Some Sort of Cry for Help Perhaps.


How has a girl got me so fucked up? I think I need to grow a pair. Of balls. A pair of balls. I need to grow a pair of balls. And go gay. But going gay wont help me . It would be the same again, just with more dude. I cried on a train today. I fucking cried! Like a little bloody human girl. I’m not even sure why. Well, I do know as it goes. it’s just fucking pathetic. Well, it isn’t pathetic, but I feel pathetic. I have a strong feeling that a human with boobs doesn’t like me like I like them and it made me cry. God-damn it! It wouldn’t have been so embarrassing if I hadn’t let everyone know by posting it on the internet though. This is my own fault but I thought you all should know. I think it might be a cry for help but I’m not sure. I”m probably crying for help. Not even help. Just a hug. I’m crying for a hug. I don’t even make sense to myself anymore. I have properly broken. There’s probably smoke coming out of my ears and shit. Crazy.

There isn’t smoke coming out of my ears. It’s just a nice idea. But back to my moan. How do you beat this feeling? What the heck am I suppose to do? The silliest thing is that I am pretty much depressed on an assumption of something that might happen tomorrow. It probably will though. My day will almost definitely be not bad and then it will take a horrific turn at about 5.30pm. Then I will be up all night doing a moan and a cry, then I must go to Manchester to do a gig which will probably suck because of all the moans and cries and then I think I’m going to go back to Wales for a few weeks, do some more moans and cries then wonder why the fuck I’ve gone back home because it’s an awful town and probably the worst place to go when you’re depressed.

Now I’m starting to hate myself because of my moaning. This is a horrible catch-22. I’m moaning about my own moaning. For fucks sake! I’ve been moaning for four-hundred words. That’s a bit much, eh? But there we go. At least I don’t have to read it. Well, I do as it goes. I gotta give it a quick proof-read to make sure it’s all good for you peeps to enjoy. If you even enjoy it at all. Which you probably don’t. Because I suck. And moan too much.

I want a hug.

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