Leaving the Nest

Oh god. Has it really been THAT long since I've posted something that isn't poetry? I haven't posted something heartfelt and important since MAY.
Well, that isn't to say that my poems aren't heartfelt and important, but when I look back over this blog when I'm old and withered (assuming it lasts that long in this technological age) I would rather like to know what's going on in the brain of past me beyond his ability to string a few words together prettily. So I'm going to talk about myself, because I like to do that and this place is designed for it.
So. Where to begin? Where to end? I'm too concerned with structure. Must...vomit...words!
I am still an utter hedonist. You'd think that the onset of adulthood would have encouraged some sexual withdrawal, or at least sexual sense. Unfortunately I am still as voracious as ever, and though it isn't exactly out of control, it isn't under it either. To look is to desire, and this problem is only compounded by the fact that very very soon I am leaving the hovel that is Canberra forever, and wish to mark my departure in my characteristic way by fucking everything male that looks at me sideways. Irksome, yet very, VERY entertaining.
Onto that subject - I'm leaving home! Moving out, fleeing parents, finding my feet, learning the ropes, so on, so forth. I am departing the public service factory that is Canberra and going to university in Melbourne. The prospect of leaving behind everything and everyone I've ever known and loved is an amazingly appealing one and probably suggests something in my personality I'm loathe to examine too closely. Let's just say I like change and leave it at that.
There are a few people I'm going to miss - a few regrets, a few friendships left to wither, a few too many times playing the hermit, a few opportunities squandered. Such is life, I suppose. In six weeks, none of it will matter.
I've become increasingly political. That is probably symptomatic of the fact that A) I love my own opinion and think it is more important than everyone else's and B) I now have the right to vote. I am living in an age where I want to encourage social reform. I suppose every generation wants that to some degree, but I anticipate that in my lifetime there will be some revolutions, and I'm sitting here on the cusp of a lot of them. My speech for Com Skills was very anti-heterosexual and I note this down only because I want future me to remember it. Perhaps I'll put it on this blog at some point.
I am still very much in love with my female counterpart and here, right before we embark upon our lives under the same roof after wanting it for so long, I can really appreciate just how important that love has become to my sense of self. I don't just love her - I am her. She occupies my thoughts continuously and it is almost scary. Still, I am content.
I am worried about the amount that I am eating. It is not enough but my stomach refuses more.
I am deathly afraid of magpies.
I have read 1984 for the first time and believed every word as a grim portent of things to come.
I am unpleasantly attached to the feel of fingertips behind my ears.
I have re-pierced my eyebrow at considerable expense.
I am very happy with the way my brain is working at the moment.
I am filled with love.

Summer is coming back and I feel change in the air. Time to leave the nest and go looking for it.

Each Burn Another Sin

Note: I did not write this. This is taken from another blog that I happen to be following. I just think it is a fantastic piece of writing and want to record it.

He gives an offering of flesh, he lets temptation win
Used Matches on the floor, each burn another sin
The pain leaves his head, as the flame burns his skin
He caused so much hurt, each burn another sin

To a demon of pride, he had become host
he had taken for granted, the one who meant most
For the hurt he has caused, the skin he must roast
An act of redemption, for the one who means most

His soul is inhuman, made of wire and tin
He stabs at his flesh, and burns at his sin
Each scar's a reminder, of the beast he let in
the only way out, is to burn for his sin.

Pulse

Oh,
it starts low.
One two, one two.
No sign of three.

Oh,
I want this.
It swells, it swells.
Rising higher.

Oh,
The tension.
The crash, the crash.
All has fallen.

And there's no way out,
It's time to wake up,
It makes you feel alive,
But you know you won't survive.

And now it burns you,
And yet you want more?
It purifies your soul,
It pulses and you're whole.

Oh,
It ended.
Rewind, rewind.
Listen again.

Oh,
The bassline.
Throbbing, throbbing.
This is heartbeat.

Oh,
This is it.
It ends, it ends.
The crescendo.

The Line

Cross this line in me,
You satisfy a fading need,
This is my faith to soothe your fears,
This is my breath to fill the void,
This is my hand to hold you, dear.

Cross this line again,
I refuse to let you fail.
I won't let you pass today,
I won't let you bleed it out,
I won't let you fade away.

Cross the lines aside,
I hate the way you look at me.
I hate the way you're cold to touch,
I hate the way you will not see,
I hate the way you ask too much.

You reach deep inside me,
The lines unbroken lie,
You cannot satisfy,
And so you take from me.
You tear and break and rend,
This cannot be the end!
You are consuming me,
You are engulfing me,
You are destroying me,
I'm waiting to die.

I cross this line for you.

I cross this line for you,
And though you will not see,
How this is tragedy,
I know that somehow,
Somewhere, this all will be worth it.

Just a line to cause a scream.
Just a line to break a dream.
Just a line to let me fall.
Just a line to burn it all.
Just a line - that's all, I swear!
Just a line, words in the air.
Just a line to cross again.
Just a line, this is the end.