What now?

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Steven Mullaney Some shoddy piece of card means nothing! If you love me, bake me a cake!
14 Feb 2010

Steven Mullaney hates Christmas parties, I feel sick; all that ‘being nice’ stuff - I really shouldn’t drink the free red wine.
30 Dec 2009

Steven Mullaney Feels this pending hangover is going to be as welcome as a Jehovah Witness with Syphilis knocking on the door at six in the morning.
27 Dec 2009

Steven Mullaney Oh, how I hate you. I hate you so much it gives me energy. I have to get up early in the morning just to hate you because there's not enough time in the day!
25 Dec 2009

Steven Mullaney I can put up with a lot of things; hip hop music about lip gloss, people that wear Mickey Mouse hands on hats whilst dancing to the alphabet song, people that think Cliff Richard actually exists. But Jesus Christ! How does one justify selling a Christmas dinner with only ‘ONE’ pig in blanket?
21 Dec 2009

Steven Mullaney Not a problem that can't be cured with a little red wine, except leprosy perhaps.
13 Dec 2009

Steven Mullaney Is feeling as random as a pink elephant eating a banana peel in a pool of spatulas baby! x
21 Oct 2009

Steven Mullaney Help, NO WINE LEFT, head sobering, reminiscences forming, what is happening to me! Help me!!
19 Oct 2009

Steven Mullaney Is a bad person, has always been, and yet you people are always surprised!
21 Sep 2009

Steven Mullaney Hasn’t been this puzzled since Mr Bailey showed him a kiwifruit in 1998
20 Sep 2009

Steven Mullaney thinks there’s too many people in this world, only really need about six.
29 Aug 2009

Steven Mullaney is never going outside again... unless I need someplace to throw up, which may be very soon thanks to this perpetual hang-over
22 Aug 2009

Steven Mullaney is not amused, Facebook is broken, wonder if MySpace will take me back? I’ll buy some flowers.
16 Aug 2009

Steven Mullaney It’s all your fault I’m drunk, look at you all, all over the place like a nest of pigs! If I wasn’t trapped here I wouldn’t have so much to blot out.
31 July 2009

Steven Mullaney This little piggy stayed home
14 July 2009

Steven Mullaney Run, run, as fast as you can! You can't catch me I'm the Gingerbread Man!
27 June 2009

A thunderous roar rumbled as a thread- like flash of light cracked and shredded the dark canvas of the sky. Rain plummeted from the heavens like razor-sharp rocks. And yet, within this shower of pitchforks I felt at ease, almost meditated, like a shell of solitude shielded me. Don’t get me wrong, given the choice of walking along the gutter of a spineless country road or being at home snugly perched in front of the fireplace; the latter would be the preference. Alas the current outcome of the time was not optional but pleasantly, home was the destination. I remember all I could think off was her. Absent from my presence physically she now clouds my psyche. She distorts my sense of time and devours my concept of consciousness. She’s the piercing light of the moon in the heart of the sky. She was my raison d'être. She’s the very substance of my being; she is the bedrock of I upon which the whole of my meaning rests.
Now I’m a wonderer, drifter, and empty like a husk. An inconsolable husk that missed her; her smile that creased up her face and illuminated her half-mast raven-black eyes, way she combed down her fringe with her fingers when ever she remembered too, the way she touched my arm when she laughed. I could understand her wanting more than me, but I could think of nothing more than her. I remember when I first met her in college when I was studying art. She was new like me but unlike all the other single girls there at the time, the other men didn’t harass her for attention. She was not your page three pin-up girl material I guess, so everyone just left her alone. But inconspicuously, she was as beautifully faultless as a blade of grass. The whole world was blind to her imperceptible nature; her majestically discrete perfection. She was my little secret.
However now this nostalgic reminiscence is slaughtering me within, it’s like that inner quiver you feel just before you cry, your heart drowns within its own blood in defeat as you wonder, you ponder, like a philosopher in a godless world asking, what now?

What now?

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