't tell becasue they don't want to know me. I die and yet they won't admit to know me. Lack of fire. Lack of sparks. Falling apart. |
I suppose I'm looking back on this. Because right now it's what I need and if I can't do it then I need to write about it... I started cutting myself by accident. I was cutting carrots and the knife slit my palm open. I had been upset, but that crimson that slid from my hand shocked me enough to tickle my senses. It didn't hurt me. It felt okay... It felt good... So I picked up that knife and I pulled it across my forearm. Where I had heard people had done it before... I heard it was safe... But that was just after a usual day. As things became worse. I became addicted to that relief that came with the free flow of blood. It's something I don't think I'll ever recover from... So when I was... When Loz did his thing to me.... I sank so low cut more than I ever had before... Ripped open both arms. Slashed at my legs. I was filthy and I had to be punished. So I did it myself... Until my little sister saved me... I owe her so much but I wish that it wasn't like this... That picking up the blade in sink, with three drops of water on, black handle pointing towards me... That usuing it to free me alittle more would not end in her tears and my guilty peace. I won't do it. That's the only rule now. And I suppose that's how it's going to have to stay... |
| »¿ さあ、もしこれはジョークなら、どっかいってくれ？瑛莉たちから送ったなあ （＝＿＝”）全部知ってるぞ、 もしオマエはオãƒと話したいなら, MSNでADDしてよ、 お前が知らないからじゃん、ファッã‚ングhaileybury高æ ¡のå¦生なあぁ～ このメールは使っていないから、eメールを送ることをやめろっ！ 沢村湧輔 |
| Yeah so I'm in a fucking pissed off mood. Yeah yeah, whatever. ARGH! I do the littlest thing wrong and I'm being shoved in DEpart - fucking- mental detention! So I guess this starts with my dad but ends with my oh - so fucking shit chemistry teacher! 3rd person in one day that gives ME detention! Okay so I'd better cool down... But I just don't get what I've done to piss him off... But then again I kinda get it... I came into school in a bad mood, thanks to mon pere, then I end up drawing... cos that's what I do when I'm stressed. And he caught me drawing... and when he told me to put it away I was listenging to music on my headphones... So really thinking it through I WAS in the wrong but I really don't want to accept it because everyone else w as being worse... for crying out loud I believe it was not me who threw things at the man... Honestly... Okay so I'll chill now... It's just another day... |
Feeling musical, gigs are lined up for the band, one sell out of four, not bad for a group such as ours... Our latest song though, a direct link to myself.... ***************** You were me. And I was you. I should have known how you felt. But I didn't, 'Cos you had taken me over. Don't try to run, I'll chase you harder, I won't lose you this time. You stole me, I became you. I was drowning beside you. Confusion? drop the veil on my eyes. Don't try to run, I'll chase you harder. I won't lose you this time. You hurt me. You were in me. I was choking, my hands on my neck. You were me. Because you have taken me over. You can run but no matter. I can follow I have and I will. Love was us drowning. Side by Side. The point of death's embrace. **************** |
I am myself. I tell myself that everyday. But the other day I was told that if I changed everything that was me, I would have the material to be one of the most popular guys in school. So I'd have to giv up playing my electric and take up something like the Clarinet, ditch my bracelets and earings and let my clothes become an every day blandness usually consisting of Gap and H&M... My music, the one thing I love more than anything would have to be ditched and the headphones of bleeping R&B would take over, Rap and Pop lining my ears. At the time I sneered and shrugged it off but looking back on it. I know it would be impossible to change me inside and I know I would be even more miserable. But it ould take the hit off my back and change my very existance. I couldn't do it. I don't want to try. But for some strange reason it's nice to know that the choice is there. |
| Low as a worm digging into the earth. Just longing once again to return to old habits. Sometimes I want moer than anything to pick up that silver once more and turn it crimson but I know I can't becasue if I do I'll be letting Harri down again... And I really don't want to do that... I don't exactly know if I want to... But I'm wondering if death, though the cowards way, would be more welcoming than this hell that I'm living. Wondering all the time wether it would be better.... A gun? That's too over down though, isn't it? It's kind of corny that way... Over dosing would make me look like some kind of druggie and that is one thing I'm not... Jumping off a bridge? A cliff? That simply w0uoldn't be good enough, it would be to messy and public... So what's left? A knife through the heart would be dramatic but... Every time that I think of doing it... I fail... Dismally... |
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