Author Archives: pete

The world I’ve created

I get very freaked out by the thought of my own consciousness. What am I? How am I thinking and what is thinking?

I sometimes go back to the thought that most of us have probably had at one point in our life; ‘What if no one else is real and only I exist.’ I also think that one day I’m going to have to answer for this world I’ve created.

My thoughts on this have expanded slightly recently.

What if my own thoughts are responsible for all the stupid things in this world? Someday, when I have to answer for all this, how am I going to explain jobs, war and celebrities?

I just imagine something saying;

‘You should have seen some of the other worlds that were created. The experiences and alternate realities and ever-changing physical beings with ever lasting life. Incalculable emotions and senses.  You on the other hand, why did you stop at love and orgasms? Why did you spend most of your time working for money to obtain substances that is excreted from your anus? What was your obsession with creating people more important than others? Why make selfies such a big deal? Why limit your life to 100 years and create such an annoying afterlife?’

When I was 8 I was sitting in McDonalds eating a filet o fish and a daunting realisation dawned on me.

There is never an actual moment when I am enjoying this. It’s either not being eaten, in my mouth, or in my stomach. When is the moment when I’m suppose to be enjoying this?

That was one of the worse meals of my life. Tasteless, and made me never want to eat anything again. How did I get over this? To simply put it, I eventually just forgot. Actually I haven’t thought about his in a long time and I wish I hadn’t. Damn.

So where am I? Sometimes I feel like I’m just hovering around,  or like my consciousness is staying in the same place and everything is moving around me. And is it just me? How many others are experiencing my life? Maybe we’re all just recycled souls going into new vessels.

With all that said,  have a great self-created world of a day with unenjoyable meals and experiences floating passed you and the other stationary beings trapped in your vessel.

Kind regards,


Ass from the past.

I thought I was a genius when I was 16.

I would write something like:

“Absurd slurred words are blurred, heard then transferred.”


Always changing his mind and values.


Now I hate words that rhyme.

I hate lines that flow in time.

What I like now is unnecessarily long sentences that just seem to look out of place.



Are all welcome.

To read and judge.

I don’t give a fudge.

Although I think it will just be me seeing this.

So what’s the point?

Scooby do.

Bip bap a roo.

Do do,  do you?

The ending.

Don’t know how to end this.

Something that links to the first part of the poem.

I don’t know.

16 year old me would know.

He would know the perfect thing to say to tie it all up.

That guy was a genius.


25 August 2015 – Secret button at pedestrian light for blind people

Update:  Following posting this I have found out that this is not secret and I’m probably the last person to figure this out. Anyway…

I’m standing at a completely empty road crossing waiting for the green man.

Usually I would cross but there is a man with his two young sons on the other side of the road trying to teach them about road safety.

The only thing I gain from this besides the knowledge that I am better than the pricks that cross at a red light in front of children, is that I have perhaps helped a parent teach their child not to cross the road when the man is red; but this time I have gained so much more.

All three of them have their hands under the yellow box with the button on; due to the no traffic I catch the end of the conversation.

“So blind people know when the light is green.”

Intrigued, I put my hand under the box and feel a button.

I don’t think I’ve ever been quite excited for the light to turn green because I only caught the end of the conversation, I don’t know what the button is going to do.

I also don’t really want them to know I was listening but its quite obvious because we are standing opposite each other and I have my hand under the box, mimicking his child.

The light turns green and the button starts twisting:


I can’t help but feel for this button at every crossing now and next time someone asks me what blind people do at crossings, I won’t incorrectly tell them that they probably listening for the buzz of the light turning green.


An underwater train and Doctor Who cameras

I’m on a dark train filled with people.

To the left of me is the ocean and a big brick wall acting as a barrier. You can’t see the ocean due to the wall but you know its there from the waves crashing against the barrier almost flowing over the top. The water is turquoise but also crystal clear, like the Caribbean.

Each wave crash is getting bigger and bigger. The carriage cheers as water goes over the wall onto the train making a loud bang.

Every following wave is flowing over the wall and the sound of the crashing water is getting louder and louder until a giant wave covers the whole train.

The train is still on the track but completely submerged in water. I can see water on the windows and the sound of the train is muffled and very faint.

It is now pitch black as the train descends into a steep tunnel.

I get off the train and am excited to be on the journey I am on; I start walking towards a building.

Inside the building is all my friends from school and my brother. They’re all looking at their camera phones.

“Pete, check this out” says Mike.

He puts a sonic screwdriver from Doctor Who against the camera of his phone and rotates it around.

“Just imagine its like a joy stick on a game driving around.”

The photo on the phone rotates around and everything in all directions from the person taking the camera can be seen on photo.

This is amazing, I can’t wait to show Inga.

I go to work and I’m in the break out area, I walk towards my desk.

Realising I’m completely naked, I grab an empty box to cover my ass and run towards my clothes.

Chris is holding the door shut not letting people in.

“They want to kill us.”

Trying desperately to put my clothes on before I have to battle, I notice my face feels incredibly stretched.

I can’t talk properly and go to a mirror.

There is a huge lump on my cheek and as I push it back in, I feel fluids being dispersed around my face and head.

20th August 2015 – Confronting my smoking neighbour

I live in a ground floor studio flat which has direct access to a communal garden which no one shares, its basically my garden. It’s my garden.

I used to smoke and used my garden as an ash tray but having quit a year ago my garden has been cigarette free for, well, a  year.

Recently I noticed quite a few cigarette ends building up and a few actually on the steps and on the bit directly outside my door.

There is a flat above mine and I often hear their window which faces the garden, open and shut. I also smell smoke sometimes but that doesn’t really bother me.

I decided to confront this neighbor and I absolutely hate confronting people, so much!

In my head, everyone I have to confront is an angry drunk who will beat me up.

On the way back from checking my meter reading, coincidentally the window above me opened and I saw an arm resting out. I stayed there for a bit and saw some ash fall down.

Now or never.

My Hertfordshire not quite posh and not quite London voice turned into a tough but understanding polite Londoner.

“Excuse me mate.”

No response, his arm retracts and I can hear whispering. Luckily he can’t see the terror in my face.

Please respond.

I hope I won’t have to resort to plan B which is collecting the cigarettes and leaving them on his door step, really don’t want to start a feud. I will really do that, I am very unconfrontational but when I do confront someone I tend to overreact if it doesn’t go my way.

“Do you mind not throwing your cigarettes into my garden.” MY garden!

A skinny head pops up, a student I think.

“Sorry, really need to get an ash tray. I’ll come pick them up now.”

Interesting, I’m the scary one.

“Thats ok, I used to use it like that too. But now I don’t smoke anymore its a bit annoying.”

Don’t appear too nice.

He says cheers or something, can’t remember, then a few minutes later I hear plastic bag noises outside my window.

I think he’s out there picking them up but I don’t want to be seen peeking throw my blinds.

After the noises stop, I peek and all the cigarette ends have gone. Oh yea!



Ticket to the end

I’m in another version of the world I usually live in. It feels like another dimension. Everything is different, the colours, the smells, even the emotions feel altered.

Everyone is walking in the same direction, down a long village road. The village is densely populated and there are brick buildings in every direction. I want to get to the destination first, I need some tickets.

At the desk a man is telling me how much everything will be.

“At the end that will cost 2000.”

I start counting hundred ‘bills’ onto the counter.

“The bus ticket will also cost 2000.”

I know that thousands for a bus ticket would usually be too much but I also know that I’m in a different reality and accept it.

Counting it out I see that I am probably going to be a bit short, I need this trip and there is no other option.

“You need to leave now, the bus is about to leave.” he says.

I start counting quicker.

“You don’t understand you need to leave now! Right this second now! Go!”

I keep a couple of notes and throw the rest across the counter knowing I’ve underpaid and start running.

The bus is leaving and I wave it down, luckily it stops.

The bus is shaped like a normal bus but where the windows should be are 6ft arched windows with no glass. There are no seats and people are standing trying not to fall off the bus.

As we drive we see poor people walking in our direction, these are the people who couldn’t afford the bus.

I find myself jumped off the bus and feel an instant feeling of fear as I realise that I shouldn’t have got off yet.

<em>I don’t even remember getting off, why did I get off??</em>

Continuing to walk in the direction of the bus, I see it is getting further and further away but still in sight.

I see a boy with a push scooter.

“I want to buy your scooter.” I say as I give him the remaining bills in my pocket.

“This is only 400.” he says.

At this point I don’t care and just ride off on the scooter down the road.

Passing the bus, I decide to keep going.

Soon there are no people and no cars. Just me on a sunny suburban street.

I think I’ve gone too far, I should have just followed the bus.

Three men and one boy are all looking in my direction. They are all dressed in black suits, a black hat and black sunglasses. One of the men is standing to the right of the others and is not wearing sunglasses, he seems to struggle to know who to follow. The other three are striking identical poses, similar to how models pose, lead by the boy.

In complete silence albeit the sound of shoes moving on the gravel between poses, the boy takes his hand out of his pocket and puts it on his hip, so do the other three men.

He turns the other direction, looks down at the ground to check his position and then slowly looks up, as do the others following his lead.

This happens a few more times before the three of them look at the man without shades.

“Who are YOU?” one of the men says.

The questioned man looks embarrassed.

“What the hell are YOU doing here?”

Indoor mountain rocks

I’m with my cousin Nick who is challenged to a dance off by a teenage boy. Nick agrees but runs away. I pay £80 for a round of drinks for my Mum and Dad and I feel a bit sick that I’ve spent so much so quickly.

I go looking for Nick and find him at football park where many five a side games are being played. Nick is looking for the secret passage that we have to go through.

Nick is talking to a player that has just been subbed; he’s trying to find out if he knows where the passage is.

“I’m actually a scout for Manchester City.” Nick says.

Confused why he thinks he has to lie to find out, I ask someone who looks like they work at the park. He points to a building in the centre of the park that has a cave in the wall.

“Everyone knows where the passage is, it’s the first thing you learn when you join.” The man says.

I signal to Nick and we go into the cave.

There are no steps but a maze of large damp rocks that we are climbing up. It gets really tight and I start to think I might get stuck.

We finally get to the top and there is a steep wooden rope bridge going up towards a mountain where my parents are at still enjoying the drinks I bought.

I start going across the bridge but my legs start moving really slowly. I can’t move and just lay on the bridge trying not to fall off.

Snowy beach

I’m at a beach house and the streets are dusted with sand.

There are a group of people playing basketball and I want to play but the last time I touched the ball someone punched me in the face.

Me and my friend know we shouldn’t but we interrupt the game and start throwing the ball around. I run into the house and go upstairs, I can see a giant tidal wave coming in the distance.

I slide down a white flag and run towards the beach where my dad is with a Jamaican man throwing a frisbee around.

There are loads of boomerangs on the sand and I pick one up and throw it towards the ocean. It comes back at me and hits my hand quite hard but doesn’t really hurt. The Jamaican man says something to me but he is really small, about the size of the Frisbee and I can’t hear what he’s saying.

There is a blanket of snow on the beach and I can see sand sprinkled on top.

Everyone I can see has buttons where their eyes should be and are all looking for round objects to throw around.

Ants in my pants and senseless shaving (warning, not a nice one)

I’m in the corner of a room and to get to the exit I need to walk through the moving floor.

The floor isn’t actually moving, but due to the billions of ants cover it, it just appears to be.

To avoid stepping on any ants, I keep my shoes on the floor surface and slide across the ground as I walk; the floor of ants are up to about an inch over my ankle.

I finally get to the end of the room and walk out the room. I jog over to a clear area and brush the ants off my trousers; I can feel something in my ass.

I start farting out ants which then start crawling out my ass unassisted and down my leg and making a pile on the floor; the ants are about an inch long.

Terrified, I just stand their feeling helpless and sick as one by one they start crawling out. I feel horrified when I look down and see the size of the pile on the floor which is about he size of a football.

Praying that each one is the last one, they slow down but are still coming out; I pull my trousers down and I can see my thighs moving.

I feel crawling under the skin on my thighs and I start making desperate crying sounds as I run my palms down firmly and slowly my legs as if I’m squeezing the last bit of toothpaste out of a tube.

I run to a toilet and the whole room is made of wood and it is dripping and very damp. There is a man dressed like a farmer in a dark corner standing near the cubicles. I go into one and I can see him looking at me through the planks of wood surrounding the toilet stacked up making the see through walls.

I wake up (actually) and have four very big farts.

Asleep again, I am looking at a clock and feel shocked when I realise I haven’t packed yet and my parents are waiting for our taxi. I’m not at home but an airport which has our kitchen in it.

My clothes are still drying and I don’t want to pack wet clothes. My Auntie Trish is talking with my mum and they’re looking at a tiny woolen hat which says ‘Granddad Joe’ on it; referring to my friend Joe.

I’m now not really part of the dream but watching it from an outsider. I’m watching a woman trying to hold back her pain as she shaves her face.

Shaking with cuts all over her face, she tears up as she puts more shaving cream on and grits her teeth as she starts shaving again. She doesn’t say anything, but I know that she’s doing it so that people will think her boyfriend beats her so she can get on the flight for free.

Back in the dream, I’m in my kitchen frying some cauliflower; I add some eggs and turn it over.

Eating it, I’m trying hard to remember not to forget the new 6 pack of socks I just bought.

Swimming cats and birds with bandanas

I’m at the edge of the sea and the sun is setting.

Ankle deep in the warm sea, I feel a bit scared that we can’t see what’s under the water.

I think there might be sharks but feelings of excitement outweigh my fear and I just want to get in the water.

In the distance, completely black clouds are emerging from a grey sky.

It is pitch black now and I am swimming in the dark water with two people I don’t know.

Larger than normal cats come to the surface from under the water and start swimming around us playfully.

I get out of the sea and go upstairs to my old bedroom at my parents house.

It is daytime now but the sky is completely black. My family are downstairs and we all know we have to stay inside. It feels a bit like in the movie Day after tomorrow when they couldn’t go outside because something odd was happening with the weather.

Looking into the garden through my window, I see a shivering bird land with a folded bandanna on it’s back.

It shakes off the bandana, which is actually three bandanas, and starts folding them individually with his wings.

Two more birds land in the garden and the first bird helps put the bandanas on the backs of the other birds before putting the last one on his own.

A huge tortoise climbs over the fence at the end of the garden and the three birds start attacking it.

I run down stairs screaming:

“Help the tortoise!”

Even though it is very dangerous to go outside, my primary concern is that my family will think I’m one of those nature loving save the whales kind of person.

Now in the garden, my girlfriend is helping me scare the birds away. The tortoise starts chasing us both around the garden before jumping into a extremely small tube it shouldn’t be able to fit into.