hey, looky, maw, that deathboy done stirred things up again...

christ... !

for no discernable reason, I am (again) all the FUCK over the mp3.com electronic industrial charts.

and fuck, I haven't even DONE anything recently.

well, I spose I'm writing music and stuff, but nothing out of the ordinary.

apparently, "return to psychotica" is probably not a bad track, then.

look - if I continue to become popular, there's a chance I'll become successful.

if I become *successful*, there's the very REAL danger that I'll end up round your house, fucking your pets.

don't argue, we BOTH know that's what ALWAYS happens.

christ, the laundry bills alone are going to crucify me.

anyway, end of post - I have to go fuck someone's chinchilla.

fuck, I'm tired.

Life.

What can I teach you?

If you want to know, if you're willing to listen, and if you accept my qualifications, I have something to say that I'd like you to hear.


My qualifications:

I was born to two very bright people.

My mom and dad are both clever. Both survivors. Both VERY messed up. Both really damn good at hurting each other. And, as is the way of the world, very much in love with each other. I think. Heh.

My mom had already had one son at the age of 13. To another man, who promptly left her. Back in her day, and in our area, this was NOT done. People were not yet used to teenagers having a kid at an age where they shouldn't even have been having sex, so she went through some mad shit. Her parents saw her through this. She proceeded, at the sacrifice of her own personal life from that age on to not only bring up a kid (my big bruv, well, half-bruv) who then got a 1st degree in physics and a PhD in some flavour of physics and chemistry (he bangs obscure atoms off each other and works out why stuff happened... I love my physics, but this is all just too hardcore for me), but also got herself a teaching degree, and, over the years, a highly paid teaching job.

My whole family is "working class". This means we're not rich. It means we might not be broke all the while, but we work for the money we need to get BY. Not be "comfortable", but *get by*. As such, all my friends from childhood, and my entire life perspective is based from a place where if you work in a factory, but you pay the bills, then that's cool.

In my generation, this has sadly meant that there are so many people that are willing to live off benefits that are the *same* as the shit job they could work for the same money and no effort that they *do*.

I was brought up to earn what you want.

Now don't get me wrong, I'm shit with money, I'm shit at saving, and I would much rather have something for free than have to work for it, but not at someone else's expense or charity.

I'd rather work for the same money as the benefits. It would give me self esteem at least.

So, on top of this, and given that my big brother was an academic genius, I had to do pretty well to "prove myself" to the family. I felt that I had to. If only because if I got a 'B' on my report card, my dad wasn't happy. He was "well, why didn't you get an 'A'? what more could you have done? huh?".

So, I strove to be the best.

Because I wanted to be loved.

And I wanted to prove to everyone that no matter what they thought, I could do well.

And so the kids at school fucked with me.

At any school, it doesn't do to enjoy achieving. To try hard. To want to be the best. There's only one winner and a million kids who want to stove your face in for daring to be better.

I never used to like fighting, so I didn't. I ran away. Not out of cowardice (because I HAVE run away on occasion out of pure fear, and that's different), but because I didn't think that fighting was the way to solve anything.

The upshot of which is that I got bullied like fuck.

But, as a kid, my personality was resilient to just get over it.

That stuff becomes harder over the years.

I also have a little brother, who I love to bits.

Same dad, so 'real' brother, but that's not important - I was brought up to believe both brothers were my brothers, the same, regardless of whether or not we shared the same blood.

And my little brother didn't do as well at school.

He's STILL very fucking bright. Ambitious. Precocious. Devious in fact! The guy has better social skills than me.

He also got strong. And big. And fast.

He had me and my big brother to look up to, and in terms of academia, didn't quite do as well... he also had everyone from my parents to grandparents and friends telling him how "it's ok, you can't expect to be as clever as scott and lee"... so he opted to be stronger... faster... more popular... better looking... the leader of the gang, and the kid all the girls liked.

And he got this.

So I have: Above me: a proven genius. 'Below' me: A kid with the body of a greek god and the love and fear of his peers.

And what do I have?

Music... a mind... a burning urge to create... the need to be loved... a naive dream so deeply written on my mind that it won't die: that I can be ANYTHING I want to be.

Man, did they beat the shit out of me.

Mentally and physically.

And I just dealt with it. I wasn't old enough to despise them, I just thought that was how life was, and that it didn't change my opinion, so get through it, fuck it, fuck them, carry on and do the best you possibly can - SOMEONE will love you for it.

Not fucking likely.

I hit 16 / 17.

I hit depression.

I was diagnosed as manic depressive.

I was put on anti-depressants, and given therapy.

The therapy was shit, the drugs helped me cope.

I finished school and went to uni.

Finally, despite the enormous feeling of loss and displacement, I realised that I was among people where more than 1 in 100 would like me, be like me, not *hate* me for what I was.

I started to blossom.

I got friends. Lots of them.

I got love.

I felt like I was HOME.

And, after three years, and many life-friends, I left uni, having managed to chance a 1st. As good as my big brother. You can't get better, so I'd done what I meant to do. I'd proved myself. To all my family, and to the working world that might want to give me a job later.

Then I left uni.

And had my heart ripped out.

It all goes away.

All that good stuff was the product of a certain environment. Now I was back in the normal world. With more fuckheads than my kind. Again.

And the job, and the people, and the life... slowly but surely, I had the soul sucked back out of me.

And over the years, even in the good years at uni, I've hit rock bottom.

Kill yourself time.

Kill EVERYONE time.

SO MANY TIMES.

That now I'm pretty good at it.

I can handle it.

I can ride it out and let no-one know - if that's what it takes.

I can ride it down into the depths and savour the pain and the violence and trash my life again.

I've done either on the various times it's happened.

I've been into the darkness so many times, and every time swore it would never happen again that now I've got dual citizenship.

I'm normal.

And I'm one of Them.

Everyone has their own personal hell, and I've plunged myself and been forced into it a thousand times over.

Every time it feels the same.

You can't see the way out.

Death is less hurtful.

Killing is less hurtful.

ANYTHING BUT THIS.

So these are my qualifications.

If you think I've not been through shit that compares to you, that's ok, I'm not here for a competition. I'd still ask you to read, but I understand if my life sounds like bliss to you.



My lessons:


Learn about yourself.

Most people don't know themselves very well. Whenever you hit rock bottom, at least learn about what it shows you. What caused it? How did it make you? What did you lose? What did you gain? Was it more important to go crazy but preserve the things you care about or would you sacrifice anything to never go back there? LEARN about yourself. You're trapped in this fucking box for a long fucking time. Get used to how it works. If you do, you're stronger than most people you'll ever meet. Not everyone is like you, but there will be things you learn that you'll see in others. And that's always good, whether you can use it to help them or hurt them. And you make yourself stronger because you know which bits to REALLY hide.


Find the things about you that you love. Find the things about life that make you happy.

If, after looking REAL fucking hard, you can honestly say (and I don't mean saying this when you're in the hole, I mean when you're feeling as good as you *can* feel), if there's NOTHING that you like about you, if NOTHING makes you happy, then I don't know what to say. Because I *can* find a few things in both lists. Not many, but enough. And I *used* to think there wasn't anything there in either case, but I've found stuff. Look. Look HARD. FIND stuff. And when you know that stuff, fucking cherish it. Be proud of it. Revel in it. Enjoy it. The stuff about you that you actually love (or even just plain don't abhor), then foster it, nurture it. You're with YOU every fucking day. Make the stuff about you that you like BIGGER, BETTER, HARDER, MORE. And the stuff about life that makes you grin, do it, live it, love it, don't feel guilty, don't feel bad, just fucking do it as often as and much as you need to. And defend it. If someone attacks something about you that you LIKE, FUCK THEM. If someone attacks something that you like about life, FUCK THEM. Maybe you can't fight someone who attacks this, but at least if you HAVE to run away, you're defending the most important thing on earth. Preferably kill them, of course. heh.


Find people that make you feel good. Good about you, good about life, just fucking GOOD.

These people exist. No matter WHAT you think, there ARE other people that are close enough to how you feel that they can help you. Often, it can make you just strong enough to get out of the hole just knowing you are NOT alone. And you fucking well AREN'T. It might feel like it. You might have exhaustively searched where you are far and wide and not found a soul like you, but LOOK MORE. Move to a new town. It might not solve everything. Some things might be worse. But look somewhere bigger. On the net. In the next bigger city to where you are. In the places you didn't think to look. The people you thought were nothing like you. Just keep looking. There ARE people like you. And we tend to recognise each other. And it's always good. There's fakers and pretenders and liars in every scene, but there's also people like you, and meeting a kyndred spirit can make your whole life valid again. To know that you aren't WRONG. To know that someone else understands, without judging, without hating, without knowing you, they just understand. It can build you back up and support you when you're weak, and raise you to the roof and give you someone to share with when you're strong. Find these people and love them more than family or partners or life itself. These people are the most important, most precious things you can find. FIND them. THEY ARE THERE. On a side issue, don't neglect people who aren't exactly what you need, but that do like you, and ARE there for you. Someone doesn't need to be kyndred to be good for you, and vice versa. There's lots of people you might just share a bit with, fuck, might not share ANYTHING with, but just get along with. The people that cause you more good than hate are to be cherished because there's precious fucking few of them. Surround yourself with good people. sacrifice for them. Expect them to sacrifice for you. Prove that you'll all stand together, or all fall together. Make your own family. One you CHOSE. Because you can go to sleep at night then. You can lie down, in the dark, surrounded by people you know love you for who you are, and know that the fuckers can't get you. We all need that. It's GOOD.


HAVE DREAMS.

No matter how futile, distance, disgusting, contemptible, pathetic, unrealistic, unlikely, moronic, petty, just HAVE DREAMS. If you don't have a goal, a purpose, a dream, then why live? Even if that dream is simply "to help my friend that I love even though I think I'm shit". Even if that dream is "to kill all the fuckers that EVER hurt me". Even if that dream is "to settle down to a life of quietness and calm and just be ok forever". No-one can judge your dreams. Anyone who attacks them should fucking die. Anyone who doesn't at least tolerate them is not good for you. WE NEED TO DREAM. Have a plan. No matter how silly. Aim for the stars. Even if you only hit the moon, you're above the fuckheads that can't see further than the next pint, the next paycheck, the next fix, the next weekend in front of the tv, the next fuck. HAVE A FUCKING DREAM. Let the dream bolster you when you wonder why you still bother breathing. Let the dream be bigger than you, bigger than the world. Believe you can do it even if you're sure you can't. YOU FUCKING WELL CAN. The only thing that's important is to HAVE A DREAM AND KEEP FUCKING PUSHING FOR IT. When we're all old and tired, even if you sit there with a photo of the fraction of the dream you ever managed, you'll smile and look back and think "I had my shot. I had my dream. I went for it". The only losers are the ones that never even dreamed.


NEVER GIVE UP.

The most important thing. EVER. **EVER**. Never give up. No matter how bad you think it is. I do NOT claim that suicide is an easy way, the cowards way. I have NO problem with suicide. I only say this: it's the last thing you get to do. MAKE IT GOOD. CONSIDER THE OPTIONS. If you have to die. If there's NO OTHER CHOICE (and I KNOW that this can happen) then consider: Could I KILL THEM FUCKING ALL BEFORE I GO? COULD I FUCKING MAKE A CHANGE? COULD I AT LEAST TAKE **ONE** OF THE FUCKERS WITH ME BEFORE I GO? If I don't hurt them, could I at least do something I never DARED to do... like throw it all to the wind and go travelling.. disappear... tell my boss what I always thought of him... tell my parents what they DID to me... blow up the shop I worked in that I hated... spend my last penny on that thing I always wanted? If you're thinking of death, then think of the options, too, with death as the last step... but don't think of death as the first step. You might do something you would never do otherwise... you might find a reason to live... you might NOT... but you might at least do ONE LAST THING before you close the book on your ability to change the world. I've thought "DIE!". I **THINK** "DIE" all the FUCKING TIME. But almost every time, I can find something else I can do first... that I WANTED to do... and most of the time, I do that, and I realise it's made shit better, and that I can carry on. Suicide is pure and good, but don't let it be a snap decision. PLEASE. And past suicide, if you plan to live, then LIVE FOR EVER. Do everything and anything you can ever do. NEVER let someone tell you that you can't do something. If everything you'd planned and hoped and dreamed fucks up, then fall... lie on the floor... bleed... THINK... get better... pull in favours... lean on friends... find your reason again... pull it all back together.. do ANYTHING and GET BACK UP. IF ONLY TO STICK IT TO THE FUCKERS THAT WANT YOU TO FAIL. But most of all, for YOU. GET BACK UP. YOU ARE WORTH IT. YOUR DREAMS ARE WORTH IT. YOU ARE MORE IMPORTANT THAN ANY OTHER FUCKER THAT LIVES, BREATHES, WALKS, TALKS, HITS, TOUCHES, LOVES, HATES or DIES. YOU ARE ALL. NEVER GIVE UP.


HOLD ON.

Different to never giving up. Holding on. When it's all bad. HOLD ON. When you're there, when it's all bad, when there's no way out, when it all needs black, it all needs fire, it all needs pain, it all needs cold. HOLD ON. Things change. Doors open. Life looks different. In the morning, when you sober up, when someone drags you up by your hair. HOLD ON. Give life a chance. I PROMISE YOU. THINGS GET BETTER. They take time. It will fucking well HURT. It will hurt more than you think you can handle. But you CAN handle it. And you GET STRONGER. IT ALL GOES AWAY. Things change. There is always a way out. If that way out is insanity, so be it. If that way is death, so be it. You are never helpless. You are never powerless. You can always make one last stab. You can always hold on a little longer. And something will pull through. This is the one shot you get. Hold on. Hold on longer. Just fucking HOLD ON. Things get better. Maybe not where you need them to be, but enough to get up and stand up and be glad that you did. Friends can help you get through, YOU can help you get through, but if you go through it a few times, you'll realise that where you are now will, thank fuck, seem like a bad nightmare some happy, drunk, exhultant, moshing, crazy time in the future. There IS a way out. You might not be able to see it. JUST FUCKING HOLD ON. YOU ARE MORE IMPORTANT THAN THIS. LIFE IS SHIT, BUT YOUR ABILITY TO DO SOMETHING BEFORE THE LAST DOOR IS CLOSED IS MORE IMPORTANT. HOLD THE FUCK ON. YOU FUCKING CAN. YOU FUCKING WILL. HOLD THE FUCK ON. THINGS GET BETTER. I PROMISE.

That's it.

That's all I've got.

I'm a fucking mess, but I've been high and low, good and bad, and I've got through this.

And I promise you - I'll rule the fucking earth and kill the fuckers that every hurt me.

Because I won't let go.

We're here to do something.

No god, no satan, no mother, father, society, lover, bully, teacher, whore.

WE ARE HERE TO DO.

ANYTHING.

So fucking well DO SOMETHING.



I'll see you on the other side.



-=Scott=-

I know...

Right, so it's late, and I meant to be asleep some hours ago.

I can't sleep...'head's pounding, teeth are grinding, I probably should have written some music, but tonight it didn't feel right.

I tried to get gone, but underneath the usual pounding, there's now a buzzing in the back of my head that's trying to get me to do something. I'm not sure what yet, but I *do* know that it won't shut the fuck up and let me rest.

So, anyway, I've added a new post (the last one) that, in my normal fashion (these days) is fucking EPIC in length, but is, at least to me, important.

I've also added it to my rant site, but I'm not sure if that's updated yet.

I've meant to do this for a while; various people's lives that I've touched, and that have touched mine over the net and as a part of me being DeathBoy have made me want to be able to say something worthwhile about life and living, and for me, that's not easy.

However, I **think** that despite all the shit of life, and how badly prepared for it all I seem to be, I've picked up a few things along the way that hurt like fuck to discover, but have kept me ticking. If I can pass this shit along to one other person that can use it, then that halves the cost to me. And that's good.

This is, honeslty, truly, how I feel about life, and the only heart-felt advice I can give to another human being.

And yes, it sounds like a bunch of shite, and I should probably start the Cult of DeathBoy or something, but I don't mean it like that, I just want to have my say amongst the millions of people that would rather smother us all.

So, for your reading pleasure, my last post is my honest, big-fucking-time view on all things.

I need sleep now.

Damn.