Blind and confused

I got blocked by a feeling that just wouldn't go away
When it comes it takes over and I'm sure it's here to stay
There's nothing I can do, I don't wanna leave my bed
The only explanation is a demon in my head.

My thoughts can never help me when I'm stranded in the mist
And alcohol just blinds me but the fog it still exists
It hasn't gone away you know, It's always part of me
It's hard to stumble blind towards a light i cannot see.

Arsenal, Champions league finalists!!!!!

Today is a good day to be an Arsenal supporter, So therefore today is a good day for me.
After years of trying we finally made it to a Champions league final and it hasn't quite sunk in yet.

After a first leg that should have been 2 - 0 and would have been only for a perfectly good goal being chalked off for offside. And then a second leg that ended in the most dramatic manner, with Villarreal being awarded a penalty in the dying moments of the tie. It was never a penalty, but as it happened super Jens "king" of Lehman managed to save it anyway (which was nice).

In the first leg we had the appearance of a squirrel on the pitch (he/she made 3 forays onto the Highbury turf in total, (even squirrels love Arsenal) and then last night a fan (wearing an Argentina top) invaded the pitch and presented Thierry Henry with a Barcelona top with Henry's name printed on the back of it. I suspect he may have been a Villarreal fan trying to unsettle the great man. Despite the fact Henry didn't manage a goal on the night, it didn't seem to phase him at all.

What can i say but, Roll on may 17th (The Final).


No matter who we end up with be it Barca or Milan I see no reason why we should be afraid.
All that's left for me to say is, whatever happens, they've (Arsenal) done us (anyone who supports them) proud.......

Depression!

Depression, it's class
it plants your head right up your arse.
It turns your thoughts into a farse
hates hapiness to ever last.

Depression, inside me like a parasite
It thrives on pain as i feel like shite
It haunts me as i sleep at night.
It twists me, makes my chest feel tight,
A never ending appetite. For pain,

Depression, it's rife in me and must survive
It drains my soul to stay alive.
It takes my hope when i have none
It saps my stregnth and that's me done.

Depression, it gives me just a little hope
feeds me just a little rope
To hang myself, and quit this life
too much trouble, too much strife.

Depresion, it needs to live
I guess my mind will have to give
I have no fight, my race is run
It saps my stregnth and that's me done.

Nature...

Nature is natural it's not unilateral
It's the same the world over and can't be escaped
People aren't perfect but a product of instinct
Some have no problem being crooked and fake.

There seems to be so little honer
Yet we all exist in this world together
Morals eroded loose their value
Only employed when it's felt they have to.

Inconsistent fake and faceless
emitting an air that's truly graceless
One rule for some, for others there's none
It seems inconsistent how respect is won.

Slimy snakes keep social climbing
so important to them but a waste of time, and
I can't abide them, they make me sick
amoral weasels, sneaky and slick.

Painting false pictures is a waste of a brain
so much time invested as the truth is molested
Some people prefer lies and never will change
It's a way of life that seems such a shame.

Shameful it is, when the truth is a game
sometimes played and often mislaid
Some lie so much they forget their own name
In the end I conclude human natures to blame.

Nature...

Nature is natural it's not unilateral
It's the same the world over and can't be escaped
People aren't perfect but a product of instinct
Some have no problem being crooked and fake.

There seems to be so little honer
Yet we all exist in this world together
Morals eroded loose their value
Only employed when it's felt they have to.

Inconsistent fake and faceless
emitting an air that's truly graceless
One rule for some, for others there's none
It seems inconsistent how respect is won.

Slimy snakes keep social climbing
so important to them but a waste of time, and
I can't abide them, they make me sick
amoral weasels, sneaky and slick.

Painting false pictures is a waste of a brain
so much time invested as the truth is molested
Some people prefer lies and never will change
It's a way of life that seems such a shame.

Shameful it is, when the truth is a game
sometimes played and often mislaid
Some lie so much they forget their own name
In the end I conclude human natures to blame.