IRC-Galleria

its too easy to buy six cans of nostalgia for a fiver. an evening of exchanged words and laughs, we fell silent to the hidden instrumental track. after a sigh or two, someone declares one for the road, and slow movements are made to avoid the bottle top ashtrays. the cd changes to saddle creek 50, and how I despise rilo kiley and cursive. in an hour or two the sun will rise and youÂ’re walking around in your underwear sweeping the shards of broken halos under the bed. I think about offering you a sip of my breakfast, but I know you're better than me.

I'm going to teabag the lot of you.

Please buy me socks.

It goes so quiet when the record ends. There's no hidden track, no lofty peak. My eyes ache from being forced to stay open to witness your bare hips and naked feet. If you play the trapeze artist and I'll be the mathematician. If you hold tight, and I will count. I will count the number of paces to the guitar that stands in drop d. I will count the number of books that line the shelf. I will count the number of seconds I can hold my breath. Just as long as you hold tight.

"Hello, I am Imran's pet fish. I dont really have a name, but most mornings I get referred to as 'little bastard'. My water is oxygen depleted and the surrounding air is filled with exhaled smoke; usually the funny kind. I have to put up with his shitty loud music and the room is badly lit. The lava lamp is annoying, the swirly patterns make me dizzy and I end up bumping my nut on the sides of the bowl :( Imran is a bad owner I hope he dies before me, the cunt."

I remember crossing the rope bridge at Carrick-a-Rede to a grassy cliff-top of Carrick Island. Walking to what seemed the furtherest point, I thought 'wouldn't it be great to have this view everyday'. I told my friends that if I had a house around these parts, I would open a lemonade stand and sell my chilled beverages to girls and during my lunch break I would cross the bridge to find yet another view and I would sit and eat my homemade bread and cheese and I would breathe slowly and deeply.

We drove north to the furthest point of Donegal to the Downings and Fanad peninsula to reach The Strand for the oceanic views. When we parked, I ran to the edge of the cliff and saw the Atlantic ocean crashing beneath me. I told Bob that the ocean had great potential and its mass looked scary. I told him that my favorite colour was blue and it was somewhere out there among the various depths of blues and greens crashing on the shore.

The next day, after a beautiful wedding ceremony in a church in Milford; at the reception I danced with a girl who inherited eyes from the ocean. Her eyes had great potential and amazing depth. I would glance into them for a few seconds at a time to find my favorite colour of blue and I thought 'wouldn't it be great to have this view everyday'.

i saw M Ward play on friday night and i still think he's one of best singer/songwriters, the show was really amazing. on the way home i was walking down my street and i was on the phone to some girl i had met earlier in the week. we were arranging to met up the following day. 100 yards from my place some idiot come out of nowhere branding a huge fucking knife demanding something. i wasnt quite sure what he said and i figured this was going to be pretty bad situation. then out of impulse i grabbed the knife from his hands like a madman and started waving it to his face. shit. i bolted down the street and he gave chase. half way down the street i noticed that my hand was bleeding like crazy. i had sliced it open when i grabbed the knife. this made me really really mad, so i turned around and started chasing him. my new jeans were covered in blood. i was pissed. while this was all going on, my phone was still in my hand and this poor girl could hear everything. she was panicked and helpless. i think she tried to call the cops. i disposed of the knife in the alleyway. the next day i cleaned my hand and it didnt look so bad. i met up with the girl and got mashed, i ended up crashing at her place. when i woke up the next morning, my hand had bled most of night on this poor girls bed, like someone had done a big period on it. just got back from a&e, and they GLUED the wound on my hand shut. i was impressed.