How Soon Is Now?

This publication project that I'm doing, the plan is to illustrate the things I have written using typography and collage. At the moment I'd say I was going through a creative block, I'm probably exaggerating but I don't feel enthusiastic about anything. I mean, I've accomplished many things in the past few years and I've done well for myself even if I think that I haven't.
I'm not sure what instigated this 'block', but constantly being told about family quarrels isn't helping matters. Another thing that preys on my my mind is that I'm never good enough, this is stupid because it is pointless worrying about such things; things always work out.
I think what seems to have fucked me up more than anything is the F-word (family). Right now there are things going on back "Home" and which I'm told about, it may sound heartless and cold but I really couldn't care less. I have my own life and problems to think about, whatever is going on there has nothing to with me; I'm not a part of it.
As soon as I finish my course I doubt I'll speak to my Mum again, the reason why I have to do so is because I need forms signing. That sounds really bad, doesn't it? It's ridiculous when you aren't classed as independent and you're living away from home receiving no support whatsoever from your Mum.

If I Was a Drug Dealer #3

I'd hand out business cards laced with LSD. I'd dispense them from my mouth like a human PEZ.

Coming to Terms, My Own Terms

I've never been honest about my last relationship and not many people know about it. When it came to an end all I remember is this...
Breaking down on the kitchen floor and eating my body weight in Viennetta. 6 months went by like a blur and here I am.
I'm Adam Lee Jones and that was my story.

If I Was a Drug Dealer #2

If I was a drug dealer and somebody asked for something that I didn't have in stock, I would say in a robot voice "Does not compute". Failing that, and if I was a bit short for the rent I would bob them a couple of Lemsips.

If I Was A Drug Dealer #1

If I was a drug dealer I'd stand in the ginnel near the Time Piece in Dewsbury and whisper, "Pssst! Psst! Yeah, you! Do you wanna buy some drugs?"

Funny Ha Ha

This is supposed to be a joke.

In school, we had an assembly on bullying. The teacher spoke to a young gay boy, being bullied because of his sexuality.
She spoke at length about his life, and the verbal abuse he suffers. She then asked a question, "How do you think he takes it?"
Apparently, "Up the arse!" wasn't a suitable answer.

Now, I'm not averse to jokes in the slightest but this is not funny; hence not a joke. What I don't find funny is that at the start the child has being bullied because he is gay, which for a start is unacceptable as homophobia is wrong as it shows a lack of understanding and is a blatent display of ignorance.
The teacher then discusses the issue with the class, but the 'punchline' - "Apparently, "Up the arse!" wasn't a suitable answer."" - implies that the bullying is fine, because it is 'funny' and a 'joke'.
I'm no prude and I love comedy, especially if it is smart and witty; I take issue with the fact that this is viewed as humorous. Homophobia and bullying are anything but funny, they are major problems and lead people to take their own lives. I would love to know how that is funny.
The way that people can see the quoted 'joke' as a bit of fun does worry me, words and how they are read and understood are crutial and paramount to how we communicate and engage with the world.
People should really look at what they read more carefully, just because somebody says something is a joke does not mean that it is.

To The Sea

Tales for an Accelerated Culture

Generation X

People ask me "What have you left behind? You have all this and maybe more, but what have you left behind?" I pause and think, "I haven't left anything behind, it is you who has left life behind."

Burning Man

There was a man on fire in the crowd last night,
he screamed as he burned;
what a magnificent sight.

Harrogate Spa was thrown over him
He went on to smoulder, but it showed no end
You only get a mouthful in those bottles, my friend.

He danced the Waltz in the flames,
or maybe it was the Charleston?
I can't remember names.

Eyes, tongue and arms began to dangle,
How would you describe him?
How about a fluorescent mangle?

Come and visit Burning Man
And basque in the heat
He's the guy, the one you've to meet.