Alopecia 14:38

There are so many lights outside my window. The perspective is perfect, they look like luminous tram lines. I am pleased to have my curtains. In an ideal world, I would own curtain glasses. However beautiful they look, I like the perfect dark and silence. I need silence for sleep. My ex-girlfriend used to snore like anything. God, I could have hit her. (the acceptable face of domestic violence).

Holy fuck, was that a Christmas advert? Jesus Christ.

There is so much blood in my bathroom I would definitely get arrested if the Police decided to do a spot check. Actually, some of it is pomegranate juice and the odd bit is pomegranate shampoo. I was making a cocktail of shampoo, juice and blood. I call it Blood 2.0 with juice and shampoo. I cut myself shaving and went a bit dramatic with the clean up. Usually shaving cuts are like "yeah whatever, tissue paper will solve this." Not today! It was like like I left the blood-tap on. Everywhere, seriously.

Mentalism is hard, lets go shopping. 16:22

I predict that tomorrow there will be an earthquake in Chicago and that a 40 year old Jamaican woman will win $300,000,000 for some reason.

I devined this information just by making it up, which seemed as good a method as any. If it comes true, I expect to be hailed as a God.

Stay tuned!

Golden 19:23

"Silence is very imporant. The silence between the notes are as important as the notes themselves." - so said Mozart

Sometimes I think that maybe I'm the silence between the notes. Other times, I feel like I'm the noise.

I tried sensory deprevation last night. It involves blasting white noise into your ears and staring at blackness etc etc... I guess most people know what sensory deprevation is. I didn't expect to see what I saw.

I saw dolphins, then a couple crying and fucking at the same time, then I saw through the eyes of a girl jumping of a bridge.

That's almost as good as dreaming! Maybe I can record things like this in my dream journal instead of my dreams seeing as I can remember these. Remembering dreams is hard when all your really want to do is eat some Wheatabix. Except I go for the Sainsbury's own brand; Wheatbiscs.

Only suckers eat Wheatabix. Look at that title, it's even got an X in it to appeal to young people. It's got wheat in it to appeal to old people, and they carelessly glued these elements together. Wheatbiscs on the other hand are superior because I can afford them.

Next Day Air Machines 16:02

I wonder what it would be like to have a ridiculous amount of personalities. Like split personailty disorder but more like shredded or smashed. Broken, if you will.

You would just be this unpredictable, seemingly crazy dude.

And you would, at some point, love everything. Every view point from every perspective flashing in and out of your beliefs like a slide show. The first multipurpose human being, capable of almost any feat, but locked in a padded cell.

I wonder how many real geniuses are locked up. I wonder how many warnings against alien invasions we might one day wish we'd listen to. Maybe it is, as I remember one girl saying once, "all about orange. Everything in the world, it's all connected and all to do with orange." I guess she knows something I don't know, because I doesn't seem like its all to do with orange.

But I never went to university or anything.

Trading Lives With Batman 20:42

In a weird turn of events, Dick Grayson came to my door yesterday morning and strongly suggested that I take over the burden of being Batman for a whole month. Obviously, this was completely awkward because I'm trying to find a new job at the moment and I don't really have time, but the guy has SO much money, he pretty much bribed me into it.

Turns out though, Norwich is a pretty safe place to live. Compared to Gotham City.

I missed a couple of major things which I guess would be used against me if ever I get judged for my efforts. There was a drunken fight on one of the bridges over the Wensum and a guy drowned, but I didn't even know about it because how the fuck would I? Then some other man died because two drunk dudes beat the shit out of him. It's tragic, yes, but wearing this custume is reeaallly embarrassing and I don't really want to be seen in it.

I cleared up some litter though and drove around in my car (didn't use bat mobile because it's way too confusing and has flying capabilities which is something that I really don't want to have to learn) looking for people who were being criminals but nothing actually came up.

There was a fancy dress party and some guy was dressed as Heath Ledgers Joker which threw me at first because it was a convincing costume and I'm not really qualified to battle people like that.

Another complaint I have, and I don't mean to go on, but I didn't get a Robin. It's not that I needed one, but if anything did come up, I would have probably fucked it all up. Robin could have at least given me a few pointers, but I didn't get anything.

I'm telling you, Dick Grayson owes me big time. If he didn't want to be Batman he could have just hung himself.

Like Smoke, Girl 15:28

I remember the taste, hot my mouth, then you stick to my lungs.

I exhale, and you're gone.

This particular girl prefered the taste of kisses after smoking, like it was a flavour. The night I learnt that was the same night I learn that dying a girls hair is wayyy to stressful because no one will every do it just right. It was that night that I retired from the hair styling community. The nation mourned.

Later on the bed, I'll think about a lot of things. Some things will be for blogger, some for my stories. I don't know how I decide what goes on here, but usually it comes from tangents or analogies made in passing.

A thin mist kind of like smoke is rolling around my road. I can see because I'm blogging on the windowsill. It's all reminding me of smoke, which is memory, seeping for a glow or fading spark and sinking down into my lungs where it settles and makes me feel sick. I'm not a smoker, I can't handle the memories very well.

I should make a nicotine patch for the past. You can patch right over it and be an ignorant motherfucker!

I remeber how my old blog used to be funny. I best try harder because I miss all that.

Hamish: A Cautionary Tale 23:59

It's essentially a catalogue of vices. A modern day De Sade, instructing in the art of reduction.

We need vices, the first line of the story of my life would say, because we are all so very very lost. After that, I might use the analogy of floating adrift in a boat on a great sea, trying not to drown. In that case, making mistakes fucking up may well be drowning, but it may also mean throwing an anchor.

The captain, lost at sea, thows his anchor overboard and remains perfectly still.

And we all stay completely still. Then at the end of our lives, we smile, knowing that none of us have really moved at all. Y'all glued. There's only so far you can go before you admit that every road is outside of your head.

That didn't make sense. None of the above did. It's late. Hamish sleepy.

This post should have been titled: Too much flu medicine.

Wereboy and the Death Of Tomorrow 15:01

One day, that will be the title of my comic book.

It's about a werewolf, you see. Except he doesn't have any superpowers. In fact, he's not even a werewolf anymore and I think he's probably racist. Everyone loves a racist...

This hypothetical graphic orgasm is just one of many things that I intend to do, but out of all of them it will definitely be the most awesome. Racist werewolf!

There's something really juvenile about wanting to write comic books now that I'm, arguably, full grown. I'm supposed to stop wanting to be a rock star and have an amazing job like video game tester or comic book writer but really, the longer I go without these things, the more I want them. Time, I suppose, is slipping from the top chamber to the bottom... of the hour glass... the hour glass of life. Metaphore.

What needs to happen is that I go into a chrysalis and then come out the other end with totally badass drawing skills. The only other alternatives are that I draw it now with my completely inept drawing skills or I actually practise drawing my characters.

The latter option is preferable, but I know myself too well to put money on it.