The interview

A Fictional short story

This morning I woke up, awake. Yes, you read that right. You see my eyes typically open post-slumber on most mornings. However, they are very reluctant to open, and the optical nerves don’t relay any meaningful data to let me know that I’m no longer in sleepy land. It’s like being drunk except that you’re also very, very angry. No matter how much I’ve slept I’m still tired. My brain is shouting curses in Gaelic with a Spanish accent. My legs are numb, my hands are shaky, my nose is blocked and itchy, and I need to pee. 

And I hate everything about the world. Mostly that it’s a world, because, let’s face it, we have no other comparison. Well, except dreamy land, but I can’t keep having the same dream that I’m swimming naked over and over again. So anyways, although most mornings I’m generally in the grim reaper’s sweet embrace, today was different. 

Oh, I still had the blocked nose, the numb legs, and conflicted deeply between the desire to empty my bladder and the never-ending pleas from my inner child whining for five more minutes in sleepy land. But today, I had something special. I had an interview. Before you get excited, this wasn’t the type of interview that I had a million times in front of the bathroom mirror, where I explained to Vogue magazine how I cured cancer, won an Oscar, and got out of the friend zone with my high school crush. 

This was the type of interview that is being presented by the evil minds who concocted dentistry, taxes…and math. You see, there are many opportunities available to someone who is currently unemployed like me. I could write a book, learn programming, learn a skill, or get out my smartphone, and make dumb videos of myself pouting and wearing revealing clothing to get the gloriously sought-out title of “influencer”. 

The influencer is everything I’m not, everything I loathe, and secretly, everything I want. I’m not an attractive, blonde girl with lip fillers, silicone implants, and designer bikinis. I’m a young, short guy, with an average IQ and about 10 followers on Instagram. I loathe them because they have nothing to offer the world except for a pouty kiss and a promise of intimacy. Keeping in mind this promise of intimacy deceptively advertised through Instagram is based on the notion that if a really hot girl is available to be interacted with through social media, then surely, after enough likes and comments simping out on her feed, she will realize that you are the knight in shining armour she was always looking for. 

The word promise is used in reference to the watered-down version of the word currently in circulation amongst politicians, corporate investor reports, and every person who wants to hear a juicy secret on a non-disclosure condition. But enough about influencers, they couldn’t influence me to write more than a paragraph about them. Crap.

Where was I, oh yes, the interview. It was for a job. The easy way to work harder than you should, for less than you could make, with the security that you could lose everything you worked for by making one mistake. Because it gives you guaranteed money. Of course, guaranteed that you don’t make any mistakes, and work harder than you should, I think I’m repeating myself here. 

To give you a little background about my skill sets. I used to play the flute. I helped my dad change the oil on his car once. I know how to turn an omelet into a scrambled egg. I can make instant coffee (although I have to read the instructions twice). And I have a bachelor's degree in animal psychology. However, I have no experience working for anyone other than my cousin Margaret who owned a barber’s shop. My job was to sweep up the hair. I got fired after I got into a philosophical debate with my university friends on the power of belief and how skills can be acquired through the power of observation. 

In short, this involved me observing my barber aunt effortlessly cut hair, and on her lunch break once, deciding to be the hero and attempt to cut a customer’s hair. The result was uneven, too long in the front, too short at the top, and I tried to convince the woman that bald spots were fashionable in 20-something-year-old girls. 

So for the last 5 months, I’ve been searching for a job. Job searches are like being bitten by fire ants while listening to house music being played as you wait on hold to speak to the tax office. When you start looking for a job you have this incredible idea of what you want in your head. You think of the perfect job that is easy to do, makes use of your talents, pays well, and has a brilliant career progression. By the time you are one month into your job search, you’ve gone from “They would be so lucky to have me” to “I’d settle for minimum wage and a 2-hour commute each way”. 

You see, for someone with no experience, a job hunt is terrifying. Even for people with experience, it’s never easy. Job hunting is kind of like online dating. You’re both swiping on Tinder. But while you’re thinking, “great smile” (good pay) “nice rack” (job duties look acceptable) “cool hair” (short commute), they are also swiping thinking “too short” (not enough experience) “not stylish enough” (not enough experience) and “he looks like someone I just want to be friends with” (not enough experience). 

I felt very pretentious at first with my job hunting. I’d start by thinking, about what I want, what will be perfect for me, and what will make me happy. But, like my dating life, 5 months in, all I’m thinking of is, would you take me? In my limited experience, I found that the job recruiting world is geared towards strict vetting of CVs to see if candidates have the desired experience, qualifications, and skills before they get so far as an online assessment. 99.9% of all my online applications didn’t even get to an online assessment. They just vetted me straight out the door, after taking one look at my pot-belly CV. 

If you are lucky enough to get to an online assessment, this typically involves competency-based exercises designed to see if you have basic literary and problem-solving skills. Once you have passed this stage, you are about as in as having matched on tinder. Now, it’s yours to screw up. By the way, opening a tinder conversation with “would you rather fight ten duck-sized horses, or one horse sized duck” is not a good opener. Neither is “hello there”, although I persist with this one, because the girl of my dreams doesn’t have to be pretty or have a nice rack. But she has to know that the correct response is “General Kenobi”. 

So once you’ve passed the online assessment, you have the phone interview. This isn’t so bad. It’s like a warm-up before you begin the real workout. They ask you dumb ass questions which have nothing to do with what you’ll be doing in real life. They are assessing the confidence with which you speak, your enthusiasm, your passion, your focus, and also your ability to do something that you have no idea how to do. It’s funny how they think that your ability to do a complex job properly can be established based purely on how specific you are with answering questions that you were not prepared or trained to answer. 

But, shaky knees, sweaty palms, and quivering voice aside, 3 days ago, I passed the phone interview. It was for a call center job. It was customer service. Selling something. Or customer serving something. Or providing support on something. I really didn’t pay attention, I was so busy trying to tell my knees to stop shaking. The job description simply harped on how they wanted a dedicated, passionate associate, committed to providing excellent levels of customer service. The job responsibilities were equally vague, managing inbound calls with a high level of accuracy and diligence and delivering on KPIs, completing routine training, and acknowledging customer queries. I didn’t know what they did, and throughout the phone interview, this didn’t seem to come up in the conversation. 

Today I have the face-to-face interview. I had planned the outfit I wanted to wear the night before, as I knew that I’d have to wake up early and get to the interview on time. I had 3 shirts of acceptable quality. By acceptable, I’m using the term that politicians use to describe the state of the economy, their unethical co-worker’s conduct, or their oversized pay packets. The first shirt was slightly crushed around the sleeves. The second shirt was faded and missing half a button. The third shirt was crushed around the back of the shirt and had a stain in the lower right corner. 

I went with shirt number three, as I could tuck the shirt in, and I figured that I’d just walk in and out of the room in a way so that they never saw my back. The shirt was grey, and the only trousers I had were a different shade of grey. Only 48 more shades and I can get a totally different job, I thought to myself, smiling at my wit. Maybe I should tell that joke at the interview, people love jokes, it breaks the ice. Luckily, common sense reared its ugly head to stop me in my tracks. Phew, I thought, what if I had actually said that joke, I would be fired before I got the job. 

Thankful that I just had a close escape, I decided to give common sense the rest of the day off and powered on towards my interview without a single intelligent thought in my head for company. This was a mistake. But I didn’t realize this at the time, because I had just given common sense the day off, and no one was there to tell me how stupid I was being. 

I make my way to the interview. There are people sitting around me, wearing suits and ties. I’m wearing sneakers. They look at me smugly and say hi to me like they are my best friend. They ask me what job I’m interviewing for, and once they find out I’m going for the same job, they look at me with all the sincerity of a pastor preaching to a wayward flock and tell me with conviction that they hope that I get the job. Then they subtly drop how well educated they are and how qualified they are for this job. But in the most humble way. Like, “I only have 12 years experience in customer service and have only won employee of the year 7 times. I’ve only exceeded my targets by 300%, and my uncle is only a senior assistant to the mayor”. 

There are croissants and breakfast foods, tea, and coffee. I’m too nervous to eat, I say as I eat my fifth danish. (Pastry, not a Scandinavian person). I sit there glancing at the clock. I don’t know why I’m glancing at the clock, I’m number 5 in the group, and we are being interviewed one at a time. I should be looking at the door and waiting for number 3 to come out, so I can watch number 4 smugly walk in. But I’m looking at the clock. I suppose that’s the thing with waiting rooms, even though half the time you are waiting in a queue, you still look at your watch or clock, thinking that at some point the universe will say “hey, you’ve been waiting long enough, it’s your time to shine now”. 

My time to shine finally comes. Based on the amount I’m sweating, I’d certainly say I’m shining. I sit down. I smile awkwardly. The interviewers smile reassuringly, asking me how I’m doing and if I feel nervous. I mean, isn’t it obvious from the shaking knees and my inability to say anything more than “hello”? 

The first question. 

Give me an example of a time where you have done better than you thought you could have done, had you known that you wouldn’t have been as good as you were when you first started thinking about the time when you thought you did what you had done. 

I ask them to repeat the question. They repeat it. 

I stare at them blankly. 

I ask for a glass of water. I sip the water. They are looking at me with raised eyebrows, hopeful eyes, and gentle, warming smiles. These people can’t tell that you are confused, I say to myself. Just start talking. I didn’t understand the exact question, but I did hear the words "better" and "thought". 

So I started talking about the time that I had a paper to turn in, and I was a little late, but I did better than I thought I would have done. Halfway through the first sentence, I start a mini argument inside my head about whether I think it’s relevant to say that the reason I was late with the paper was that I misunderstood the date it was due. By misunderstood, I thought it was a month in the future. And then a month in the future came around and it turned out that I had forgotten about it completely. 

So I stuttered that the due date was clear on the submission form agenda from the upper supervisory board of controlled dictating requirements. All made-up bullshit, but if you are going to throw a lot of confusing words at me, I’m prepared to salvo on back. I then said that the paper was due on an area that wasn’t my specialty, and that I felt that I wasn’t prepared enough. 

I didn’t tell them that the reason I wasn’t specializing in this area was that I skipped classes to play beer darts pong. This was an extremely competitive sport that involved flinging darts at one another while drinking beer and attempting to catch the darts using ping pong bats. After the flying dutchman incident (Jan Hendrik in a famously dangerous attempt to fly across the goalpost to catch the winning dart), the sport was frowned upon. I said that the reason was that my specialty was focused on European culture and the study of projectile-based aerodynamic physics with a liquid-based stimulant. 

The story was an inspirational ballad that would have shamed Abraham Lincoln. It was about bravery, dedication, ingenuity, adaptability, and overwhelming results. I said that the result was the highest in my group. Seeing as my group consisted of Jan Hendrik and the other beer darts pong players, two of whom were in the hospital with puncture wounds, this was actually not a grand achievement. I got a C Minus. For a 500-word report that had to be titled, “why animals are cute to some people.” It wasn’t that impressive, but the way I said it, you would have thought that I passed a medical school entrance exam in the top percentile. 

The second question

Tell me about an achievement that you are really proud of and how it has helped mold you into the character that you will be in five years' time if you get this job. 

Ok, I literally just told you about my greatest achievement. I can’t seem like I can’t think quick on my feet. Why do people say think on their feet. The feet are literally the furthest body part away from the thinky part of the body. What’s the thinky part. Breen? Breighn? Brian? I know it must be far away from my feet because I just thought that Brian was far away from my feet. Where are my words? Where is thinky part. What is achievement? What ever happened to Jan Hendrik? Oh, yes, he got expelled from school after he claimed that the holes in his hand were because he was Jesus returned. 

I then start to laugh. I then catch my laugh, and in a split second, thinky part says, turn it into a cough. Then Brian (wait…brain…hey, brain, how are you old friend), suddenly says what if people think you are sick and end the interview. So I try and take a deep breath. But once I have taken the in air, I forget what to do with the out air. How do I get rid of the air, through the mouth or the nose? Which one would look more professional? I speak with the mouth, so air goes out through the mouth. 

I then exhale loudly with my mouth and blow some of the papers on the desk to the side. Everyone laughs. I laugh, and I feel better. Then I realized that I forgot the question. I ask them to repeat it. 

I then talk about the time I played the flute effortlessly for an audience of 100 people in a school band. Of course, I was playing it fast and loose with the word effortlessly, the same way a woman might describe childbirth if she was trying to reassure another expectant mother with devious lies. 

 The third question

Why do you think that you will do well at this job?

I was not expecting this one. I thought they were the people who would say whether or not they thought I would do well at this job. Surely, they must assume that I think I’d do well at the job. I wouldn’t show up for an interview thinking, yea, I’ll probably get fired on my third day, but at least I had fun at the interview and got to eat 5 danishes (pastries, again I don’t eat people on the grounds that they taste bad, probably. Also they have a lot of calories, I’d never lose the weight.)

Now, I could try and fake some of that confidence that the girls who have put me in the friend zone always tell me that I need. But I decide that confidence is overrated and simply go for broke. I launch an impassioned speech about the odds of success and failure, and that people always expect success but never prepare for failure. Halfway through I think it sounds too pessimistic and I can see the disapproving frowns on their faces as the thought of someone who motivates colleagues to accept failures starts to cause them fears that their corporate agency of overwhelming positive reinforcement (with a dash of, failure means you lose your job) might be superseded. 

So halfway through I change it to a rant about how people who set themselves up for failure will fail. And I don’t believe that I have come this far to fail and that if given the opportunity, I will excel at my job. 

And so, they smile at me, shake my hand, and tell me that they’ll be in touch. 

As I walk out, I have the feeling that the sun is shining more brightly, and that the stars are sparkling more vividly. Neither of these is true, as it’s raining miserably. I look at the clock as I exit, as I had just been told that they will be in touch, and somehow looking at the clock while waiting for something to happen is just something people do. 

If I Could Travel in Time

What, oh what would I say to me
If I traveled back a year or three
Would I wonder why I was sad
Would I still talk about what I had

Who knows the path that lies ahead
They told me the truth but they never said
That regret is a poison mixed with envy
Is contentment a myth or only pity

Would I ask myself to be stronger
Would I say just hold on a little longer
Can you find an answer without asking a question
Can you take a stance without choosing a position

Your plan has traces of the nefarious
Your joy is mine, but I'm still jealous
Am I here or still clinging to a shadow
My outlook was and is truly harrowed

So maybe I would listen, learn, then try to speak
About how the mountain's most beautiful at its peak
But I made it this far so I will carry on
I hummed a tune, now I sing the song

Ancient forces have long debated with rage
That wisdom doesn't always come from a sage
But hindsight has a way of creating
Nothing more than a sense of longing

I wish I could have, I wish I didn't
Those two thoughts I deem repellent
For down that road you only find pain
When you wish you could do it again

So live in the moment and please don't hope
To undo your actions, instead why not cope
Say you're sorry and then move forward
No one is going to call you an unjust coward

So I guess I would say you are going to make mistakes
But what you give is more important than what you take
No one can be perfect in any way, shape or form
But you can try to be different from the norm

So hold on tight the best is coming soon
Not everyone is born with a silver spoon
But be the best that you could hope to be
And stop making yourself the enemy

You know

You know the sun only shines so bright
Because she wanted to prove that you were right
The glowing beams spread across your face
As you turn your back and pray for grace

Your heart simply beats an anguished rhythm
Because you played and found yourself beaten
Your bones to this day remain unbroken
Because she cast a spell that was unspoken

The rain falls down in an expanding mess
Representing what she once possessed
And sometimes you being to wonder
If it was her voice that brought the thunder

Your lungs are fit to capture polluted air
She taunted you to an unspeakable dare
With every breath you took she observed
She was the fiber of every nerve

The wind howls like an unstoppable torment
Yet she was the hope that kept you buoyant
You feel it flowing rapidly on
And you know she is not truly gone

And on rolls the debacle you call a brain
She is the reason you aren't completely insane
Protecting the beauty of the subconscious thought
Yet she was the only thing you wish you forgot

Look up at  the stars, they sparkle tonight
But only because she made them fight
Where would you be without their guidance
Would you walk, leap, step or prance

Your skin is the covering that envelopes completely
Because she held you in her arms so gently
Covering the frame that was valued most
And now all that remains is a haunted ghost

Nothing is ever truly finished
Even the chord that's half-diminished
And so you're left alone in a world so twisted true
You know the sea is salty, because she cried for you.

Look at me

I see your eyes searing the insides of my brain
I see the tears about to fall like gloomy rain
Why do you hate me, I can only question
Did you not hear me, did you never learn your lesson

Where is folly but in the grasp of a dreamer
You despise me I know, but I am still a believer
That maybe your dislike is only just a trend
But you disparage my thoughts till the very end

You tell me you wish I was a better man
You tell me you never did what only I can
You tell me I am nothing more than a loser
You say I'm too weak to be a fighter

Thwarting my progression at every turn
Again, can you not hear me, do you ever learn
Malnourished purely from discontent
A sinner you are, now go and repent

Whenever you look at me, you never smile
You know everything about me, it's all in my file
Crazed with loathing everything that I am
You destroy my walls with your battering ram

Hostile to praise when it abounds
Clasping the ground without a sound
You say my words are really worthless and crass
As I realize that I gaze at a reflection, in the looking glass

Random short poems

Who am I

Who am I, the oldest question in the book
Well if you want to know, why don't you take a look
Where are you is what some will chant
The air is fresh let me continue to rant

Loquacious in thought, but hesitant in speech
The answer comes from those who cannot teach
So they say dusk comes before dawn
The night is the refuge where the demons spawn

I answer your question with a retort
Surrender being only a last resort
I do not know who I am or who I will be
What I crave is only anonymity






This Is Me

My darling can't you see
That this is me
Far away from the corners
Head hanging just above the shoulders
Pretty it seems for just cause
Sordid are those without laws
Tried and true, there is relief
Falsified delusion, your real belief


I Am Sorry

 I see you standing next to oblivion
You see me but you stopped caring
The knife in your back was placed by me
Is it too late to say that I'm so sorry
It takes a genius to say you're right
But even the gods will stop to fight
For even they know the only real song
That it takes more than divinity to admit you're wrong

The Introspection of the Bard

Fear, the emotion imperceptible
Anger, the diet of the forsaken
Desire, the force inescapable
Joy, what's forgotten when all is taken

Pain is the culmination of these four
But I forgot hope, the blissful ally
The gentle spirit knocking on the door
The voice that implores you, give it a try

Peace is the nirvana we try to find
But where does it comes from, don't you ask me
A place no one can touch inside your mind
So simply try to perceive the beauty

For love is the treasure worth more than gold
So now going once, going twice...and sold

The Unending Search

You're looking for what doesn't exist in a place where nothing can be found

Your mangled tribulation has lowered you to the forlorn ground

You think about what you want when you don't want it to happen

You gave what was not yours and hoped it was forgotten

You're searching for that which doesn't have a name

Yet you feel pride while others would feel shame

You are the contradiction which invalidates its own nature

You are the unseen masquerade, a grotesque creature.

Beauty is found in the very last quest

Radiance is you at your very best

Pursuant to the redundancy of your endless search

You're free like a bird, yet you only stay perched

You're following a leader, though you're walking backward

You're charismatic and charming, but still quite awkward

Take a look at the mess and you see only beauty

Fighting for victory, but settling for a treaty

Harrowed and haunted, reticence is your call

Lofty and vaunted, yet you are only trying to stall

Who knows the desires burning inside

Watching with glee as you start to writhe

You look in the mirror at the darkest reflection

And then start to walk in the wrong direction

Who's to say who's right or just ridiculous

Yet dare I say you're far too presumptuous

While others are looking for the Holy Grail

You are obsessed with your own white whale

There are memories which you like to reminisce

Yet all of them have no objective purpose

Precious detail is what you like to hoard

Excitement is that which makes you feel bored

You collect what has no value and keep it in your store

But worst of all, you don't even know what you're looking for

Come to me

To the fairest of souls in an unfair world

To the darkest of fears all wrapped in a pearl

To the conqueror of dreams on a night so worn

To the father of terrors only soon to be born

No phrase as ghastly from the one who spoke

No ears hear the words of those still unwoke

The blessed call but the sound forgotten

The voice unheard, all faith rotten

The psychic swears, the mentor sings

The clock struck one, but the bells still ring

Fight for nothing, live amongst the ash

Avoid the curve, only to hear the crash

Try to avoid the lips unpursued

Feel the doom as you find yourself cursed

Look to the sunlight, for there is joy

But forget not the moonlight, my wayward boy

For the rays only show for those in the present

The past long gone, the future in the heavens

Call me a fool, I’m sure you’re right

Watch me run, far away from the fight

Cast your blessing upon me, you witless seer

Look me in the eye, you will see true fear

And so life goes on without a fumble

The house stands strong, pray it doesn’t crumble

As hope lives on in this fraught struggle

Don’t breathe the word, just solve the puzzle

Ask me for meaning and a quizzical stare you get

Instead ask for the truth and hope I don’t forget

Only one can know the demons inside

Only those afraid know where to hide

Kiss my head and tell me a story

Hide my crown and with it my glory

See me now, I don’t understand

How you know me like the back of your hand

Come to me, you know I want you around

But don’t come too close, this is holy ground

Leave the light on

You struggle from the past you can’t see

You hear the voices of your enemies

Though dark is the way, in this struggling age

Help is for the brave, yet who pays the wage?

You’re scared you tell me, why only me?

Are you fighting to be free, or just to be

Living in the past doesn’t pay the bills

Dying for no one won’t stop the chills

So tell me sweetheart, should I leave the light on?

Are you still afraid of the monsters that are gone?

Will you let me comfort you with a kind smile?

Or will you let me struggle all the while?

I am your guardian, your protector, your whispering voice

I am resolute, careful to help you make the choice

To be unafraid when the darkness surrounds

To let me drive the evil out of town

So hush now child and find some rest

Listen to my words, they are the test

It could be said that over me you fawn

But if you’re scared I can leave the light on

Trust me sweet one, I am not the harbinger cold
I am not the whisper of doom so old

You need to know who you can trust

You need to feel, or else you will rust

You are partners with me in this great con

So don’t feel ashamed if you need the light on.

The Praise You Gave Yourself

Scorched, twisted, bent out of frame

Deluded, lacerated, whose to blame

Out of the darkness you do shine

Oh hail, my friend the sweet taste of wine

With it my power, is only just a myth

Without it I sour, Lord take from me this gift

Can you say forever, without saying never?

Will you boast all day, until I admit you’re clever?

Careful are the days that are weighed without shame

Beautiful are the ways, that are only just the same

Harrowed you fight, only seeking grace

Troubled yet right, see the look on your face

If not but pleasure, will you tell me my fate

Torture me forever, I am a selfish ingrate

Worse are the pearls cast before the swine

Look at the treasure eluding you so fine

You say you have doubts but do you remember

How to fight the cold in the drear December

No one knows who played the right battle

All that is known is who was in the saddle

So heed my word, you darkened knave
Take my words to your empty grave

Leave the lost where they were found

Tie the fable to where it was bound

Hope to not cause too much distress

Maybe this will cause you to confess

And so you run, when nobler men stood

Forever living from a heart made of wood

As times wear on, you must profess

A love whose very name is blessed.

And so you seek to praise yourself true

Claiming every shade, every color, every hue

You don’t know that you are lost

You pay the price without knowing the cost

Simple are you in mind

Hope that you don’t seem unkind

Live without laughter, that’s the key

Or have you found the remedy?

A promise that was made

A shadow in the shade

Do you even recall

The most haunting fragment of all

Or do you finally simple choose
To live a life only you can lose

To those who are there for me

So I really wanted to say something
I kinda sorta feel like it’s true
The fact you keep me from too much thinking
And save me from the feeling a little blue

Life is a treasure oft unrecognized
Beauty is a gift that you hold within
The purpose to finally realize
That to not show love is the only sin

The small things matter on a dreary day
The laughs, the joy that comes when you’re around
You listen like I have something important to say
You care about the tree that fell with no sound

When you are around I suddenly don’t care
About my petty squabbles with myself
I find myself feeling lighter than air
My worries are left unnoticed on the shelf

Can I tell you my only real secret
Can I explain what I feel inside
If I tell you will you promise to keep it
The truth is that I want to hide

But you’ve helped me become braver
You’ve given me confidence
You have the love of a savior
And got me off my wretched fence

I’ve always known that you were wise
But I never thought I was that smart
But you told me the truth with your eyes
That wisdom only comes from the heart

So these are a few lines I wrote for all to hear
You mean so much more than I can speak
My friends who I am proud to hold so dear
Who’ve made me think that I’m not weak

So live and laugh and dance a while
Sing and chant and feel your soul
Be finally rid of the treacherous bile
And then you realize that you are whole

We need each other, that’s all I know
Forget the wrong that others have done
Try to help those who feel real low
For you are my never setting Sun

You’ve watched me crawl, walk, and then run
You’ve whispered to me to simply try
And so you witnessed all said and done
You gave me wings, now watch me fly.

The Man who Ran

No one ever saw him. The man who ran.

No one even heard him. The one who sang.

He was alone in nothing,

while surrounded by everything

He was left without a feeling,

though he could still feel the bleeding

He was cast aside from Heaven, drifting into Satan's clan

He was the only word spoken, and yet somehow he ran

He fought for her, until she stopped fighting him

He sold his soul, watched the light grow dim

He left it unheard, the earth's symphony

He was swimming in fear, of blatant blasphemy

No one could tell him where he was

No one could tell him if it was just because

Horrid and horrified, going against the plan

Because we never saw him, the man who ran

Laid back, yet never lethargic

Unholy but somehow cathartic

Twisted and tied, the tears in his eyes

Pounding his chest, until he sighs

Living for love, loving till loss

Hoping for joy, and losing the toss

You only know the one who can

But who ever cared for the man who ran

And so he kept running, until all faded

And so he kept fighting, although he felt jaded

Yet somehow he reigned triumphant

Although some said it couldn't be done

And he remained a touch blatant

Because he knew he'd won

Angels will swoon, and try to hide the ban

But no one will ever speak

Of the heroic man who ran

You

I think I've asked you this before

Yet never can I get a straight answer

You skip, you hide, you dodge

And suddenly it's over.

I ask you again.

Why did you do it

You give me that sullen look in your eye

And say it was nothing

Showmanship, a publicity stunt

A parade of vanity for pride's sake

You can see everything yet you choose to shut your eyes

You can hear it all, and yet somehow you cry

You tell me your alone

When I am right here

You say that it doesn't count

And rule your own testimony inadmissable

You owned, therefore you lost

You say no one wants to listen

And so excuse yourself from speaking

And in your silence, do you find peace?

Or is it just silence, without reason

Of logic and lust

Fame and villainy

A heartbreak served with a kiss

You took the blows

Yet you never dealt one

You took one through the heart

And a thousand through the head

A vicious litany to charm away the dark

Repugnant rationality echoing within your soul

You were everything when there was nothing

And yet you still struggle to find your way

The strong fall, the mighty will fade

But you never told me why you fell for them all

You never told me if it hurt

And worse, you never told me why you cried

You never told me it was ok

That you left for me to figure out

I can't look you in the eye, I would melt or fade away

I can't stand up for fear I fall

I can only lean close and sing to a god

Would You Adore Me?

Is it ok?

If out of the teeming void of unloved and unloving...

Can I just ask for one

One of 7 billion

To think that I'm the best?



I don't need to be number 1 anymore.

This world has too many competing for the title

And none worried about those unloved.

But can you be my hero, my cheerleader, my guide?

And can you...

Withstand all logic and defy all sense

Obstruct the obvious conclusion

That they all have

And still think I'm the best?



Don't roll out a blood-red carpet

Leave the cheering fans in my head where they exist

Don't stop the clocks, leave the kettle on.

Let me be alone in my obscurity.

But can you be alone with me?

And still think I'm the best?



How did I end up here?

How did I get so lost?

Can you even find me?

Why can't I feel you?

When you are all around me?

Why can't I see you?

When you sing a lullaby to calm me to sleep

Every night

That I am without you.



Can you not see me for the wreck they see me as

Can I beg for a sympathetic saviour

Can't I use my one wish

To ask for just one



You don't need to say it,

I don't need to hear it.

It can be our little secret.

That somewhere deep inside

Only one soul needs to think it



And one day I will find you

And for a reason which I will never know

You will put my aching heart to rest

And somehow think I'm the best.

Swear to Me

Laughing, looking, living

Pressed by torment, driven by rage

All vanity for the sake it was

And for all gods, the sake was in vain

Reaching up to heights further than demons can travel

Swimming in seas fit for no fossil

If you looked behind the veil

Would you see only disappointment?

Would you?

Swear to me?


After travelling roads forged by drunken thieves

Leaping, tripping, falling

If only to get back up again

To say I'm lost would be pointless

For in order to be lost you have to be heading somewhere

But I can hear your voice

Comforting, calling, caring

And it's all I can do to push it away

And ask you to swear to me


If angels could dance,

Do you think you could follow?

Don't you know I have seen you

Whilst you hide from sight

I know you know

You are all around me

So why won't you swear to me


Give me something to cling to

For abstract thought cannot produce specificity

Neither can reasoned hope star in a dream

You are all I have

Although had I everything

I would wish it away to have only you

A word

A curse

A promise

For me, for her, for they

After all has passed,

And we are past it all

Would you set me free

Will you let it all go

And swear to me.

If You Could Read My Mind

If I told you,

Would you cry with me?

If I told you, would you make sense out of madness?

Would you hold me, while I cling to nothing?

Would you care if I told you I couldn't anymore?

Would you pull me out of the depths of despair only to find a dream so precious it had never been dreamed before?

Is it ok for me to be alone?

Have I ever been without you though?

I can't remember what I fear most, losing you or loving myself.

I can't tell you how cold I was, trapped in a cave of my own creation.

I can't tell you how lonely it could be when you are surrounded by people.

For whence it was dark, there is now a foggy mist, from which the faintest speck of light can be seen.

But maybe that's all I ever needed.

The trick is that I can't even say what's wrong.

All I know is that something is missing.

Something is not quite right with the world,

And I suppose it's always been between you and I to fix up the mess

That God knows who started.

Is there brilliance without you?

I wouldn't know, because I can't see one without the other.

Can there be regret if there is nothing to appreciate in the first place.

Save that it was just you and I.

Can I get a reaction without an action to necessitate it?

Can I get a favor without a promise to return it?

Mother, I have answered what you called me out on.

You asked a small child to define why gods and kings ruled while others suffered

And all I could do was to find the beauty in the pain.

And draw a heartbreaking tear to trickle down the face of the proudest man

As he contemplates what it is to be just human.

And in the humanity, he finds himself.

Scarred, scared and sacred.

All he ever needed.

What was this world always coming to?

Firstly I'd just like to say how distressed and upset I am over the recent terror attacks in Manchester. And so, I do what I always do when something affects me, I write about it. Most people actually get up and do something, but I always preferred to think of myself as the person who inspires rather than achieves. This could also be loosely translated as lazy, but I like to find a more creative way of thinking about it.

Anyways.

Kids.

Are you kidding me?

I can't say I understand violence. I would never hurt a fly. Mostly because the fly would probably win but that's neither here nor there. But violence against kids? Surely this is a new low for us as a species.

Here's the problem with violence. The very act is triggered by evolutionary responses to outside threats and disturbances. I get that, we had to survive during the early stages of humanity and we could clearly never get along. You engage with someone to neutralize or combat a threat. Problem is, whether the threat is real or not, you have still picked a way of dealing with the situation which will only make matters worse. The funny thing in movies is how often the hero wins simply by putting a bullet into the bad guy's skull, never taking into account the friends and family Mr Bad Guy had who will now be seeking revenge. And this cycle of revenge just continues.

Here's something else which no one else really thinks about. When you attack a species, you bring out the strongest in them. You unite them and give them something to live and die for. This is the exact opposite of what you would want when trying to subdue a nation/race/group and ensures that your goal becomes impossible. So will invading other countries and killing more people actually help make your own country safer or will it do the exact opposite?

The thing that really gets me is that those who refrain from violence and aggression are perceived as weak. What some don't understand that it actually takes a much more different type of strength to be able to resist those evolutionary impulses and rise above what makes you human. Because the most beautiful thing about being human is the fact that we are the only species with the ability to choose to override their very nature. And to forgive someone that has caused you pain takes a strength that is simply not natural and it is a mystery as to how it comes about in the first place.

Now to those who act in violence in the name of a God. I'm not religious, but I'm pretty sure that if I was a God and created every single human, I'd be pissed off with anyone running around killing people in my name. He's a damned God, for Christ's sake. He can do his own bloody killing if he wants it. Mic drop.

What about those who confuse extremists with religious people? It would be like sifting through a barrel of nails, finding a bent one, and even though the bent nail is completely out of character with the rest of the barrel, deciding that all the other nails must be bad too. And with any race, group or society, you'll find a few good, a few bad and a few messed up beyond hope. And that's because we are all human, yet the classifications (race, religion, creed) that we cling to in our struggle to find identity don't define us as individuals or a species. What really defines us are the choices we make. I guess what I'm trying to say is that you will never know more than what you see on the surface if that's the only place you'll look. To be more blunt, do you want to characterize the undesirable traits of an individual as based on the surface classifications that you can observe, such as race, religion or creed...or maybe see that the individual is simply afflicted by the human condition in a way that you will never understand?

Maybe all it takes to save the human race from imploding on itself is for someone to put their hand up and take responsibility. To ask for forgiveness. And to forgive. To be the better person.

Now could somebody else please do this.

I am far too lazy.

I hope you've been inspired.

For My Benz

I don't know what to tell you.

I don't know why you're upset.

But if you are, count me in.

If you are, tell me, and I will try and help.

I wish I could do more than try,

I wish I could fix these things.

And you have no idea what it's like to sit helplessly while someone else suffers.

Or maybe you do.

I wish I could stomp on the face of the person who hurt you.

I wish I could hug you and make everything better.

But I am cursed to a single form, understanding less of the world I thought I had figured out.

All I can do is rage at the rain until it stops.

Scream at the ceiling till it collapses.

And laugh at the stars until they stop shining.

If I had a wing, I would stretch it over you, shield you from the worst

If I could take your pain and make it my own, I would.

For you.

To me, no problem is too petty, which makes it even harder when it's not.

A quarter century isn't enough to comprehend what you are facing.

And if the collective consciousness of all loved, lived and dead has not figured out how to make it stop, what can I do?

But I am here.

There.

Somewhere.

And sometimes, when you're feeling low, remember that I care.

If it all becomes black and you can't find your way, you know where to find me.

I can't say I'm qualified to help, just qualified to care.

And maybe that's enough.

I know what it's like to struggle, but that doesn't mean I can tell you what to do.

Life is about the individual, and each journey is unique.

But we never are truly alone. At least, not for those of us who have someone.

Which is why all I can do is remind you that there's someone who cares.

It might not be a man in the sky, but a nerdy kid with a laptop.

And if that makes you feel better maybe I am worth something to this planet.

Maybe we are not alone.

Tell me.

As you sit there in the corner.

Was it really worth it?

Tell me.

As you dream.

Do you still see her?

Or is there nothing there.

Tell me.

Can you even hear me?

I shout, I scream, I beg.

Watching you writhe with self-destructive glee

Only to feel the reflection of a light now faded

Tell me.

Or should I tell her?

And in the back of your mind there is a whisper of hope

The ashes remnant of what was

And in the back of your mind you always knew where to find her

Tell me.

Do you think you were left alone?

That the sparkling stars or the mysterious moon were not to guide you?

And now, my friend.

Tell me.

Who told you?

Why

I suppose I have questions.

About who I am, why I am here. It's not enough for me to just know that everyone has questions, that everybody is stumbling around in this pointless game with no clue as to the why and wherefore. I need to know. I need to pick myself back up again, after having fallen so low, having sailed so high. Bursting into flames from flying to close to the sun, I lift my charred wings and shake the ash and dust from whence I came, to what I shall return.

I feel hopeless and yet hopeful. I know that the sun shines for us all, yet the warming rays must be sought out. I need to accept the help I have been given and continue on my path upward, out of the dark and gloomy mire of depression which has been my state of being for too long. I need to find a way home, to light and happiness.

If happiness is simply a state of mind, what is it that is keeping me away? I have everything a boy could need, friends, family and extended support. And yet all I feel like doing is breaking down and crying. About all the past and what could have been, about what I have gone through and what I am going through. And I feel that no one knows what it's like to be me, even though people know me better than I know myself and I imagine they have a good idea of what I'm going through.

I just don't know what I need to be happy. I'm always afraid, always running.

I suppose I need to speak to someone about the crazy events that led me to this place, but who would believe me? What do you do with an impossible theory that you can't let go of? How do you deal with the fact that either you or the universe is twisted beyond belief, or that you may have figured either of them out?

I suppose I don't know what to do.

But I suppose the answers will come to me.