im the luckiest guy

i just thought id write something here hadnt even logged in in more than i remember i dont really use the internet anymore im just here reenrolling in uni ive got that too familiar feeling of wasting my life away on shitty websites a vague nostalgia looking at previous posts and old photos trapped in this glowing white box and the stupid thing is ( Read more... )

waiting for my disc to burn ( Read more... )

I was sixteen and about 3 or 4 weeks into one of my moods. I would spend most of my time sitting in my loft bed looking out the window at the big blue-gum that hangs over our house. Occasionally I picked up the Aldous Huxley book we had to read for school, but I never knew what the story was. Everything passed through my mind in this timeless non- ( Read more... )

i always used to listen to too much bauhaus and then start dressing all in black ( Read more... )

There was not a day that the memory of the event did not confront me, surprise me. One day I made it through to 7pm before it happened.. hit me so hard I sat down ( Read more... )

I’m a no good writer because every time I attempt fiction, within a week of writing I have become my protagonist and again I am just writing about myself so I have given up and now only write autobiography or about my inner conflict badly disguised as tragedies and romances. I guess I try write all my characters a lot more valley girl than I am but ( Read more... )

"You may be better suited to being an artist rather than a graphic designer ( Read more... )

"Looking closer, it is revealed that the metallic sounds coming from my jeans pocket are in fact bottle tops instead of the spare change I had imagined. The girl looks for a second at the pile on the counter, and then takes the skim cappuccino back out of my hand. Good morning world ( Read more... )

i guess it sounded like a wet lettuce being thrown at a wall. then there was a stillness in the bus, the silence only broken by the sound of passing cars and distant sirens ( Read more... )