>>> Where the sun don't shine...

... you'll find me.

Yet again, another rather random composition for A Bombshell In Parliament, a band that may never see the light of day or the dark of night, but, in all probability, will continue to live on in the minds of two rather strange individuals. Poetic compositions for lyrical therapies of the mind's strange soul which is its subconscious.

"Derogatory silences
and phantasmal kisses.
Bloodless violences
and foolish minxes.
Absent presences
and whispered misses.
The perfect recipes
for breaking hearts."
- Heartbreak for Fools

Anyone know where I can learn to play the bass guitar? I have a Vantage bass and amp at home which I'm itching to play... and to be GOOD at.

I'm open to suggestions, people.

Anyways, carrying on with more weird productions of the mind - and in most cases, MY mind - let your eyes travel downwards as you read within the quietitude of your mind.

NEXT!

The following haiku was composed on the spur of the moment while at work on yet another solo shift. To be honest, I really don't mind being alone in the store, but this is getting ridiculuous. It's so boring that my brain feels like it's turning into radioactive sludge. But at least my mind is still creative enough to churn out the oddities that you bear witness to here... for now, at any rate.

This is dedicated to the women whom I've loved and still love, in some cases. For those who know me, they might be able to figure out who I'm talking about. Especially if you know how I think and what a mess of wires and bolts my mind is.

XII The Hanged Man
The creeping glow of sunrise
Ashes and a bell's knell on the wind
Hanging from a leafless tree.

Yeah, I suppose there's still some lingering misery and sadness residing in my heart. And that inspires the insanity that graces your screen.

What else do you expect?

I make no apologies.

I'm only human.