I believe that we will win, I believe that we will win, I believe that we will win

03/09/2017 § Leave a comment

We all need to get out of ourselves or get into ourselves and that might mean yoga or meditation or orgasms or having the shit beaten out of you or beating the shit out of someone or taking LSD or chanting or exercising to the point of utter exhaustion or a thousand other things. Whatever method works for you.
 
I believe in energy channels in the body and I believe in the utter power of conversations and/or physical intimacy to connect with a person. I believe creativity to be as important as logic and belief to be as important as fact and kindness to be as important as intelligence.

I believe humour is the most valuable trait in a person but that humourless people are not worthless. I believe that all gods are real and that god is a ridiculous concept and that religion is more than just stupidity.

I believe that true love is just friendship multiplied by a thousand and that obsession is necessary and I need to crawl and that I can never be with a man who doesn’t know how to be playful and won’t fly me like a aeroplane. I believe we all should be vegans and I believe shrimp wrap is truly deliciously unbeatable and I believe great sex is the best experience we can have on this planet.

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Manchester

24/05/2017 § 1 Comment

This is the place

In the north-west of England. It’s ace, it’s the best

And the songs that we sing from the stands, from our bands

Set the whole planet shaking.

Our inventions are legends. There’s nowt we can’t make, and so we make brilliant music

We make brilliant bands

We make goals that make souls leap from seats in the stands

And we make things from steel

And we make things from cotton

And we make people laugh, take the mick sommat rotten

And we make you at home

And we make you feel welcome and we make summat happen

And we can’t seem to help it

And if you’re looking from history, then yeah we’ve a wealth

But the Manchester way is to make it yourself.

And make us a record, a new number one

And make us a brew while you’re up, love, go on

And make us feel proud that you’re winning the league

And make us sing louder and make us believe that this is the place that has helped shape the world

And this is the place where a Manchester girl named Emmeline Pankhurst from the streets of Moss Side led a suffragette city with sisterhood pride

And this is the place with appliance of science, we’re on it, atomic, we struck with defiance, and in the face of a challenge, we always stand tall, Mancunians, in union, delievered it all

Such as housing and libraries and health, education and unions and co-ops and first railway stations

So we’re sorry, bear with us, we invented commuters. But we hope you forgive us, we invented computers.

And this is the place Henry Rice strolled with rolls, and we’ve rocked and we’ve rolled with our own northern soul

And so this is the place to do business then dance, where go-getters and goal-setters know they’ve a chance

And this is the place where we first played as kids. And me mum, lived and died here, she loved it, she did.

And this is the place where our folks came to work, where they struggled in puddles, they hurt in the dirt and they built us a city, they built us these towns and they coughed on the cobbles to the deafening sound to the steaming machines and the screaming of slaves, they were scheming for greatness, they dreamed to their graves.

And they left us a spirit. They left us a vibe. The Mancunian way to survive and to thrive and to work and to build, to connect, and create and greater ― Manchester’s greatness is keeping it great.

And so this is the place now with kids of our own. Some are born here, some drawn here, but all call it home.

And they’ve covered the cobbles, but they’ll never defeat, all the dreamers and schemers who still teem through these streets.

Because this is a place that has been through some hard times: oppressions, recessions, depressions, and dark times.

But we keep fighting back with greater Manchester spirit. Northern grit, northern wit, and greater Manchester’s lyrics.

And these hard times again, in these streets of our city, but we won’t take defeat and we don’t want your pity.

Because this is a place where we stand strong together, with a smile on our face, greater Manchester forever.

And we’ve got this place where a team with a dream can get funding and something to help with a scheme.

Because this is a place that understands your grand plans. We don’t do “no can do” we just stress “yes we can”

Forever Manchester’s a charity for people round here, you can fundraise, donate, you can be a volunteer. You can live local, give local, we can honestly say, we do charity different, that Mancunian way.

And we fund local kids, and we fund local teams. We support local dreamers to work for their dreams. We support local groups and the great work they do. So can you help us. help local people like you?

Because this is the place in our hearts, in our homes, because this is the place that’s a part of our bones.

Because greater Manchester gives us such strength from the fact that this is the place, we should give something back.

Always remember, never forget, forever Manchester.

Tony Walsh, 2017

The Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost

21/05/2017 § Leave a comment

Submitting to men we love is the closest us atheist submissives will ever get to worshipping god.

Synchronise

21/05/2017 § Leave a comment

I am walking atop a mountain of grey slate.
I imagine the world turning and the mountain atop of me
a million tons of rock I would be pressed into a pebble
less than a pebble a speck of dust
my mother could hold and call -my name-
we are walking through mist and I am told
this is not mist this is cloud we walk through
clouds aeroplanes and birds fly through
we don’t belong here
they used to believe heaven was in these clouds
and I am looking for a golden harp
maybe it is here because
notes are plucked by cloud water
trickling through rocks

Catholic Guilt

21/05/2017 § Leave a comment

Written around 2012

Church. It’s a loaded word which regardless of your religious beliefs usually invokes an instant emotional response.

How did you feel when I said it? When I hear the word church there’s a moment I become still like an animal that senses danger,  I take a small sharp breath in and gather mental weapons and defences. There’s anger, and sadness, and respect, awe for the capacity of the human mind and worship for the idea of worship. I am obsessed with obsession.

A church is where you’re supposed to go to find peace. It’s where you’re supposed to go to have a revelation. It’s where you’re supposed to go to save your soul or have it saved by something else- depending on how lazy you are.

It’s a given, but I haven’t found any of these things and besides I don’t take givens I give new questions for taking. It’s why I used to argue with my teachers so much. It’s why I left the monastery when my questions received a music box repetition of ‘it’s tradition, it’s tradition’.

So take my questions because the things I write aren’t resolutions they are strings of ‘huhs?’ and ‘idunnos’. Because I have no fucking clue and neither do you and often I feel my mind is finite and if I don’t write, it will gain more and more pressure until gooey words trickle out my ears.

My heart is not as finite. On good days it is infinite but right now it is sick and can’t process the way it should. I need to heal it so please, take my questions, it’s a way of trying to heal:

What is my soul? How do I betray it? How do I get it back once betrayed? Someone give me holy water because I need to flush out my sickness. Someone call a doctor because I can’t identify why my heart is sick. I am breaking the ten commandments and practicing the seven deadly sins but I don’t see what I do as wrong. What if, you are drinking holy water from dirty cups, I am a dirty cup, constantly drinking myself with words. What if you are pumping water into already shrivelled cells. My cells are shrivelled.

I’ve seen people come back from such evil and sickness it’s a miracle they can still see the grass and the sky through goggles of blood. How do you know if you are beyond forgiveness and redemption? I’m not saying I’m not worthy of these things, I’m saying I’m not capable.

It’s a beautiful sunny Saturday morning and I’m cycling to the supermarket with a big smile on my face

20/05/2017 § Leave a comment

I’m always here to help
I’m always here to hold
with a razor tongue and a razor burn
I’m always a home one day you’ll learn
survival instinct too strong in me
have to consciously fuck myself up
consciously get these bruises
consciously get these cuts
consciously foot in mouth
consciously down to fuck
I can’t break my mould
I can’t break my mould
I crave emotional masochism like most crave to hold
I crave to be hurt
I crave to be held
every day a sugar rush
every day a sugar touch
what did I do to deserve this luck
how can it be that I’ve earned this luck
I’m an emotional masochist I’m not a pacifist
when I think of you hurting me my cunt pulses
when I think of you happy with another it brings me nothing but joy
I don’t want to be more than a toy

Raw and Bloody

20/05/2017 § Leave a comment

Seeing him was a jolt through every part of my body. I am grateful our wounds never fully heal. I’m grateful to still love, and be as sensitive as ever. I am as raw and emotionally driven as I am practical and I know I will care about him for many years to come.

But I had and have enough respect and self knowledge to know that I was a round hole and he a square peg. And there’s not enough effort in the world on anyone’s part that could have made that right.

That cuts to the core of everything. The square, the circle. The triangle and the pentagon. Any two shapes you like.

I was reminded last weekend of my inability to help him hurting because I was the cause of the pain. I was reminded of this because I was the one hurting, and there was no-one who could help me. All I could do was wait and wait.

The cause of this was the worst (and one of the only) comedowns I have ever had and all I could do was panic and panic all Sunday afternoon and Monday. Tuesday was better, panic transformed into sadness (hello #suicidetuesday) and that was manageable. And then Wednesday it was over, the fog had lifted and I was happy and calm. I will never under-appreciate my mind for its naturally peaceful joy ever again.

I spent the working week at home and on Monday morning, halfway through the suffering, my dad picked me up from the train station.

He cried when we got in the car, short breath and panicked sobs. The emotions of seeing me for the first time in a good few months overcoming him. I – mid comedown and trying (mostly successfully) to hide the detachment, misery and anxiety overwhelming me – could not figure out how to respond although normally this is my forte. He, someone who has always been the most walled up blokey bloke you could ever meet, has no walls anymore. Since the day of the accident he is raw and suffering. What can I do to make it better? Nothing I know of or can figure out. I held his hand and I hugged him and I chatted about mundane things the best I could.

What a bloody weekend, I’ll look back and laugh at it for a while to come.

The man I went out with Saturday night, the one I got high with, I really like and it makes me feel needy and helpless.  There’s nothing like limerence to make you feel out of control. I am trying to focus on myself and hoping it subsides.

I will always pick love as a priority above all else in my life.

I love people, I LOVE people, I love PEOPLE.