Monday, 9 August 2010

50. A list

'the soul can wait'
a man sitting at his balcony at 100 degrees
i don't know how hot 100 degrees is
but in the movies when they say
100 degrees
they mean it's fucking hot
'the soul can wait'
a man sitting at his balcony in such heat is depressing me
warm beer is depressing me
but cold beer is depressing me too
friends they are depressing me
music is depressing me
the sound is depressing me
quiet is depressing me
heat depressing me
cigarette burns depressing me
TV on depressing me
awake depressing me
asleep depressing me
dreams depressing me
shoes depressing me
people depressing me
family depressing me
smog depressing me
news dperessing me
pills depressing me
head confused depressing me
pets depressing me
panic depressing me
myself is depressing me
sex depressing me
food depressing me
nothing depressing me
trying depressing me
books depressing me
time is depressing me
watery eyes depressing me
night dpressing me

it all feels like death
it all feels like the end

there's nothing
and there's nothing that can fix it

This is giving up but i don't care
defeat makes me shrug
i don't want to win
i don't want to be strong
'the soul can wait'

deafeat makes me win
weak makes me strong
but right now i don't really care

This is not a poem
This is me, giving up
I got a big scream inside
a big scream
when will it come out

tell me your demons
and i'll tell you mine
are screams a demon?
are there screams in the demon?
does the demon scream?

'and the soul can wait'
'the soul can wait'

But, then. as scarlet o'hara said:
tomorrow is another day.
And the soul can wait.
'will be fine'


  1. It's living that moment eternally. Stuck on a pin like a bug. The total relentless horror of the now. I only have to visit Dogboy, I'd hate to have to live there. I always feel wierd when I tell you how well you write 'cause I feel what you say is real. It's like saying well done for having cancer! But you do write well. I'm sure it's a skill you'll use to your advantage. Yours truly Wolf Boy.

  2. Steppenwolf, wolf boy, my man, i will reply as i shpuld to your comment later, but right now dogboy is trying to keep his screams and cries inside, even though dogboy doesn't cry, not really, but right now it he really wants to but can't.I will come back to you more coherent, but right now all i can say is thank you.

    all the love and respect

  3. Like I just walked in on some furries co-counselling session or something? What can I be huh - skinned rabbit boy?

    it doesn't read like giving up, but what do i know? i could reel off some of my own tactics - but that's just annoying. so i'll tell you a story instead - like a cheerful bedtime story

    I got this phone call from someone this morning - not a friend - just someone I know and take advantage of occassionally - they probably see it as the other way round, but they're wrong, obviously.

    He said: Hi Meesh, can you come over? his voice sounds kinda weird and a long way off.
    Me: What - like now? i'm kind of ... i look around the room for inspiration ... busy? uh - decorating?
    Him: Yes now - please - it's really important.
    Me: ( the noise it makes when you bite your fingernails)
    Him: I'll give you twenty quid - please?
    Me:(kind of laughing) twenty quid is just insulting
    Him: I didn't mean - not for anything like that - just come over and i'll give it to you, it's all I've got in the house ...
    Me: oh all right - whatever
    Him: (a noise like releasing breath in relief) Thank you - oh - when you get here you'll have to break in - come through the back and you can reach the key through the cat-flap - ok?
    Me: yeah yeah ( I've done this before - I don't think he knows that though. I don't ask why I need to do this - maybe he has some kind of intruder fetish he wants to indulge?)

    So I get to his house and climb over the gate, squirm my arm through the cat flap, turn the key and let myself in. It's eerie quiet in there and my voice sounds weird when i call his name.
    "up here" he shouts back, it's sort of distant.

    So I climb these two flights of stairs - and i find him chained to his heavy, victorian style radiator in the little bathroom off the bedroom. He's wearing this piss-soaked white underwear and the smell in there is unbelievable. I notice his phone is on the floor in front of him - he must've dialled it with his toes or something.
    "You want me to untie you?" I say from the doorway - I don't really wanna go any nearer.
    "Oh no" he says - and he's not even fucking embarrassed - " I just need you to feed the cats - they're going mad poor things"
    He tells me there's a note in his wallet, in his trouser pocket in the bedroom - I toy with the idea of taking his cards but, you know, i'm kind of sweet really.

    Does that help any? I dunno - it made me smile. It's pretty much a secret so sshh, ok?


  4. Hey Skinned Rabbit Boy!
    You should have taken his cards, LOL, oh no, but i know you are a sweet guy.Your story is amazing and would indeed help me go to sleep with a big warm smile on ma face, but it's morning now, another day even though the same. I really wouldn't mind of u reeled off some of your own tactics/coping devices, then it could be a whole furries' therapy group lolol
    Thank yo my friend!

  5. Steppenwolf, I told ya once i get over myself ii will write back and more properly, so I guess this is it now. Always grateful of your kind words, depression is a real thing for me, maybe the only thing in ma life i'm not faking. But i got diagnosed with anxiety disorder instead. maybe i should have kicked that stupid cow's face in, but alas, i let her be the master of me and tell me i've screwed up my life severely, as if that was my problem. anyways. Obviously you're having your own issues with depression, and i can't really explain it, lately is like living in an alternative world, everything tainted by this...combination of madness and sadness, and if i knew how to write i'd probably find the right words to describe it,'s as if,in this world, everything has lost its sheen and colour, its meaning, its sound, its purpose, its smells. everything and everyone feels removed, or I am the one that has removed entirely from the world. Makes any sense?

    respect, my friend.

  6. As a better wordsmith than me said,

    "Do not go gentle into that good night,

    Old age should burn and rave at close of day;

    Rage, rage against the dying of the light."

    All of you are young, imagine being old, decrepit and depressed.

    Now that's enough to piss anyone off.

    Go out in the sunshine, run around, take drugs, fuck, it all helps.

    DB try and do without the perscription shit.

    Skinned Rabbit Boy, good boy for not ripping your client off.

    I had a boy try to do that to me, I nearly took his head off with a fire extinguisher.

    DB you writing is very good and like a primal scream you should let it all out.

    One of my bon mots is " When I go, I'm taking some fucker with me."

    It's whatever keeps you going really.

  7. kinkynik

    this is some true wisdom you're sharing with all disillusioned depressed furries us here. Yes, yes, you're right, even tho i do feel old and decrepit as we speak. Maybe it's the heat. Maybe i'm really growing old. Lol, i like your motto, 'i'm going down but ur going down with me' sort of thing. please, do drop by more often.
    Thank you, my friend