I'm onto my second ban within the space of a couple of months. I was only released back into the wild for about a week and then I get myself banned again (and this current one is my third ban overall) I say I got myself banned, but I think I had a reasonably valid argument in that thread. But when you have Dreadnought wading his stupid great arse in there, with his pro-america, war-is-the-greatest-thing-ever attitude then it's impossible to get a word in edgeways unfortunately. But what can you do. The UG "team" have decided to keep him around for ages, and one man cannot fight an army, in the same way an ant cannot take down a dinosaur.
Perhaps I ought to leave here for good. I've been here nearly four years now, and EVERYTHING is different, and this place isn't the place I fell in love with.
No one is truly funny anymore, and no lulz are to be had on any board.
Everyone has their mouths open and ready for Kensai's cock to be inserted, because now he's like the biggest fucking thing since Jesus invented sliced bread and cured AIDS. I don't understand his brand of "humour".
All the classic users have grown up, matured and moved on, and I miss them. The mods are too strict, as even a clash of opinions results in a ban for the one the mod disagrees with. How can this be branded as a site run by it's users when the opinion of the mod is a totally overruling one?
I don't know, maybe it's just me, but I cannot feel anything near the level of love and happiness that this site used to provide.
If it IS me, tell me, because I'd rather know the truth.
Dreadnought sucks LemonInfluence sucks Carmel sucks Frenchy is Scottish, therefore he sucks
So, I've been banned again. This time my sentence adds up to 45 long days - WHAT AM I GOING TO DO FOR 45 DAYS!? I probably shouldn't have posted a picture of a pair of testicles; I'll know next time not to do that.
And you released it. It's all your fault. What have you done this time.
You have gambled on something you didn't understand; you have failed to
comprehend the gravity of what it is you have put out there on the
table; bet or fold; you are going to lose everything again.
And for what?
For her?
For you?
You don't even know do you?
You sit there in your room; in your house; in your measly existence,
and you sit there alone. You don't have anyone there for you. No one
has anyone there for them.
Life is cold. Life is lonely. Life is empty. Life is pointless. Life is short. Life is ephemeral. Life is over
Your life is over.
The only person you can count on is yourself
The only person you can rely on is yourself
The only person you can trust is yourself.
And what happens when that disappears? What on earth do you do when the
one person in your life you can trust simply vanishes? Where do you go
when you are lost? What do you do when you are gone. I can't see you
anymore, you've faded away into the grey and no matter how much I claw
at it I can't find you. And now I need you, I really need you and
require everything you are urgently.
Because I can feel it today, I can feel it as clear as ever: it is
always there, it never disappears. I can feel it holding me at the
ankles - strong, firm. The arms that reach out of the ground, no matter
where you are. The hands that plough upwards through the soil, and
they're always directly beneath you. The ground shakes; your world
shakes; your vision peters out; a shadow casts black and ominous and it
is there.
Grip once, grip again. Firm. Hard. Strong. It sqeezes you, tight, and
from there you are trapped. It has you by this point. But lets face it,
it always had you - today is simply the first day you felt it. Today is
the first day you felt it AGAIN because YES it HAS been here before.
You recognise those cold hands on your ankles when you walk, when you
stand in a queue, when you sit in your chair. You know those dead hands
SO WELL by now because they have been there before. You've got the
scars there to prove it. You know exactly how it weighs upon you, you
know exactly how it terrifies you when you are alone because you know
what comes next. Yes, it IS coming, and denial will only make the shock
of it worse when the inevitable arrives. That cold, clammy chill on
your ankle is only the start of something you have felt before and you
are dreading the next. You hate the way it catches you slowly, the way
it creeps up on you day by day, week by week BUT IT IS ALWAYS THERE.
From the ankles, the frosty hands slide their palms up your legs and
onto your chest.
He is behind you. You are laying on top of him. You are laying on top of a dead man.
You're paralysed and there isn't anything you can do. You have no one,
not even yourself, and there is no escape from this fate, and as you
feel his dead lifeless legs wrap around yourself, you wish for the end
to arrive and finalise this horrific misery. But no, because that would
be too easy wouldn't it. You have to live through this no matter what,
and his legs don't let you go. They don't even ease. They bind your own
legs together so you can't move them. It clamps you down as his one arm
covers your chest and clings you into itself, while his other arm
engages his hand, the icy hand that slides itself on the side of your
neck and onto your cheek. Rough, brittle, dead. It covers your mouth so
you can't scream. And that is the end, you may as well be dead.
Instead, you live as the dead - a wandering, lost, empty shell of a
human who wants to end the misery.
Your only solace, your only comfort is sleep because he can't hear you
while you sleep. You become someone else and you are free from a
miserable world you can't think about since you're under the hypnotic
spell of a slumber. Aha but he is smart, he knows what he is doing and
now he has come to rape you of the final happiness you had, to destroy
that final haven of joy that was your untouchable dreams, because now
he has found a way in. And that is your end. Life is miserable, cold
and suffocating. And now sleep has become a mirror of that. End game.
Dead.
And there you were thinking you had done so well by shirking this, you
thought that that dark cloud that had been cast prevously had been cast
away by you. YES you were FIGHTING this and you WON! You'd BEATEN the
monster and cast the dead back into the ground. It had all GONE and you
were FREE.
That was until, of course, he came back. He never sleeps, he is always
awake and he scours and searches for a way back in. Don't let it back
in.
You were a fool to think he would ever leave you, and an even bigger
fool if you still believe he will leave you. No, he is here to stay
because he is quite enjoying himself at this point. He has a host, a
human life to grip onto and to clutch close to his chest. He is real in
this world now because he inhabits you. He lives inside your skin now.
He sees what you see, eats what you eat, says what you say, kisses who
you kiss, fucks who you fuck.
Or, rather, is it the other way. He is inside me now, he is a resident
of my body and yet, do I see what he sees? Do I eat what he eats. Do I
say what he says? Do I kiss who he kisses? Do I fuck who he fucks?
Because it feels like it now.
I am not my own self these days, I am someone completely different:
someone I don't even recognise in the mirror, and that is because I am
possessed by the demon that is my depression. He has turned me into
what I am right now because I am him. He hijacked my persona many
months ago and transformed me into what he is. This is a final
declaration on my old life, one final goodbye, a last commemoration to
my old life that I loved so much and that I worked so hard for.
But I am him now.
And I am not going to be allowed back.
My head and face became a flash; my body strangely
Current mood: Broken
I feel like everything is going awry, like it’s definitely not
right. I feel the pressure again, and I hate it with all my soul. I
feel the enormous pressure of failure. I feel like I am not at peace
with my own mind, like I am being torn apart. I feel very much alone.
It’s as if the actions of my day are to just get through my day. I feel
like I don’t want to do this any more. I just want to be me. I want to
go away to a place of calm, a sleep where my eyes really close, where
fear does not exist.
I looked into your eyes and they were not there –
Clouds
fly over my head. A passing stream of consciousness. The day is blue,
the nights draw out, but I long for those dark jet mornings of deep
Prussian blue.
I am sick to death of waiting for another big idea. It’s just not
necessary. Freedom of my mind, of my soul, that’s what’s necessary. A
good way forward – to invent and live, not relive and reinvent. Put my
paws in the old box and see what gets dragged out. A tragic, sad rehash
of my old self – an old self that used to be so much younger, full of
so much life. I feel today that I really don’t want to do this any
more. I am trying to make sense of it all – living – being an artist.
Almost not living – everything held back by an invisible string, a
small fence that divides me, the real me from the real world.
Today,
I feel utterly separate from it. I can’t touch or feel anything. My
eyes even have a slight invisible scrim that moves up and down every
time I open and close my lids – fuzzy world. YES, fuzzy world. Nothing
is hard, nothing sharp. I am very spongy, soft, holey, a little bit
yellow - very, very spongy. I am today what is around me, a jaundiced
place – sad yellow completions racing to the end of the line.
Apparently
today I look happier. Maybe it’s because I swam for the first time in
seven weeks. Or maybe it’s because today when I woke up I knew I was
going to swim, enter the other element, feel light, weightlessness, not
to be attached to the painful standing world.
Today I am very
concerned for a friend, for friends. My concern has somehow turned in
on itself, on to me. From caring for others I am now left almost
loathing myself. I am left with too much me. That is very unhealthy. I
need to be busier, more active. Now I’m arguing with myself. I need to
slow down, sit back, not join in.
Today, I feel like I have wasted |a lot of my life. Nothing is in the |right place.
How
do we measure achievement? Self value? I have rarely, ever, looked in a
mirror and felt good. The last time was 2004 just after I had smashed
my leg up. I took a photo – a very Helmut Newton kind of thing – in a
mirror. My head and face became a flash, my body strangely sexy with my
leg in a cast. I took the photo to keep the memory. Now I have the
memory and it keeps the photo.
Apart from the pain in my leg, I
wish I could look like that again. But my mind, my brain, was a giant
slurping bowl of intense unhappiness, severe loneliness and terrible
self-doubt. But somehow I took the photo, always creative, making
something of the moment, enjoying all my handy craft, touching base
with myself. Now it’s like my hands are a million miles from my brain,
like a disjointed puppet, jerking one way then the other, not really
having any control.
Time is a really horrible state – as in a
place. I wish time did not exist. I want to be free from everything
that entraps me, makes me human – the day, the night, the food, the
love – I wish I could just float away.
But no one does, life is utterly painful, measured, there is very little freedom out there.
Today
I am like a beauty queen. I want to make the world a better place but I
don’t want to travel and speak other languages. I just want to lay in
bed and delegate. I want to be in control, or at least take control.
I
am going to leave the studio now. After another day of mulling around,
on nothing, not starting, not thinking, just hoping my brain will snap
into gear. I don’t have a creative block, a have a strange shadow of
depression – it gets bigger with fear. That’s why I want to be young
again. If only I can readjust the fear – if I knew then what I know
now!
Hide behind your lies,
And hide behind your hypocrisy.
Hide for as long as you can.
Because the truth is coming to
Get you, and it will find you in the end whether
You want it to or not.
The truth will set you free,
The truth will liberate you from corruption
And misery: like a knave from the block
Of the executioner.
Relieve yourself from the agonising
Throes of your soul which cries out
For harmony.
Relinquish your sorrow and free yourself
From the shackles of villainy
And wrongdoing.
Only then will you yield the salvation
Of your soul upon the abolition of
Your lies.
Hatred is not something that will just
Go away: hatred must fade like the grey
Film upon the surface of a polaroid.
Capture the glorious moments of life when
You are freed from your lies and hypocrisy and hate
And your whole world is brought into
Vibrant colourful savlation.
I was cycling across a bridge today, and came across this piece of literature which caught my eye. I liked it so I thought I'd share it.
Here I do visit And from under the eternal stars Rejuvenate from many lands have I paid homages in times
past. I have XSD (crossed) the sea of sand To reach the purple Radfan mountains. Heard I then the Trig El Bill:- ‘The wind passes like a caress over the waves of the desert
sands And the caravan leaves no more trace than a bird’s wing In the air or fish in water. Let us flee the crowd for in the multitude there is No salvation.
All credit on this one goes to timo1, since I saw it in his blog and basically stole it. Anyway;
Step 1: Put your iTunes or equivalent on random. Step 2: Post the first line from the first 35 songs that play, no matter how embarrassing. Step 3: Have people guess what songs they are. Step 4: Bold out the songs when someone guesses correctly.(I highlighted them) Step 5: Looking them up on Google or any other search engine is cheating
1. Give me a little bit of volume on this 2. I know a girl with the Golden Touch 3. Summer in the city where the air is still 4. I took her out, it was a friday night. 5. There's a hole in your logic 6. Make the world go away 7. This is a ballad dat I wrote 8. Thank you for coming home 9. If I say I don't need anyone I can say these things to you 10. Open your eyes cos another day is dawning 11. Somebody better give me a sting 12. Wait by the phone, laid all alone. 13. Your daddy works in porno 14. You can't manufacture a miracle 15. I think about the things I do 16. I'm in you, you're in me, I can't tell 17. I woke the other day 18. And when I see you sigh 19. Yeah I, I get to know your name 20. It's the music that we choose 21. I've been looking for a trace 22. Welcome to the Jungle, we got fun and games 23. Live in a box and then I call it a home 24. She said I'd blow myself away 25. Someone falls to pieces sleeping all alone 26. You're hiding something cos it's burning through your eyes 27. You're so impossible 28. La la la la la la la la la la, I wrote her off for the tenth time today 29. When you're talkin to yourself 30. You light the skies up above me 31. I love you, but I've gotta stay true 32. Downtown in the shade 33. If you could only read my mind 34. 2 Cigarettes, in an ashtray 35. Loose lips sunk ships
Most of these are easy since the first line is actually the title, so no excuses.
| My Profile
BlackLuster's blogs, last updated : November 23, 2009
