I know all the rules, I just don't want to play it.

I don't want to be wanted.
I don't want to be adored, longed for or sought after.
I'd rather be desired for what I am and what I can do and say than be wanted for me.
I don't want to be wanted by anyone.
Not me.
Not me.

life, the universe, and everything.

"Another thing that got forgotten was the fact that against all probability a sperm whale had been suddenly been called into existence several miles above the surface of an alien planet.


And since this is not a naturally tenable position for a whale, this poor innocent creature had very little time to come to terms with its identity as a whale before it then had to come to terms with not being a whale any more.

This is a complete record of its thought from the moment it began its life till the moment it ended it.

Ah . . . ! What's happening? it thought.


Er, excuse me, who am I?


Hello?


Why am I here? What's my purpose in life?


What do I mean by who am I?


Calm down, get a grip now . . . oh! this is an interesting what is it?


It's sort of . . . yawning, tingling sensation in my . . . my . . . well, I suppose I'd better start finding names for things if I want to make any headway in what for that sake of what I shall call an argument I shall call the world, so let's call it my stomach.


Good. Ooooh, it's getting quite strong. And hey, what about this whistling roaring sound going past what I'm suddenly going to call my head? Perhaps I can call that . . . wind! Is that a good name? It'll do . . . perhaps I can find a better name for it later when I've found out what it's for.


It must be something very important because there certainly seems to be a hell of a lot of it. Hey! What's this thing? This . . . let's call it a tail - yeah, tail. Hey! I can really thrash it about pretty good, can't I? Wow! Wow! That feels great! Doesn't seem to achieve very much but I'll probably find out what it's for later on. Now, have I built up any coherent picture of things yet?


No.


Never mind, hey, this is really exciting, so much to find out about, so much to look forward to, I'm quite dizzy with anticipation . . . Or is it the wind?


There really is a lot of that now, isn't there? And wow! Hey! What's this thing suddenly coming toward me very fast? Very, very fast. So big and flat and round, it needs a big wide-sounding name like . . . ow . . . ound . . . round . . . ground! That's it! That's a good name- ground!


I wonder if it will be friends with me?

And the rest, after a sudden wet thud, was silence.

Curiously enough, the only thing that went through the mind of the bowl of petunias as it fell was Oh no, not again. Many people have speculated that if we knew exactly why the bowl of petunias had thought that we would know a lot more about the nature of the Universe than we do now."
 

You don't want a girl like me.

Maybe I'm a crook for stealing your heart away


And maybe I'm a crook for not caring for it

And maybe I'm a bad, bad, bad, bad person

Well baby, I know.

Don't go looking for the answer, it's the question you don't know.

And that love that we fatally made
And the doves that took it away
And the love that you said it can't stay
It went away

you were a child who was made of glass

and when you're gone, will they say your name?
and when you're gone will they love you the same?
if not, that's okay.

why can't we just rewind?

"If wealth is lost, nothing is lost. If health is lost, something is lost. But, if character is lost, everything is lost."

she means well, so give her a chance.

stop biting the hand that feeds you before you take off more than you can chew and choke yourself to an early grave.

if only life could lean our way.

all the loudest voices in the world are never right.

i've never been good with change

but i hate it when it all stays the same.

Drunk from the street and from feeling, seeing, hearing everything at once.

I carry inside my heart,
As in a chest too full to shut,
All the places where I've been,
All the ports at which I've called,
All the sights I've seen through windows and portholes
And from quarterdecks, dreaming,
And all of this, which is so much, is nothing next to what I want.

kinda sorta miss you heaps, loser.

one of these days your heart will stop and play its final beat.

i'm not going to make the effort anymore.

just let it all fall in line.

I thought I understood it. That I could grasp it.
But I didn't, not really. Only the smudgeness of it, the pink-slippered, all-containered, semi-precious eagerness of it.
I didn't realise that it would sometimes be more than whole,
that the wholeness was a rather luxurious idea.
Because it's the halves that halve you in half.
Didn't know, don't know,
about the in-between bits,

the gory bits of you

and gory bits of me.