W's have all the best words

I am assuming due to the incredible halt in blog activity that something is changing, and that something has changed. In the corner of the room, hiding beneath the jacket that hasn't been worn for months, and slowly creeping into view, is the official end of the degree. Obviously such wonderful news has one specifically significant reprecussion as i write, as it means that the creative industries blog project that i have toiled over, yet in no no way understoood for the best part of the year, is over, and the safe first that i am expecting (but not anticipating) is already there.
This is good news, for everyone bar the faithful readers who listen to this blog; and bad news to everyone apart from the faithful listeners who read this blog.
While the rest of my class seem happy to let this occasion pass without notice, and focus on the far more frivilous activities like finding jobs and eating worms, i have decided that i could not do this, and have set aside several minutes of my life to put on papa roach on random and sign off with a bang. so, are you ready? Are you sitting comfortably on a comfortable chair? Are you ready for the end? Timmy, come out from beneath that cupboard, this is important. something is about to end. Something is about to die. Along with several people sitting around the world right now eating pasta and watching reality TV, something is about to die. And with all the natural disastors and human timebombs disrubting everyday life it is hard to imagine the real point of things like Big Brother, The Da Vinci Code, (Cod) Jim Davidson, and this blog.

What do you call a pencil without a tip?

Broken.

A Poem.

The Palace is a pseudonym of God’s

The sky is clear, but there is a cold wind

That cools me too much, and I struggle to keep warm.

In front of me is a man pushing a trolley down the pavement,

And I follow him, like I have always done before.

The more I follow him, the more I trust him.

But today the trust is gone, and I walk

From behind Him, past Him, to in front of Him.

I no longer follow Him, and He is now behind me.

I walk on with frantic pace, faster, forward, faster, forward, and faster.

And the man pushing the trolley is now far behind me.

And if I was to turn around now he would be too far back for me too see

Him. And I can no longer hear the wheels of his trolley

Clatter as they ricochet off the clunky pavement.

A girl waves at me from a passing car, but I don’t recognize her

Because she is in a car, which is moving fast.

I wave back anyway, and the memory of the girl morphs until

It is someone that I wanted to wave at me.

And I pretend it is her that waved.

I stop on the bridge that crosses the Road, and I watch,

As the cars flash by with people inside of them.

People with places to see and people to go, and though I don’t know them

I imagine for a second that I do, and that they are all friends of mine.

I wonder whether any of them would ever talk to me if they weren’t my friends,

I wonder whether any of them would touch me, laugh at my jokes, kiss me or

Fuck me.

I used to be so innocent.

I look up at the sky that was so clear and is now so dark,

I have been standing on the bridge for too long now and

I must go back to the palace.

But in all the thrill and fun I have forgotten where the palace is,

And I wonder whether I will ever re-remember it.

I am lost in the night and I want to go home.

But in all the thrill and fun of the day I have changed where home is.

I know that everything will be okay because I am comforted

by the sound of music, and by the streetlights that I will now use to guide me.

But now The Music has stopped and The Lights have gone out.

I am in the dark and the cold and I want to hear some music to comfort me.

But The Music has stopped.