New.

It's strange to see this. This is the primary school I went to in England for two years. This is where I started being weak and scared. I've wondered before about how everything would've turned out if we had stayed in Scotland. Maybe it wouldn't have been that different because I've always had Tori, and through Tori I found my girlfriend. I wonder if I would've done English at uni, or how I would be with food and all those things.

The next couple of weeks should be good.

Drug Drug Druggy

I've just watched a documentary, BBC's Horizons, about drug taking. It wasn't about illegal drugs, only prescription pills or those available in supermarkets or chemists. The whole programme was quite interesting, especially when you think about how clever a game of chance medicine actually is. I think this is what fascinates Margaret Atwood about the genetic side of science; that we can be in control of us and can and over-rule nature and its intentions. The scientists play. Anyway, intelligence and science are fascinating and necessary, but then there are the side effects and the risks which act as a 'fuck you' to all the scientists, chemists and participants who perform the trials, but we still think it's worth it to try, and we still think we have a right to complain when it all goes wrong. The thing that struck me the most about the programme was the woman who was, and still is, addicted to codeine. She takes over-the-counter pills containing codeine although the pills don't need to contain it as there isn't enough to make any significant difference to the pain relief, but there is enough to become addicted to it. All I could think about was how I used to mess about with Co-Codamol and Zapain by taking the strong ones casually; not even for pain, but for that fuzzy drowsy feeling that made everything seem better. These pills contain 30mg of codeine each. It is a wonderful feeling, even though it makes my nose itch. It makes sleep so much easier and every action, even though it becomes sluggish, becomes so much more enjoyable. The woman was taking 70 pills a day, obviously not containing that much codeine, but just enough to keep her going because she had built up such a tolerance to it that she needed more and more just to feel okay. It's just scary how we play. How the drug companies play, and how easy it is to mess up. It still baffles me that people are so bothered about staying alive and 'being okay' in the first place.


Most Poignant Moment award goes to:

Life Without Buildings- The Leanover

if i lose you
if i lose you
if i lose you
if i lose you
uh huh, uh huh, uh huh, mmm
if i, if i, if i, if i, if i
b-b-b-b-baby g g g, so g g g, you you you
if i lose you
if i lose you
uh huh, uh huh
if i lose you in the street
if i lose you in the street
if i lose you in the street at night
if i lose you in the street
if i lose, don't be sad
if i lose you in the street
if i lose you in the street, hey
if i lose you in the street
g g come here come here come
feel for you
kiss me, break my mind, close the door
black steel, break my mind, close the door
black steel, the sight of you falling out
the sight of you
if i lose you in the street, six
if i lose you in the street
i say, i say, i say, i say, i say, i say
wassup, wassup with you?
wassup with your friends?
high hills, high hills
oh i, m b v m b v m b v m b v m b v more m b v hi fi
i wanna see you
stand up, stand up, stand up
in the high hills
don't trade, don't don't i don't trade
don't trade, don't don't i don't trade
may i, may i walk with you?
may i walk with you? uh-oh
in the time takes to slide it back
in the time it changes, recorded at the automat
san francisco mixed with uh-oh
in the time takes to slide it back
in the time it changes shhhhh
emotional chi, emotional chi
come on baby, don't fuss
in the time takes to slide it back
say a what say a what eh eh eh eh eh eh eh
in the time takes to slide it back
questions say what
i like you mostly late at night
hold tight, hold tight, hold tight with a tight
budokan warp, budokan warp, we warp
b b b b b freestyle
i like you mostly late at night
break my mind, break my mind
in the time takes to slide it back
raining in my room, sweet and sleepy
wassup wassup
i can remember i can remember four
we can we can we can we can three
keep us together keep us together keep us together
in the time takes sliding back
in the time takes sliding back
in the time takes sliding back
forever
you can be me, swim
the face of you,
ok the face, we can take it back
i can take you the hills
days like television
days like television
d-d-d-d-d-days like television
face of you, the face of you
in the time takes to slide it back
in the time takes to slide it back
the face of you, for, that's all
should i wait for you s f l
should i wait for you?
should i wait for you?
come on, should i?
never forget who you are
there's no reason
d-d-d-d-d-d-d girls
there's no reason wassup
responsibility, free
in the time takes sliding back
in the time
responsibility, girls
d-d-d-d-d-d-d break
wassup
i don't trade
wassup
i don't trade
yeah yeah
i don't trade
wassup
contact, contact, just sweet remember contact
boom, contact, contact
that's the way, your first, your last, your only contact
uh-oh, uh-oh, contact
the first, the last, the only
bounce, twirl
i don't trade
i don't trade
yeah yeah
in the time takes sliding back
in the time takes sliding back
je danse, je suis
in the time takes sliding back
contact
je suis, je danse
d-d-d-d with a bit of freestyle
in the time takes sliding back
in the time takes sliding back
should i?
time takes sliding back
contact
he's the shaker, baby
he's the shaker, baby
he's the shaker, baby
he's the shaker, baby
contact
he's the shaker, baby
in the time takes sliding back
twelve o'clock
he's the shaker, baby
he's the shaker, baby
he's the shaker, baby
he's the shaker, baby
contact, swallow
twelve o'clock, one o'clock, no pretending
virginia, looking at it last night
virginia plain
recorded at the power plant, yeah
vacant together, vacant together, eyes vacant
he's the shaker, baby
he's the shaker, baby
he's the shaker, baby
he's the shaker, baby
he's the shaker, baby
he's the shaker, baby
he's the shaker, baby
no pretending, contact, you and me
contact, you and me
wassup, contact
he's the shaker
watch him, i can't stand the way, i don't like it
contact
he's the shaker, baby
he's the shaker, baby
i can't stand the way, i don't like it
contact
i don't like twelve o'clock either
contact
shake it, don't go vacant on me
don't go vacant on me
waiting, contact, shaking, baby
he's the shaker, baby
he's the shaker, baby
watch him, contact, shake it, baby
he's the shaker, baby
don't go vacant, baby
he's the shaker, baby
he's the shaker, baby
i can't stand the rain, i don't like it at all

Canongate

'The definitive collection of Bukowski's poetry, The Pleasures of the Damned, is being published in the UK for the first time. Bukowski is one of those poets who gets stolen regularly from bookshops, which just goes to show what a popular guy he is. So don't miss out on this 'best of the best' collection – but please don't steal it. Also available is the new edition of Howard Sounes's biography - Charles Bukowski: Locked in the Arms of a Crazy Life.'


YES!

This is the first Hogmanay I've spent alone. I hope it's the last. I miss spending it in Scotland with my gran, mum and dad. I even miss it years ago when my uncle would be there, but then he started inviting my brother to his house and not me, so I never saw him at new year. We'd get everything tidy, lie out a table of drinks and make loads of food and sweets. Then there'd be Chewin' The Fat and Still Game on tv, which we always looked forward to. Last year I spent it with my parents and our neighbours drinking Moscow mules. I just heard a firework.

So, in 2009 I graduated, went to some wonderful poetry readings, read at some myself, put together a zine with Chris, lived in four different houses, painted a bookshelf, made a wish at the Trevi Fountain, fell in love, saw Tori Amos a few times, started a postgraduate degree, read about 23 novels, wrote a few poems, felt happier than I ever though I could, did my last ever nightshift, found my favourite painting and realised who I am and what I want.

Did anyone see
as you were pushed
from being high up
and ignored and
thrown down by
weather to where
Man walks
where you now
stand, much more
interestingly, like
an eagle who
settles for
life without
height.

This anxiety has been ridiculous and this blog is turning teenage. I was going to write about hunger. I was going to write about how I lay in my bed and stared at the ceiling and let myself feel it. I can't write about these things without sounding like I'm whining.

Now I'm reading food poems.

It's been six years.
Please just stop.

Right now I am listening to Pink and Glitter. I am topless, wearing a hat and pyjama bottoms. I look ridiculous but my door is locked, there is some light from outside plus lamplight and I have chocolate soya milk. It's Saturday afternoon and I am feeling half healthy after a sleepless week. One of the best of my life. I saw Tori Amos in a tiny venue in London after sleeping on the street to get a wristband. I walked hand in hand with Rachel along Oxford Street to look at the Christmas lights. I laughed and ate onion rings. I was kissed. Warm. It was all so fucking magical and I can't describe it at all. And the SHOW. That will never ever be forgotten by anyone.
This morning I have been flicking through Anne Sexton's letters and gradually tidying my room. I need to hoover, but I have done most of the work and I'm happy with it. I would love to write a poem today. I would love to read a lot and listen to Tori all day, with the exception of one Steve Hackett song. I am going to have the kind of day I love to have.

I've been thinking. After watching What Is Beauty? on the BBC it's finally dawned on me the pointlessness of art and the actual beauty of real life. A lot of the time I prefer art to life, but art fails completely when it comes to trying to create life. We can't write people because we are people. So then art only succeeds when we're trying to get away from life, but can't truly achieve that either. We are us. We are here. We are all I and no matter what we're reading or what we're staring at that never changes.

Hands of the Priestess (Part One)

I've been meaning to write here for a while. Now I am here but I don't really have anything to say. I suppose today I should apply for more jobs because it looks like we'll lose our nightshift tomorrow. I want to do lots of press ups and sit ups and listen to music loud. I want to finish reading Saturday Night and Sunday Morning. I want to edit my poem. I want to sit next to my bookcase and gaze up at the top shelf which is full of poetry. I have a dissertation idea: Nabokov, Fowles and Dahl. Odd. I want to read some Walt Whitman. I feel like going Christmas shopping because I have given myself some money to play with. This year I have it all. There is no confusion in my family. No ambiguity over whether to buy for certain people. Mainly because we despise them for certain and they completely feel the same. I want to buy a present for little Mary. I have a beautiful girlfriend to buy for. I have people who aren't greedy.

Purple People

Tonight is one of those nights I wish I could write about but can never justify using words. I have never felt so loved and encouraged in so many ways. I feel engaged with my work and capable. Just capable. I am listening to Midwinter Graces on my headphones. I love it. I can't explain how much I love it. I feel up. These words don't know what I mean.

This year.

1. Lolly Willowes- Sylvia Townsend Warner

2. A Handful of Dust- Evelyn Waugh

3. A Scots Quair- Lewis Grassic Gibbon (A trilogy)

4. The Unbearable Lightness of Being- Milan Kundera

5. Coming Up For Air- George Orwell

6. The Hours- Michael Cunningham

7. Life is Elsewhere- Milan Kundera

8. The Collector- John Fowles

9. Lanark- Alasdair Gray

10. Wilderness Tips- Margaret Atwood

11. Boy Meets Girl- Ali Smith

12. Oryx and Crake- Margaret Atwood

13. A Million Little Pieces- James Frey

14. Speak of the Mearns- Lewis Grassic Gibbon

15. Lolita- Vladimir Nabokov

16. A History of the World in 10½ Chapters- Julian Barnes

17. Switch Bitch- Roald Dahl

18. Possession- A. S. Byatt

19. The Buddha of Suburbia- Hanif Kureishi

20. The Road Home- Rose Tremain

21. Blood on the Dining-Room Floor- Gertrude Stein

I just want him to sing me to sleep.