She sent the lion on its way.

She loves the way his poetry flows
sounds she lost in touch and now create
etchy jargon crossed with self delinquance.
feelings swept under carpet,
shes here, heart clean
as she promised, locked away
in the perfect box

but touch,
touch. separated from
body she loves.

At amber eyes she cares to stare
for fiery ginger hair.
Playing with memories she fucks
clawing at frustration
not even the sea but land
thrust her in the wrong direction.

She needs to care
she needs to care
or else she might die.

So her hands flicker past each fingertip
and each heart she holds, she holds it close


His picture hidden in the perfect book.
praying that its pages will never grow apart.

Loans

I warn all this is a rant! It is Huge, dire and Angry.

Ok I admit, I live in disorder and chaos. I have stacks of paper all over my room, I don't what the papers are for. All I know is; that it's probably not a good idea to throw them out.
One of these lovely papers is my student loan letter telling me about 3 months ago that I can apply for my new loan. Which I really hate having already, being vaguly aware of the fact I am not even twenty one and am over 9000 in debt is a painful reality.
Also knowing that I probably wont ever get a good enough job to pay it off another painful thought. It has no date of the final deadline on it which means that a black mark is not put in my diary.

I have missed the deadline.
But its ok right? So has about another 300,000 students across the county.
I go to log on.

It asks me for information and passwords that I have not used for over a YEAR. My childhod superhero? Yeah its the same one but however I probably spelt it differently than I do now, did I use a capital? Did I put numbers in it to be UBER secure? Probably, I don't know, or really care
I go onto the dire website once a year, and its horrible.
Its latest news is in wrong order (Oldest at the top?) telling me at the very bottom of a list of wonderful changes to a site that I can no longer apply online.

Whooooooooo, shame I was never actually sent the form. So being used to the questions a computer buff would ask: I ask myself, or my laptop depending on how you look at talking aloud: "Can I download the form off the internet? I can print it off and fill it out presto simplicity yay!"
NO, NO you can't: 404 this page does not exist blah blah.

I want to smash my computer! My form is late. My fault entirely, but there is no such thing as simplicity. Why? Why can I not get the form off the net? Oh and I have forgotten to mention this wonderfully designed website keeps loging me out! 3 questions every time just to get back in!

If I had tried to fill out the bloody thing on time
I would have given up already, pretending it doesn't exist.

Oh look a "contact us number". Buisness, nevermind, its important.
A MACHINE: Fuck you machine! Fuck you! I'm paying to talk to a machine, a machine!

screw you guys! like I want the bloody loan any who
WAIT no... I need it. Yay for the debt filled generation!

Politics

I would love to be more involed with politics, and have spent many an hour debating with fellow students views and ideas:
As far as I can tell: The majority of people, even if views are different, feel icolated from politics.
I click on website after website, trying to find some truth, but find nothing more than empty promises like

"I will make the green light on traffic lights stay on for longer."

Well yeah ya could, but very few people realise that if the greens on longer, the red lights on the joining roads have to be on longer to.

The statement is void, and the politician is a duche.

I want to know more, I hate running round in circles in a hazy mist of nothingness, with no Idea if I am actually standing for what I believe in.
Im just left with a fourteen year olds reaction: "Screw this im gonna go get pissed"

How can we be expected to conform to a society, if we have no idea what stands for what?

I keep trying to work out where I stand politically, Devlving into current affairs, new policies etc. I am just left with conclusion that the world is all wrong and there is nothing I can do about it because I don't understand it.

To add salt to my wounds as a young Idealist; we have the war in Iraq. I Marched, I cared, I tried and was left feeling like young kid feels after the realisation that those foul carrots you had to devour don't make you see in dark after eating them.

YES the war was about oil
YES you lied
YES I knew it
YES its true that

After the statue was pulled down and I saw so many happy people, I questioned my belief that the war was wrong. Just like I still ate those bloody carrots knowing deep down that I would never see in the dark.

I have so much Hatred for the society I live in and it exists because I want to care, I want to be involved but every time I try my head hurts and a dummy seems to be shoved into my talking mouth.

Maybe I should run away to Tepi Vally

Something or other...

On bad judgment of a group of indiduals:

“the members of the crowd are too conscious of the opinions of others and begin emulating each other and conforming rather than independent cognition.”

This I find interesting, because it relates to me at the moment I cannot be bothered to explain why but however it does mean personal oppinon is important.


Quote: Surowiecki

Casper says:

Read The Profit!

We Love Boris

I found this on Facebook: Boris manifesto watch: The wishy washy unmesurables.

"The irony! Our predecessors fought and died for democracy, and now that we can choose who leads us, we do it as if it were a personality contest or reality television show."

Rayyan Mirza

I talked to pigeon about this a few months ago, I wanted to try and get a random person to run for student president. We would litter the town with their face. Get the out at every BIG event in town to promote themselves and see if they win.
I say themselves because, the idea is that they will have no policies or anything other than empty promises on how to make Aberystwyth a better place.
I guessed that they would win the election.
I believe that we only vote for faces that we see the most.
I would love to do this social experiment. I am just far to busy not doing what I'm supposed to be doing.

http://www.facebook.com/topic.php?uid=16137761282&topic=4321

The Author

REMEMBER:
When I write I lie, even elements of truth are embellished, exaggerated and made perfect.
Never trust an author when they talk about their own work. They like confusion.
I write this for two reasons:

1) I like to lie, about rubbish. Stuff that effects no one. An example of one of my many lies:

One of my fellow students mothers has really really long finger nails always painted bright colours. It was the days before everyone had a computer or Mobile so I'm sure she hadn't realised the impracticality of growing them that long. Apart from maybe trying to turn the pages of a book, if she ever tried to read. She often helped on school trips, I remember clearly once in the changing rooms while we where getting changed for swimming. We all heard a sound that sounded like something getting caught on material. One of these bright red nails flew across the room and landed under a bench on the otherside. Thus proving to the world that they where not real.

What ACTUALLY HAPPENED.:
I just saw a fingernail under the bench, the next day I saw her with one short nail and made the rest up.
I told my mother this story, she approached her and I got found out, however no one ever believed those nails where real ever again.

2) I'm sick to death of people relating stuff back to the authors past. I feel sorry for many of the authors that I have studied where there past is looked into more than what they have produced. Lies have to have some truth in them otherwise no one will believe them.

So what if Conrad lived in the Congo's and was part of colonisation his "Heart of Darkness" is not a documentary of what it is really like, its a story with metaphors and similes and amazing imagery yes I admit that there is something to be learnt from the story. But its not: Is Marlow Conrad? The questions that should be asked: What was moving about the story? What have YOU learnt?
There is never a definite universal answer to a text especially one like "Heart of Darkness"
Although I have to say it happens to female writers more than men such as Woolf and Plath.

Basically before I went on a tangent what I'm trying to say is:

Truth is not the story, truth helps tell the story.

I say truth as in elements of truth, for example: authors' experiences, recognisable places or people that are so often found in literature.