2 Days Left

And now it's 2 days til I leave the country and I don't know when I'll be coming back and it feels like I'm leaving home though I don't have a home and all I want to do is go home and not have to worry or be thinking these things.

Excerts from my diary


Heart breaking heart ripping heart bleeding as my chest caves in and I start to choke on my own tongue and I can't even finish the sentence that's making me cry. Four little words and I stutter and splutter them into my sleeve. I Miss My Dad.

It was the boats that did it this time. I was looking at a couple of pictures of some rusty old boats on the internet and there I was again without a father. Without My father. My dad.

Everybody's got a dad except me. And when I tell them I don't they look at me like they're trying to imagine but can't and their eyes are full of pity but not half as much as they would be if they knew what it was like.

I feel so incredibly alone and displaced with nowhere to turn and no place to be for nowhere is mine and no place to call home.


Trapped In Structure

My words are caught in meter and rhyme
At one it frees at two entwines
My heart to logic form and prose
I start to loathe the moon


53° 19' N; 60° 25' W

Mary how I miss you so,
Even now, as the crew hasten to tie down the rigging I sit here in my cabin dreaming of you.

The wind is kicking up a storm darling and I fear the worst.
We are somewhere off the coast of the Americas, though where I do not know, as the rain makes it hard to see the bow of the boat let alone the land beyond.

The fate of this voyage appears sealed beyond measure, and the morale of the crew is all but spent. We ran out of fruit two months ago, the meat lasted a few weeks longer, and the water is running as thin as our blood. Just last night Earnest Rogers, your dear old friend from Corke, was swept overboard and into the reckless night.

How this letter will reach you I do not know, but to not write it would be a crime.

I am now eye-steady with the dark blue depths. I am sure of their muderous intent.
It is too late in the day now for lady luck to guide our way.

No piece of land is worth the tears in your eyes when you hear of my fate at sea.

I am lost and I know it. Mary, I love you.
I wish to god I had only listened when you warned me from this voyage.

I will be yours until the end of time,
O. S. Blake



Walked past a hooker this morning clutching a can of cider like it was the baby she just aborted
Hackney hasn't changed all that much



If when your lover leaves it leaves you
back where you started, staring into
space or the four white walls with the
same blank face overcome by it all, do you
find yourself thinking of cliffs and boats
sinking or jumping to break your long fall



I don't want anything.
I just don't want anything.
I'm so tired of it all
All the tasks it takes to keep me alive
All the feelings I'm supposed to be having
All thoughts for the future -and that is where I lose my nerve
At the thought of these thoughts
Like a plague at my heels
Chasing me the rest of my life.
All I want is to be left in peace
And not have to do it all over again, ever again.