lewieeh

[lewieeh]

Happy 50th Birthday Kurt, or as they like to say, the very last rockstar

[lewieeh]

The Woodpile // Frightened Rabbit

[lewieeh]

I'm leaving behind getting left behind in 2016. I don't buy into new year/new me. But I refuse to suffer at the hands of other people. Coming out of situations limping and questioning myself. I want to be proud of who I am. I won't associate myself with people who dampen me, and spin me until I'm in knots. I'm going to get better and surround myself with better people but keep my trusted few close.

[lewieeh]

I'm fed up of being me I'm fed up of being ill I'm fed up of being the reason I'm fed up of being the cause I'm fed up of being the artist of my scars I'm fed up of being my own worst enemy I'm fed up of being other's worst enemy I'm fed up of being a victim I'm fed up of not knowing if I'm a victim I'm fed up of not knowing who I am I'm fed up of lists I'm fed up of making a joke out of myself to make things better

[lewieeh]

Romeo + Juliet (1996) dir. Baz Luhrmann

[lewieeh]

I'm fucking broken. Broken by cunts in nice people clothing. I don't mind if you're a cunt. Just don't dress up as a nice person. Don't pretend. I'm fully aware my presence will be getting looked at, and yes, this is for you. From another one of your corpses. From another person who fell for your nice person coat, and got swallowed, and caught and chewed up and spat out like the rest. Do you not get bored of being a spineless and patronising fake? This is also for everyone else that has taken the time to dismantle me and make me question myself. One day I'll be proud of who I am and you'll be a greyed out memory somewhere in the grey matter of my broken brain. But right now, you're a burning, bright red reminder of my failures. And I'm done with it. I'm done and I'm broken.

[lewieeh]

[lewieeh]

I know this is more important than anything before because you got into my head and not just my bed. This is more important because I care. This is more important because there is this feeling in my chest that I just can’t describe. It sort of hurts. It sort of feels warm. I can feel it behind my eyes like I want to cry and then I remember that I met you. And then I wonder if this is how Danny Zuko felt before Sandy rocked up to Rydell High on the first day back after Summer. Then I try and reevaluate my references, and try and be a bit cooler, but maybe you saw my self-perceived lame-ness and flaws and liked them, but maybe you didn’t. 

I’m hanging onto your every typed word, waiting to see three dots to show that you care, but maybe you don’t. Maybe you’re bored. But I don’t think you’re like that, but maybe I just don’t want you to be like that. 

So now, I hear your face in every song, and every song I’d show you, and every film I’d watch with you and tell you my favourite bits and end up talking more than watching, all the places I’d take you to. I’d show you all the things that made the thing standing in front of you. The thing you seem to like more than I dis-like myself. But then I remind myself that will never happen. 

But what did happen was that I sat and spoke to someone and connected with them, and there was that something, that intangible spark. For two nights I sat and got to know someone just speaking shit. 

And we shared something. I won’t forget that. Not for a long time.   

[lewieeh]

I recently read an article about a young man who completed suicide whilst watching porn on his phone, it's really stuck with me since and I've written this as a result.

You went for a drive in the car you loved like a girl But not like those weird dudes on tv, but she was a friend. She had a name, stains with stories, a way to start and an old air freshening tree you got the day you bought her. When you drove you weren't lonely You had somebody. You had her. Charging down the freeway Outrunning all that they had to say Or all that they didn't The lights blurred into streams Rivers of colour cleaning you Bathing in the blur The lines of light reminded you of the millennium falcon in hyper speed And watching films with dad, a four year old boy on his lap and in his arms. Safe. This cocoon of street lamps and speeding metal box made you feel the same. Safe. Like the family photo in the frame, hanging on the wall but in some way hanging in your head too. Safe. You didn't want to let them down, you didn't want to break the frame, tear it from the wall, as the walls of your head crumbled. So you were always "fine", or "just tired" or "pissed of with work" and you always mumbled. You went for a drive in the car that you loved like a girl On your favourite stretch you opened the sun roof To hear that blast, that sonic boom of air passing over you. The rain lashed in, pulling at your fringe and making clothes hug your body It was cold and you could feel your blood under you skin. You felt your heart pulling it out and in You wanted to feel alive just one more time You wanted to feel lost in a place you knew so well You wanted it to not feel like this forever Just you and her. Together forever. You felt it in your pocket and you reached for your phone. Tapping out a familiar dance on the screen, fingers moving in rehearsed routine, a ritual of self loathing and self love all at the same time. And as you loosen grip of the wheel you grip tight to you Then she's moaning and screaming and sucking a fucking and taking and cumming and you're gripping tighter and pulling faster and the lights are getting blurrier and the winds getting louder and blasting faster, and she's fucking you like you've never been fucked before, and your foots close to the floor and you're feeling more lost than ever before. Shaking from the cold, your teeth clatter out a drumming in your head, your muscles tighten and contract, you start to spasm into an open mouth moaning orgasm, your hand blurred like the lights, then something smashes and she's flipped on her head and you're both screaming and everything is leaving and you're cutting through glass rolling, flying, still fucking and she's still screaming. You're in terminal velocity and she loves it You're in terminal velocity and you love it The family frame is gone but you're in hyper speed flying like Han Solo, and for once you're the hero. You were in terminal velocity and you loved it It was you and her. Together forever.

[lewieeh]

[lewieeh]

I write for me 

I write for a kid like me 

I write for the future me to laugh at, cringe at, think ‘actually, that bit was alright’ at

I write to remember 

I write to forget 

I write to get lost 

I write to get rid 

I write to find something 

I write to get better 

I write for the sake of writing 

I write to fill the page, the internet, the air with a piece of me 

I write to leave a mark 

I write to say IM SORRY 

I write to say I CARE 

I write to say I LOVE YOU 

I write to say I MISS YOU 

I write to say I’M NOT OKAY 

I write to say FUCK YOU 

I write to feel better 

I write because I can 

I write because I want to 

I write to tell a story 

I write to tell yours 

I write to tell mine 

I write because I want to leave a mark, I want my voice to be heard, because I want someone to realise someone felt like they do right now, because I want them to know they’re not alone. 

I write because words have so often reached out to me and pulled me up. 

I write because I love it. I love it when I can feel the words come from my heart up through my head down my arms and through my hands. Then when you see it in front of you and you know that it’s come from you and anyone else could have written it, but they didn’t, you did. It’s yours. But it’s also everyone else’s. You’ve given it over. 

I write to give my words. 

[lewieeh]

So this is is it, I’ve put a beat on and I’m not letting my hands leave the keyboard. Apologies fpr typos now, no time to correct. 

SO yeah, now is the time to stream this and no I wont meme  this, but if I did you might listen, you might see as you scroll and scroll and scroll and scroll and scroll, all we do is flick up what if we looked up. opened up, poured lut wjhat is insid,  everything we keep secret, everything we hid, everything we don’t tell. we share it all to an LCD screen byt we don’t share nothing, it’s nothing, it means fuck all, let’s actually say somethin, let’s actually do something, let’s actually feel something. let\s react to lie we don\t belive, let’s stand up and be counted, as the lies they have mounted and the bodies they have mounted, as the lies they have sprouted, and we’ve all tweeted about it. hashtag this, hashtag truth, hashtag life hashtag fuck this, lets live a fucking hashtag, let’s give more than a 140 characters. it takes more than 140 characters to change the worl, it just takes character. tragedy, tragedy, trgedy, tragedy again, another newspwaper front cover and lie, another feeling we keep undercover, a constant search for some kind of lover, a feeling we can’t mother or understand just someone to be there and keep us real. let’s be real with everyone let’s not judge people fr being real lets get rid of the online perfect filter hashtag life I don’t like this, i refuse to keep following this, another view, another mention, this is real life in some form suspension, and i don’t think i’m an exception, i’m psoting this online hoping someone will notice me, cause i can’t just be i want to connect, i want to be connected i take to the internet to find people and music and love and sex and love and sex and people and sex and all the things the internet is for and porn and porn and porn and porn and pornd and porn and art and porn and the things internet is for and evrything we read to make ourselve feel liek a better person i read the gaurdian so im better and im clever and im enriched are we fuck we are the same poeple as five minutes ago we just 5 minutes reading an article that didnt connect to us.  i jsut looked at the pictures and hoped for the best. here we go though, this has been nothing i just spit som shit that wasnt even cogent, and was meant for nothing more than it is 

[lewieeh]

[lewieeh]

Hasn’t Mark Hamill been playing The Joker for 20 shitzillion years? How come he never got “consumed” by the role?

[lewieeh]

Dan Harmon is a genius for turning for whatever this feeling is into pure gold. Where as I just sit here and write shit tumblr posts.

[lewieeh]

If I was any good, I could turn this into a Drake song.

[lewieeh]

Sometimes all you need