Where The Circle Ends

No one even lives here
We're too busy crashing our cars every morning in the same house
Paving the same roads
Unwilling to walk them
And even when we extend ourselves, its only to be included
In a moment that stands still
And so often we don't struggle to improve conditions
We struggle for the right to say "We improved conditions"
And so often we form communities
Only to use them as exclusionary devices
And we forget that somewhere man is beside himself with grief
And somewhere people are calling for teachers
And no one's answering

Hello Mister

Again I feel I'm juggling too many things at once. I'm teaching myself how to play guitar, trying to get to the gym 3 days a week, working on photos I have been putting off for ages along with new ones I keep taking, working on school work outside of office hours so I can get a bit ahead with planning and I just started an online TEFL course which has already started chewing up more of my time! A little while back I started to write something as well but I don't really know where that's going at all...

Also a new friend of mine, who I feel I am just starting to get to know, will be leaving Medan soon so I've been spending most of my weekends with her. I'm not complaining about her taking up my time at all. If I did I would probably get a few angry messages back saying "bloody this and bloody that you bloody twat."

Another busy weekend coming up and I know for sure at least one day will be a complete write off... I'll just have to hope for some magical Indonesian holiday to appear, like they do, so I can have some extra time to knock a few things out the way.

Come on indo holiday!!

127 Hours

My favourite director does it again.

Big City Dream

The last words I heard before I slammed the door...
"You gotta be humble in this life."
But my shoulders tell me that ain't right
as I race down the stairs and step out into the night.
I scan the city skyline...
smoking like a neon mechanized Christ.
So I walk with intent towards my salvation.
Thoughts rise and fall... sharpen my mind into a razor.
I try to see into the future.
I try to sense impending danger.
There's a bum on the corner with his shopping cart filled with plastic bags.
Somedays I would wonder how he got there.
Not tonight, I don't care.
Steam rising up from the gutter...
shining in the headlights of passing cars.
The sound of distant sirens drowned out by thick concrete walls.
My state of mind makes me all alone on this platform in this subway station.
If you can make it here...
no one will care.
I see faces cut by lines of weariness.
Intelligent eyes hardened by cynical resignation.
I catch my reflection...
my face is changing too.
I find the reasons while I suffer just like all the others.
Up the stairs into a hazy dream.
I hear the neons scream.
I hear the billboards scream.
Fields of concrete stretching infinitely.
The industries that made us free...
with money to spend on all the wrong things.
I get down on my knees. The crowds rush past me.
I pray to no one and I feel nothing.

TRON TRON TRON

The colours are a bit off in this but you'll have to deal with it.