Writers block

Woe oh woe oh woe is me, the gods have taken it upon themselves to single me out and rain down misery upon my weary sole, I am suffering the sufferage of the unimaginable devastation…

.. . I have a slight cold.

The only known cure for a low level illness, is a day of self piteous introspection whilst wrapped in a quilt watching bad American sit coms.

Now the intention when I started typing was to do a lengthy and poetic blog about 2006 and all the wonder and heartache it brought, but this has failed for two reasons, my mind-brain is lacking in creative words [as anyone who has spoken to me this week will testify] and, well frankly, it was my year, not yours… it is simply enough to say I've had pockets of fun, obviously hidden in the woe, I've got to know some new people who will have all changed me slightly, I've sent some embarrassing and inappropriate digital messages whilst drunk [which I have been too often], I have sacrificed potential times with impressive people because my heart was once left in a rusty bucket in a kitchen cupboard many years ago and neglected to take it with me when I moved to new surroundings, I've visited the capital of, I've travelled alone on an aeroplane, I've played thirty nine gigs in sixteen different towns in two different countries, I've had a record that I played on played on radio1 [one of those moments when your life feels like a film], and since September I've had an amazing experience every tuesday night and I've finally moved into a flat that I really really like, so much so I'm even keeping it tidy. I've I've I've, Me Me Me MEEEEE!!!

You know a genuinely think I've broken my brain, I just read back at the blogs I did in the first half of the year, and well, all todays words feel mocked by them… I think I shall sit in a corner and weep gently at the loss of my cleverishness.

As an addendum, a thanks to the couple of people who kept me sane last night, it was a pretty stressful do and the company, smiles and hugs were much appreciated… I shall return the favour one time. 

x

I fell in love with the marks & spencers checkout girl

ok, so let's kick this off as god [tom] intended when he created blogging, other than the fact he might get to read a few secret confessions of the girls he went to high school with of course, i'm a little miserable just now, y'know it goes without saying that i'm woe, but y'know, i reckon i could even be described as 'blue', and i'm not a smurf, though i do still think smurfette is hot. 

If i was 14-19 year old girl i'd claim i had SAD in a desperate attempt to live life like the magazines and blame my mood on chemicals rather than reality. But as we all know 90% of people who claim this are undiagnosed and simply attempting to glamourise the rather mundane human emotion of sadness. So i won't, my current rather minorly deflated mood is down to the more conventional causes of long days and empty heart, y'know, like every one else.

Anyway, the point in this isn't to whinge and moan about the soulessness of my existence, i know bad news sells, but i don't wanna sell bad news...erm.. baby. No, i want to sell encouragement. When you're feeling a little under the weather you're more sensitive to the little things that make you happy, like the other day when i did a poo and it made the shape of a smiley face in the bowl, that was most excellent, but more accurately the way people treat you when they don't have to.

I'll explain, i went shopping today, now it's a saturday, it's december, understandably everyone i encountered was acting like a cunt, and there were hundred of them, shop assistants with no smiles, grunts from strangers, people pushing in and out of queues, y'know, normal human behaviour. So when a checkout girl makes the effort, despite what has clearly been a long day of constant serving to stuck up middle class women in neutral colours, to smile, say hello, engage in pleasent conversation while the purchases are going through, it's like a hole opens up in the sky and a beam of heart warming sunlight shines down upon all the people in range, or more accurately, y'know, it' cheers you up a little.

Of course it helped the she was hot.

But the long and the short of it is, i feel better, and now i'm in the frame of mind to be pleasent to anyone i happen to encounter today.. thus perpetuating the chaos effect of good humour.

This little story was brought to you with an appeal, if you work in the service industry at all this weekend, do it with a smile, ask the customer about themselves or their day, make it your job to put a brief smile on their face.. y'know.. christmas spirit and all.

Holy shit i've turned into a hippy.. i'm off for a bath in bleach.

x

I need your help Mr Simpson

weeeeeeeeeeeoooooooooooooeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeooooooooooooooooooeeeeeeeeeoooSTOP
weeeeeeeeeeeoooooooooooooeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeooooooooooooooooooeeeeeeeeeoooSTOP
weeeeeeeeeeeoooooooooooooeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeooooooooooooooooooeeeeeeeeeoooSTOP
weeeeeeeeeeeoooooooooooooeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeooooooooooooooooooeeeeeeeeeoooSTOP
weeeeeeeeeeeoooooooooooooeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeooooooooooooooooooeeeeeeeeeoooSTOP
weeeeeeeeeeeoooooooooooooeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeooooooooooooooooooeeeeeeeeeoooSTOP

i'd been asleep 4hours

weeeeeeeeeeeoooooooooooooeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeooooooooooooooooooeeeeeeeeeoooSTOP
weeeeeeeeeeeoooooooooooooeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeooooooooooooooooooeeeeeeeeeoooSTOP
weeeeeeeeeeeoooooooooooooeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeooooooooooooooooooeeeeeeeeeoooSTOP
weeeeeeeeeeeoooooooooooooeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeooooooooooooooooooeeeeeeeeeoooSTOP
weeeeeeeeeeeoooooooooooooeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeooooooooooooooooooeeeeeeeeeoooSTOP

i just wanted to die

weeeeeeeeeeeoooooooooooooeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeooooooooooooooooooeeeeeeeeeoooSTOP
weeeeeeeeeeeoooooooooooooeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeooooooooooooooooooeeeeeeeeeoooSTOP
weeeeeeeeeeeoooooooooooooeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeooooooooooooooooooeeeeeeeeeoooSTOP

it was 11.05am, i should have been at work 5minutes ago and i was being forced away from the sweet sweet embrace of unconciousness by the slight noise of the fire alarm going off... it had already been doing this for over an hour.. and would contunie for the 35more minutes i pressed snooze for, with only a brief respite of 7minutes during which i mananaged to dream of cheese, it wasn't the most memorble of dreams, or even the most interesting of topics, but dammit i had a deep attachment to every second of it before

weeeeeeeeeeeoooooooooooooeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeooooooooooooooooooeeeeeeeeeoooSTOP

of course if we lived in a world that actually worked the first sign of this noise would have inspired myself and everyone else in the apartment block to walk briskly but calmly into the car park wearing only what they happened to have on... which would have admittedly been cold.. but most something of a treat... obviously though this didn't happen, as our world is broken, the alarm was uniformly ignored and we all just lay around muttering under our breath vague threats against unclear authority figures and then went to work tired

the rest of the day passed in the way in which we are all accustomed, waiting for something to beep, swearing, then doing whatever needs to be done to stop it beeping

until the wonderous fates looked down upons me briefly but kindly with the most wonderful of natures miracles.. unexpected, unseen, simpsons. i nearly wept.

now we have reached that 8pm precipice where a free night hangs before us and the daily decision must be made.. roper, or internet?

answers on a postcard

May be second best but life is never fair.

because you're all just gasping to know.. i went and got the tree, and some lights, i didn't even mention it to my little brother who lives in my flat rent free, never mind re-launching the debate... that's just the kind of guy i am, impulsive, commanding, a veritable golden god! send me to iraq, i'll have everyone christmas tree'd up within a week, whether they like it or not, and they will be happy.. truly happy

the micro-world in which i inhabit is a tense one at present, the bigger picture is probably also tense, it usually is, but newspapers angry up the blood aand the news on tv clashes with simpsons, so it's a distinct possibility that everything outside my line of vision was reduced to nuclear oblivion months ago.. the only evidence i have to the contrary is the people around the world that still seem to inhabit cyberspace, though having said that, they seem to be largely candias, and, let's face it, when the world does finally take it's rightful place as atomic dust, the only way that anyones gonna blast canada is if they were aiming for the US and missed... or more likely, that the US were aiming for pretty much anywhere but in their sweaty palmed eagerness to push the button forgot to re-target the missiles from that time they were having that drunking joke at the office party

but erm.. yeah, everyone seems kind of tense around here, distracted tense, obviously the impending days of good will to all and of course, seeing your relatives, is enough to give the best of us the mental equivalent of piles, but it seems a little worse right now.. i guess the idea that if you don't find the perfect present for your current regular naked chum will look at you like you are hitlers ugly sibling and run off with that funny looking kid who sweats a lot, causes a little brain badding, but i it would be really nice to walk into a room, which contains other people, just once this week and not get the overwhelming urge that most of them are just looking for an excuse to smack you in the nadgers simply to release some of the feelings inside them they don't understand... it's like the whole world is going through pubert again

single people seem to be the worst, of course, single people are always the worst, because they are not complete and balanced like what couples are, couples who exude nothing but warmth and happiness and make everyone around them feel like bunny rabbits are dancing in their heart, let's take aa moment to think about how wonderful couples are

...

but yeah, single people, it's like the 24th december holds up the great big red shining deadline that says.. if you are still single by this day.. you have failed this year and will have to repeat it, and of course all year you'll feel like a fool because everyone else in the year is younger than you, and when they look at you the respect:pity balance will be tipping into the less ego boosting zone, so of course all the single people go out every single night in the hope that the vodka soaked rooms they've inhabited all year have presently become vending machines of mr/miss rights where they will meet the the yin to their yang and spend the rest of days curled up in front of fires on deep rugs feeding each other cherries and talking about how they will soon open up a sweetshop in a little village just outside smiletown and sell candy hearts to the other couples who live close by causeing the sky above their houses to constantly light up with a pastel shaded rainbow

of course all that is really acheived is that these places are filled with dark airs of desperation and fear... and of course their natural partners paranoia, insecurity and distrust.. all of which make for fun fun and a bit more fun

FUCKING BLOC PARTY! if i ever meet them i'm gonna smack them in both ears with a fucking cuckoo and ask them how they like having their ear drum assaulted without warning. recording your album at a higher volume that everyone else.. kids today have no respect.

x

We expected great things from you.

it's been ages since i blogged, i honestly thought i had, but i've been doing that thing a lot recently where you're not quite sure which things have happened in real life and which were dreams, it makes life confusing, especially considering i've also been doing that thing a lot where your dreams are filled with fantastic terrors, you know, the ones where you wake up suddenly to find your body shaking a little and the overwhelming sense that you're not quite as alone as you should be [of course that could be the whispering ghost].. but anyway, the two things mix a little unfortunately when you catch yourself pausing mid-dunk of biscuit in tea gripped with the horrific recollection of murdering a 14th century baker, or having a machismo driven one up-up-man-ship session with jack that led to you both cutting out your own livers to prove how much of a man you are. Of course a glance around the room is enough to remind you that you are neither in the 14th century, or sawyer from lost, and the only real tragedy is that you now have soggy biscuit floating in your tea.. which IS a tragedy, the adult equivelent of a child dropping his ice-cream on the floor, and one that has been known to cause tears on many occasions

so i'm writing, as blogs are often written, while i wait for a hangover to subside and hope that i didn't offend or upset a friend with irresponsible words, or worse, make myself known as more of a tit than i would normally deem acceptable titdom. i understand i'm hoping against hope, as i've met me when i'm drunk, and i really am an unquestionable pillock.. which i'm not over the moon about, but i'm willing to live with, as underneath it all pretty much every living soul in the world has the capacity to be a proper pillock, and celebrates this capacity on regular enough occasions.. whether they've spent the evening poisoning themselves or not.. and at least it's better than the old school drunkeness that invariably led to tears and on one occasion a 20minute session interogating a friend aas to why they weren't crying? they said they had no reason to cry and this didn't make any sense at all in my head.. turns out i was crying because Halloween H20 had the wrong girl from Dawsons Creek in it on that occasion.. see, there is always a reason to cry

though i haven't cried whilst drunk for many moon, i fear this means i've become a *shudder* happier individual.. the very thought brings a fear to my soul.. happy? no, i'm neither simple or senile, i think it's just that my insides have stopped producing fuid.. i can't be sick either.. which is a concern

anyway this isn't medical monthly so maybe we should move on

hair straighteners are impossible to use on yourself... impossible

well done for reading this far.. but seriously.. why?

seen as you got here though, you can help me settle an argument with my brother.. we're getting a christmas tree for the flat, it's the first time i've had one in years, partly because the first time i got a christmas tree for my own flat was with a friend who's far away now and i fear seeing one everyday might make me a little sad, but mostly because the last time i got one i discovered it actually impossible to get pine needles out of certain types of carpet and i couldn't walk round in barefeet again till i moved out of the flat, and the landlord had to replace all the carpets on the stairs, yet never mentioned it to me, which is shocking considering the very obvious trail of needles to my flat door.. he was a nice man.

anyway.. yeah... my brother insists that a tree should not be purchased, ereceted and applied with decor until "mid-december", but i figure it's fine to get one now.. the christmas lights are up, the shops are staying open late and i fully expect my mother will be blessing me with a chocolate filled advent calender the next time i see her as she allows me so kindly to cling to that last vestige* of childhood.. so, it's ok yeah? yeah?

thankyou, come again!

*i have no idea what the word vestige means... none at all

Bump

So I do what I planned and I go to the random word generator and challenge myself to write something not entirely sleep inducing about whatever word it spits out. Maybe i’ll have to write about some form of food, or an activity that i’ve done in the past, maybe i’ll really luck out and get a big topic that i’ve spent a lot of time thinking about, like love, or hope, or even bridges.

’Bump.

There it is, the minute the page loads up, ‘Bump’.

Right. Well..erm.. yeah.

Now for some reason all that settles into mind is Mr Bump, a childhood favourite for me as I recall, after Mr Tickle of course, who could get his own breakfast in bed. Maybe it was in the tale of this little blue bandaged sphere that I found the kindling for my great love of schadenfruede. Who can’t be entertained by what is essentially a fat, smurf that walks into things and falls down holes. It’s the learning to read equivalent of watching a toddler drop his ice cream on the floor. Then of course the whole thing goes all Taoist on our backsides when the clumsy critter takes decides to work with, rather than struggle against, his disability, and of course now we’re in the 21st century we can recognise his tendency towards accidental injury as a disability, when back in the 20th century he would simply have been thought of as somewhere between unlucky and foolish. In fact if we think about it nowadays he would be viewed, depending on which newspaper you read, either as somebody with an unfortunate condition that should be understood, treated, and used as an excuse for not doing so well in his GCSEs or as a con man of the highest order with Legal Vultures 4 U on speed dial.

Wait, I did a tangent. Yeah our beach ball shaped chum goes and gets himself a job walking into trees in an orchard and causing the apples to fall down. Now you can call me a monster of you like and set the Society for the Patronisation of Clumsy People on me, but I can’t for the life of me think of a better job than as Security Camera Operator at that orchard. Watching Bumpy go about his daily business, tottering into a tree, falling back on his bum rubbing his forehead as the apple smacks him on the bonce.

I’d never be late for work.

In a week, the world can change

every have one of those days where no matter how hard you dig, you just can't find the enthusiasm for, well.. anything? you know it's the massive perpetual 'to do' list that's causing your head to feel like it's been filled with meringue [and i aways imagine it being squirted from a can through you ear like shaving foam and then solidifying when as it oxydises [i'm sure builders use a similiar product for filling gaps.. insulation like?], anyway.. yeah.. you know it's the list of tasks to complete that's causing the temporary dip from general day to day woe to something more pungent, and you know the best way to fix it is to stop being such a wallowing twat and start ticking off those responsibilities till you're free as lottery winner and thinking straight again.... but really, that all seems like way too much effort, so you take the first opportunity to sit yourself infront of a tv with sugary and salty snacks and a cuppa and close off access to 88% of you're faculties for a while, you feel better but you've really just put it off till the next day

well do you?

there's something else though... jobs, tasks, projects, orderes.. they're all help pass the ticking moments before the fates finally release us onto the steady path to being completely and utterly forgotten.. but sometimes, just sometimes, it's nice to have one that's completion and reletive success isn't judged by a number

i think i've got one, but it's gonna take some incredible self restraint, and i might become a little dull, and i think people will become incredibly suspicious, but, just as an experiment.. i'm going to try this 'being nice to people' thing that everyone raves about.... i tried it once before, for an evening... this time i'm going for the week

it's a long time since i said anything nice... wish me luck

sometimesitsbetternottostickbitsofeachotherineachotherforeachother

i was awoken a couple of mornings ago by somebody whisper-shouting [you know exactly what i mean, don't play stupid] my name

which considering i was completely alone in a flat surrounded by over a foot of concrete on all sides and double glazed windows..

..quite freaked me out

of course, i went back to sleep for about 4 hours.. why live in the world when you can live in your head etc.. but still, a bit freaky

i've just finished watching the 1st series of lost, but i'm not gonna talk about the programme, because there's little more boring that other peoples tv activities, apart from other peoples emotions of course... but yeah anyway, it got me thinking about the tv series as an artform, or not even that, just as a task... from my limited understanding of any worthwhile art/media/entertainment.. one of the few foundation factors which make it 'good' are that every part of the piece has been thought through and specifically chosen.. nothing is happenstance.. for instance in a painting not only has the subject and it's intended meanings been thought of, but each colour and shade has been picked consciously, the style, type of paint, brush strokes.. etc etc.. it's all deliberate. same with a song, not just the music itself, but the sounds of the individual instruments, the style of performance, the words, blah blah blah... the creator of the piece , or creators, have managed developed a complete article of which every part was deliberate and under their control

now without undermining the talents involved in artforms like painting, music, photography, sculpture etc etc... controlling the whole of any of these can't be anywhere as difficult as controlling moving pictures with sound... film/tv.. where each frame needs to be as thought out as if it was a single photograph, and on top of that music must be added, continuity needs taking care of as well as the massive human resource tasks of dealing with actors and crew... then add time, technical and financial constraints and i still struggle to believe it's possible to make a feature film which isn't flooded with basic flaws

now turn that into a tv series like lost, or alias, or 24, which develops over not a few hours but dozens, created and filmed over years, when the every moment of the story had to be completely developed in advance

it's just mental

that's all i was thinking really

i've had my tea and i'm still hungry.. stupid healthy eating [no. i'm not on a diet, as i'm neither a girl nor an idiot, i just thought it was time i ate something green]

i fear i'm wasting the autumn by being indoors too often

x

Your face or mine?

why must we be forced to suffer these embarrassing school boys who in real life couldn..t get a laugh in a room full of cider filled 14 year olds? I..m watching never mind the buzzcocks, now this has never been a piece of priceless programming but at least under mark lemar it wasn..t uncomfortable to watch.. who..s this new kid? You can see the embarrassment on the face of the captains and contestants as he spouts is pre-teen cringeworthy bottom vomit. He..s almost as bad as that topman indie boy prick that channel 4 seem to think was worth a job on big brother and worse, presenting some big deal show [probably awards]

I use these brackeds [] by the way, not because I don..t understand life but because my NINE key is broken, if I want to print the numeral between 8 and 10 I have to find it written down and copy and paste.. it..s a ball ache

But yeah, these twelth rate ..comedic presenters.. who gave them jobs in the first place, worst still, who keeps giving them jobs.. I mean for heavens sake.. jimmy carr exists.. . ah jimmy.. how I wish they..d bring back ..your face or mine.., even more so how I wish they..d franchise it to the student unions so I can go see a bunch of hormone driven mentally undeveloped couples ripped apart live every week [actually.. that righting you just read.. that..s me copywriting that idea.. I..ll be ringing the union tomorrow! Oh jesus, I think I..ve found my destiny. There really has never been a more glorious invention.. dear boy, here is your current girfriend.. here is your ex.. for £300 who do you think the audience has voted as prettiest.. and for another £300, your girlfriend, or her best friend? I nearly cried with glee every single show.. absolutely mindblowing genius! I..ve got goosebumps a little just thinking about it.. or is it because I left the windows open? I guess we..ll never know, one of life..s great mysteries

The police helicopter is outside again, I..m beginning to think they just like to look at me in my shorts. Cos really, if you stole a car you wouldn..t want to be driving it round here.. the programming of the traffic lights is awful.. you..d be caught in no time.. though it would be a comedy chase, with chaser and chasee getting stopped at separate lights, driving round in circles always in sight but never quite able to be together.. like those old comedy sketches with a bunch of doors that people keep popping in and out of.. you know the ones

Oh lord beyonce..s reading of the idiot boards is awful, and she don..t even got boobs, awards shows have really gone downhill since I were a kid

Todays been a strange day, another cold crisp winters day, when all I really wanted to do was walk around, either with headphones on or with someone fun, enjoying being outside, people watching, taking in the scenary, getting slightly covered in that really light rain. But I haven..t, and I can..t really put my finger on why, I had the freedom to do it.. tis the price of laziness I guess

Oh.. I found out you can go skiing, on mountains.. in SCOTLAND! 2 hours from Edinburgh.. if I wasn..t so woe I..d express joy at this, now there is a real holiday I want to go on.. 3 days skiing, 3 days in the edinburgh winter.. maybe through a couple of star27 gigs onto the end of it.. early 2007 is gonna see at least one week in paradise

We..re booked into London at the end of January too.. so there..s a weekend really exploring the capital on the cards, maybe even spending an evening with a best friend.. that time off I..ve been promising myself looks set to be gaining a purpose

It..s good to have things to look forward to, tomorrow is pretty scary when tomorrow looks set to be the same for as far ahead as you can see, I..ve been thinking a lot recently about the addiction of possibility.. how I, and many people I know, spend every night either out in pubs/clubs or logged on.. why.. because both those things give the possibility that within 5minutes almost anything can happen.. it won..t of course, we all know that life is just step after step of predictability and repetition which will slowly but surely destroy us all from the inside out.. but y..know, possibility.. it has quite a lure.

Myspace isn..t gonna let me post this now.. I sent a message earlier and it kept coming back with error messages, so I tried again and again.. turns out every single attempt was actually successful.. so some lucky person has the same message from me about 12 times

Ah well, was fun while it lasted

In the Wintertime

people go nuts for the summer, with the heat and the brightness and the lack of clothing.. but as we all know to be true, people, in the main, are idiots

but really days like this that are the real treats, crisp, dry, and just cold enough to remind you that you're warm blooded, days when it starts to get dark around 4pm (everything is better in the dark), days that make you just want to walk around all day and all night, in town, in the country, in parks in town, near water, up stairs, sitting on walls, days that make little things seem that much better, or easier to take, things like traffic and walking with the music turned a little lower on your headphones so you can hear the noise of the traffic over it, physical contact with another human being, a warm drink outside, lights - in general, coming in and turning the lights on, the pogues.. hell, even keane, moving between pubs to feel the contrast of warmth and cold, watching a sport or an outdoor play with a pie

even the fact that the electrician LIED to you when he said he'd fixed the heaters, so you'll find yourself sat here freezing later on... but that's ok cos under the stairs there's an old electric fan heater you bought for the old flat

of course... i'm neither a girl, or JD from scrubs.. so all that up there, i'd never write, you must of imagined it, wishful thinking? being that i'm more of a dr cox what i actually wrote was something about what absolute bastards everyone is and how there is no such thing as an non-selfish human act (there isn't).. so i don't know what you've read.. but it wasn't this.. 

man you're an idiot!

woe x

Happy shopper

i'm gonna open a shop.. it'll be called.. clothes for men

it'll have huge signs over each section - jeans, trousers, shirts, t-shirts, jumpers, undies - in each section will first be a set of rows of bog standard stuff... plan coloured jumpers, normal blue jeans, black boxers.. you know.. the stuff boys actually want to buy... then there'll be other rows with the less plain stuff.. y'know for gays and girlfriends to buy from

it'll be fucking paradise

none of this primark.. you have to walk right up to the table to find out these jumpers have bits of t-shirt stitched in them (if i want to look like i have a t-shirt under my jumper.. i'll wear a t-shirt under my jumper), or that the genes have marks on them like some retard work experience kid spilt bleach on them (i'm quite enough of a retard to do it myself thankyou).. it makes me sad

so very very sad

Well I can't really dance but baby won't you dance with me

i don't think there's any real point to this blog (is there ever) but if i don't get it out of my head i'll never sleep

we all have recurring dreams, well i do anyway.. well ok i have two, but one i've probably talked about before because it's everynight, about 10mins after i go to sleep.. the one where i'm incapacitated in a way i can only describe as 'drunk but no drunk' my head is totally clear and i'm usually very aware of what is going on around me, which is almost always threatening, or at least requiring urgent action, but i have little or no control over my body, including all limbs, head and, usually, voice. so i wrench myself awake and then have trouble getting back to sleep for a bit

but that's not the one on my mind.. this one always involves a house, or more accurately, upstairs in a house.. sometimes it's up a grand set of stairs, sometimes it's through a loft... i think this comes from when as a kid my gran lived on the ground floor of a 3 story flat, when the lady upstairs died we got access to the previously forbidden world of the higher too floors.. which were much bigger than i'd ever imagined

the bigger things important, because in the dream this upstairs section is always unfeasibly large... one time it was an abandoned nightclub/rollerskating rink which had another floor that was a luxury open air flat, another time it was floor upon floor of a huge dark, cobwebbed, of which one floor was of course haunted, or home to some kind of hellish creature, making it all the more enticing.. but it was filled.. cluttered.. with stuff, facinating stuff, old furniture, utensils and implements, a real treasure trove.. apart from the fact that most things were too big to remove (this particular building was accessed as you would a loft through a hole in the ceiling.

common features everytime are that i'm always rediscovering the building, that is in any one dream i will always glaze over my personal introduction to to it and then dream in more detail about how i am showing it to somebody else, though that person never actually enters the building so while i feel i am showing them it, i am infact just wandering round on my own

another common feature is that these buildings are always either made of wood.. or cut roughly from stone, cave like but with the features of a buidling made from modern materials... and example once being sun loungers cut from a single rock

well there we go, that's out of my head and i feel much better... tomorrow is sunday, a whole 24hours off work... here's to hoping it brings something new and interesting

Friday afternoon

so, i forced myself out of bed at crazy-o-clock (read.. 12) in order to make the most of the day off before this evenings work. the flat is tidy, or at least the room in in is, which is all that really counts, does anyone care about what they can't see.. well nuerotics i guess, and blind people, and maybe people in the dark... speaking of the dark, i hard proper horror film nightmares last night.. the kind when you start screaming in your unconciousness and wrench yourself awake (i feeling similar, i would imagine, to pulling your head out of a tar pit while drunk), and when you've finally lifted up your 20stone highlids and focused on the empty room you quickly realise you're a 28year old man and pray to heaven that the screamin gwasn't so outload that either your brother downstairs or your neighbours could hear.. after a few minutes nobodies come running so you were either silent or nobody gives a shit about your well being so you try and get back to sleep with a new found loneliness in your heart

where was i? right yeah, the rooms tidy and the washing machine is pissing me off so that must be working, i've finished the flyer i spent all yesterday at work staring blankly at without inspiration.. it's not gonna change the world, but it's good enough

most importantly i've had me self confidence totally and utterly destroyed by arcade games, it's been years since i was a computer games geek and i'd forgotten the crushing dissapointment and violent mood swings that can be cause when some fucking set of computer generated pixels makes you repeatedly look like a chump

those little hexagons, they think they're so smart with the duplicating and leaping, i can see them laughing at me as my bits of red dissapear, all sat around in their little cyber room snorting 'that russ again, what a spastic, i'm gonna make him think he's winning, give him a tiny little thrill, then i'm gonna smack him round the head with my mighty powers, reckon we can make him cry guys? i reckon so.. here.. take that you tall human twit!

and the ghosts, ganging up on my little pacman, they don't play fair.. 4 of them, only one pac man.. bullies, that's what they are, you think i could sue them for emotional damage. who invented pac man? i reckon i have a case.. no win no fee blame society that destroys all sense of responsiblity, forgiveness and community spirit? give me a ticket!

you try so hard not to be woe, to be the shining beckon of optimism against seemingly insurmountable opposition.. and this stuff keeps kicking you

it's a cruel world

I poked myself in the eye with my own hair

now my eye hurts

The diary of a hangover

so thursday night i managed to get drunk, and not just get wobbly, say something stupid, text an ex, have a headache in the morning drunk, but the more severe kind of gaps in the night, definatley did something to offend someone, hoping everyone i know is still speaking to me, my wallet was completely empty when i got home kind of drunk, oh and of course.. worst of all, i danced, enthusiastically.

not that i'm complaining about this, i mean, of course every moment was hideous, unbearable, empty suffering and woe.. as is life, but in relative terms, i had a good time as i believe, and so far.. nobody has hit me, so. 

however everyone gets drunk, and there's nothing more tedious than reading about other peoples nights out on the internet, what is always a pleasure to hear about though, is of course, the suffering, the following days.. the hangover

now i'm one of these people who believes the best way to kill a hangover is to sleep through it, this deals with a lot of the physical sides to it, sleep till you physically can't sleep anymore, get up, poop, maybe do a bit of sick, clean your teeth and you start to feel almost alive again (if one of course, can ever feel truly alive when we are all so dead inside).. but the physical side of a hangover is the same as having flu.. and i think we'd all be happy never to have to hear anybody whinge about having flu ever again.. WE DON'T CARE! JUST PISS OFF SNOTTY.

the real fun part of the hangover is the misery, they say alcohol is a depressant and lord are they right, the only thing worse for the ego is being booted in the balls by a girl in front of everybody you know.. erm.. i would imagine.. *cough* so we have about 24hours of complete self-doubt, of course coupled with THE FEAR (what did i do? do they hate me now? is this gonna look bad on my cv? should i have given more money to charity? where the hell is my sock? how can i live with only one sock? oh my god their gonna have to amputate!)

this then passes into the introspective part of the hangover, you've rationalised everything 700 times and decided that, after all, you can't have done anything that bad or you'd have had a date with either pc plod or a baseball bat.. or at very least somebody will have put something on the internet on which devil horns and/or a tiny penis had been added to a photo of you and the words LOL used somewhere, but you're ego is a needy bastard and you're not satisfied with simply 'getting away with it' no.. you're little bastard of an ego has one question.. which it keeps repeating, in song, like an annoying child until you're stood holding a kitchen knife in one hand, a book on anatomy in the other hand screaming WHERE ARE YOU YOU BASTARD I'M GONNA GET YOU SO BAD! 

ahem

that question us of course, 'am i a bad person?'

now we're all human so everybodies answer to that question is inevitable. 'of course i am, i'm not fit to walk the earth, they should wrap me up in a soggy rug and hide me in a freezer till the develop 'good person' serum' - of course as well, being human, we've by now lost all grip on any specific faults brought up by the said night out at the evening box social where there was jovial banter, friendly games of cards and perhaps a waltz - so our self doubts are shot from all over the place.. i don't eat well, i never exercise, my house is a mess, i have no purpose, my life is a waste, will i ever love again, why can't i find that damn sock

so here comes the productive part of he hangover, in a desperate attempt to fix EVERYTHING with the lease effort possible, a jolt of motivation will make you set about a full spring clean, at least 2 meals that aren't fried and 50 press ups... that'll do, the wasted non purpose life and need for love will save, and it's best not to think about the sock.

then of course this being 2006, we'll blog about it, so everybody can join in our meaningless lives and share in our woe.

(sorry to anyone i offended on thursday)

Does liking Lily Allen make me gay?

there's been one of those 'girlfriend/boyfriend application forms' going round the bulletins today, y'know the ones that ask the most vacuous questions like height, weight, hair/eye colour, really?! i honestly couldn't tell you with any confidence the hair or eye colour of any girl i've ever been out with.. these things are clearly designed by some girl learning in typical 'just17' fashion how to be a better strumpet by adusting those details that a boy will never notice, blimey, they'll be asking about shoe type next.. why would you ever look at a girls feet? seriously, even if she's 25stone with a face like a mole there's gonna be something more interesting to look at than her feet (actually if she's 25stone chances are she can't see her feet either so shoes would be less of an issue..which is always a bonus).. when a girl walks into a room, you know what i see? shockingly.. a girl.. a collective lump of femininity.. not a miss potato head style ensemble of lips, ears and plucked eyebrows, you obsess over the details, i'll deal with the whole

what was i talking about.. how yeah.. girlfriend applications.. why do the never ask the good questions (incidentally after a quick search the best i found was this effort by brody vercher which at least made me giggle - oh and anyone who fills it in completely wins a lollypop for effort) but yeah, good questions like:

1) ok so you're mental, this is a given.. but how mental? will you make me want to kill us both on a weekly, daily, or hourly basis.

2) have you ever made a decision.. in your life? cos otherwise that's gonna send me fruity

3) have you already decided i'm cheating on you.. or will that come later?

4) does 4mins sound like a reasonable amount of time for sex to last?

5) do you understand why john waters is a genius?

you know.. the important stuff.

it's amazing what internet quizzes can teach us, i discovered the other day i was a buddhist, it wasn't such a huge shock, buddha after all is comedy fat.. and when alls said and done the nobel truths make sense.. 'life is suffering'.. well, of course. 'the cause of suffering is desire'

i'm bored of typing

I got out of the habit of doing these

so yeah.. magnets? just lumps of metal that attract other lumps of metal, made by hitting bits of metal with other bits of metal really hard while the first bit of metal is pointed in a certain direction, and they also point in certain directions.. it just doesn't make sense

and what's the connection between gravity and magnets.. i sit the same thing? i'm not metal but i stick to the ground (which isn't metal), and apples definatley aren't metal

none of it makes sense at all... 

you can tell it's been a long week when you come to update your real-time autobiography for the first time in ages and all you can think to talk about is physics

truth is it's been a very functional week, a list of definate tasks which took no real creativity and just a lot of 'being there' followed by sleeping and repeating, the tasks were fulfilled, and at times even enjoyable, and of course one particular night was incredible in many many ways, but no time given to pause and reflect and think of stuff to say that's been said before in a hundred different ways but at least this time it's in your voice

fortunatley i've been saved by the return of the recurring nightmare, the one that happens 5 minutes after you fall asleep and gathers in intensity until you have to force yourself awake for sanities sake and then have too much adreneline pumping to sleep again for an hour which is great when you only had 5 hours to go at in the first place, but y'know, i like horror films

in 24hours from now i'll have 24hours of freedom, i've made plans to spend them doing a close approximation of what i would ideally do with freedom, i really should get a haircut and do some washing instead

that was fun

Sometimes, just sometimes, the woe is away.

the last 6 days have knocked me for six a bit, 7 days ago i got a real kick in the balls, and i say that not in a judgemental way, from the right perspective everything anyone ever does is the right thing, but from my own point of view it was a definate wound to the nadgers

everyday since then so many people have been so fantastic, i kinda feel guilty for being a bit of a dick most of the time, and tonight.. well... tonight was something really special

so i owe heartfelt thankyou to a lot of people and i intend to dish them out, but just incase my emotionally retarded englishness prevents it being obvious, if you're reading this, i probably owe you thanks.. so thanks

on another note, i've been thinking about magnets alot this week.. magnets are mental aren't they?

x

It's good to talk

you know those days where the minute you open your eyes and begin to absorb the world you already know you've made a mistake, that mid-range squeeling feeling just above your stomach just seems to be chanting the words 'this, my friend, will not be your greatest day'

it did, in fairness, take a while for this day to confirm its inevitable colours, but it did it in style

i was scared by my own reflection in the wardrobe mirror, i jumped maybe 2 inches

now don't get me wrong, i don't mean scared in a 'oh my god i'm so hideously ugly i'm never leaving the house' (somebody was telling me they had days like that the other day, my semi-dead memory won't let me remember who but it will remind me that my thought in response was along the lines of 'don't be fucking ridiculous, have you ever seen yourself, you'd still look attractive after being beaten about the head by a wallaby for 3 hours, even on your worst days you are exactly 7.643 times more attractive than i am on my best' obviously me being me i didn't say that, i more likely said something like 'yeah.. i can see that' because.. y'know.. that's funnier.

what the hell was a saying, oh yeah, i didn't jump at the reflection due to my cockeyed eyes, bean shaped head and teeth that look like stone henge.. over the years i've developed ways of coping with that, obviously these ways largely feature pointing out the falts in others wrapped up in bitter jokes until they find themselves crying at home but still not being able to hate me because.. y'know.. it was funny.. but that's an aside.. the point is that i wasn't scared like that

no

i decided to check my hair or something in the wardrobe mirror.. so i began to move in front of the wardrobe (believing the door, on which the mirror is places, was closed) turns out the door/mirror/thing was more than slightly ajar and thus my reflection appeared earlier than expected, my brain screamed "who the fuck is that in my room.. eep!" and i jumped. similar to that time the corner of my eye saw a burglar backflip though a 1st floor window at band practice

it was pretty scary

THEN

as i left the flat (oh darling, it's an apartment), the flat, i scurried down the fire escape (it's quicker than the real door) and prompty bashed the crown of my head on the low ceiling which i swear did not exist yesterday. it still hurts.

THEN

to put this into context first, i've been sat at home all day, the weather outside has been beautiful and dry, i only had to go outside once today.. a 15minute walk, drop something off, 15minutes back.. easy as pie.. so, at the exact point at which i am the furthest away from home as i possibly can be, with just the walk back.. the heavens open, the downpour begins.. fantastic!

i had to buy a box of roses and a magazine featuring imogen in her underwear to cheer me up.. it goes without saying that it turns out that imogen, like 90% of girls, looks better with clothes on... another dream destroyed

so now i refuse to move from this sofa without a helmet and full length waterproof jacket till another dawn has passed

people traditionally define life as a series of first.. first kiss, first sex, first love, first paycheck, first heart attack.. that kind of stuff, but really these moments mean very little in the great scheme of things.. there are other moments.. real epiphany moments that define who we are and the path we take for the rest of our lives

you following? mm, maybe a couple of examples

i'm in an adventure playground, with roundabouts, and rope slides, and monkey bars and i dunno, all kids of junk that kids love (and we still would now if they let us on) and i'm climbing the ladder to the rope slide... the minute my hands touch the handlebar things i start thinking about how cool it would be to be on the monkey bars and how i can't wait to do that next BANG.. life isn't about enjoying moments, it's about ignoring moments while you think about whats next... what a shitter.

another one.. mm.. that moment when you first realise that the way you think you look and sound, that image in your head that is more likely based on some tv or film character than any kind of evidence from reality, is not what other people see or hear when they look at you.. that's a bit of a kick in the fruity bits

and the other obvious one.. the moment you realise your parents, just like everyone else, have faults.. and on occasions, are dicks. y'know, the same way everyone is a dick sometimes (most times), the people you trusted as shining examples of perfect human beings are fundamentally flawed, which of course means that you are too

there will be more, and they will come to me and keep me awake at night

ah yes.. like the moment natalie something or other in ibiza sent everyone away but asked me to stick around in a little alcove and i got shy and ranaway.. it was months later it dawned on me that that was supposed to be my first kiss.. and she was really hot too. arse biscuits

no, that's probably just a regret.. who knows

woah! weird science is on!!

p.s. do you think the girl from granthams will marry me if i ask real nice and don't fart when i'm in the shop anymore?

If I hadn't seen such riches I could live with being poor

"Terminate torment Of love unsatisfied The greater torment Of love satisfied" that nice mr elliot

we're all spoiled, the more we get the more we want, the grass is always greener and the first fix is free, familiarity breeds contempt and routine leads to boredom

we're left with 2 choices as far as i can see it.. 

quickly carve yourself a happy little rut framed by the received tokens of success, the career, the lover, the appearance of popularity... then spend the rest of your days driving yourself completely insane with the fear that these things will be taken away from you, trying too hard to control what you can't control and inevitably driving wedges in the cracks (that would have appeared and grown all by themselves anyway, so don't add guilt to your problems) and either watching it all shatter before you once you're too old to start again or wear yourself into a shell and spend 30 years going through the motions 

or spend every day running away anything that even indicates a rut forming, only half appreciating everything you have because your eyes are set on the horizon wondering what else is out there, pushing away anything or anyone that is close enough to restrict your options and opportunities, wasting every second looking for a perfection that doesn't exist only realising you have nothing when it's too late to start finding something and the options have all but disappeared

obviously we're all smart people, we all realise the eventual fruitlessness of both options, we don't just blunder into it, it's a conscious choice.. whaat choice have you made? and why? you weighed up the pros and cons and came out with a path.. what tipped the balance?

of course this is the 21st century so we don't have to think about these things.. we have 24hour tv, food that can be delivered to our doorstep and access to limitless free porn

choose life, choose sitting around in your pants getting fat and having a good ol' scratch

i love each and everyone one of your failings

The other life

it's been 8 days of pretending to be in a band as a lifestyle option, it's not glamourous, it's drive, unload, gig, load, drive, sleep, repeat, it's cabin fever, it's sweat, it's discomfort, it's waiting around, walking around, sitting around, being around, considering the needs of other people (i won't say feelings, because, well.. it's me) without ignoring your own desires to the point where you're just going through the motions because that's no use to anybody, it's allowing for the different lifestyles and experiences of others, it's making things run smoothly while still keeping them fun and relaxed, it's getting it wrong, it's tears, it's angry moments, it's harsh words and confrontations, it's waking up in one city and going to sleep in another and never seeing anything other than roads, the insides of venues and darkened rooms full of sleeping bags, it's putting trust in strangers, it's putting faith in yourselves, it's putting your hopes in the hands of crowds, it's finding that fine line, it's being surprised, it's being disappointed, it's being frustrated, it's being elated, it's talking about the future, it's not thinking about the future, it's driving through unfamiliar territory. lost, confused and under pressure, it's losing things you need, it's keeping focused, it's looking for distractions

it's the best way yet that i've found to live life on a day to day basis and i wouldn't swap it for the world, it's missing nothing, having only to think about the task at hand and snatching the fun wherever it presents itself, obviously anything that involves living with other people 24hours a day is a challange, that's why 90 percent of marriages end in divorce (that and of course the fact that love doesn't exist and that people only get married because it's one of criteria which society/history has set for a succesful life, and because they are so utterly afraid of being alone.. but that goes without saying), but.. what was my point? i dunno, i'm sure it was pretty woe though, yeah.. erm.. everythings wow.. that sounds like me

wait

oh yeah, i'm enjoying myself

don't tell anyone

i like the fact that those tiny tight shorts are back in fashion

x

The blog returns, this time is a rehearsal

there is something very wrong with you, and i think you know what it is, it's ok, you'd be boring without it

there's something incredibly stupid about waking up at 2pm when you have a 'to do list' longer than schindler's, but when your new years resolution is not to get out of bed until you are (a) sober and (b) not feeling miserable, it really isn't your fault.. my friend miss buzz buzz returned too, and i felt bad about getting dressed before she was sated.

i bought the trilogy of Final Destination last week, i've attempted now to watch the 1st and 2nd films several times when drunk, i'm not sure if falling asleep each night witnessing gruesome deaths of teenagers on a large projected screen is healthy for my..well.. brain, or is it soul... no can't be, i sold that for coca cola years ago.

everyone seems a little happier recently, well.. clearly there all going home and crying into their pillows screaming "WHY! WHY DOES NOBODY LOVE ME! WHY AM I SUCH A FREAK! WHY CAN'T I JUST DIE" but, you know, they're making more of an effort to hide it in public, so i don't have to deal with it, which is really all that matters. so, yay for people becoming hardened shells!

anyways, this blog wasn't on above mentioned 'to do list' so i should probably stop, i always feel the need to pretend i care about you by asking some form of question.. so erm... 

what exactly is it that is so very wrong with you?

In a place I'd hoped never to return

i'm tired

i'm tired and i'm in the village

i'm tired and i'm trapped and i'm in the village

i'm tired and i'm trapped and i'm at work for 48hours straight and i'm in the village

i've had 4 hours sleep

i shortly have to go drinking in a place where i may bump into *shudder* old school 'friends'

i think perhaps i am the unluckiest person in the universe, the world is so cruel to me, why must i suffer so, why can't i be dead, mother always told me if i talked to pretty girls i'd end up suffering.. damn mother!

has anyone seen todays NME?

I HAVEN'T!

life.is.hard.

i'm now going to have a shower in my free hotel room to get ready for my night of free drinks in the summer sun of the beautiful countryside and free restaurant food, and free double hotel room bed just for me

woe.is.me.

How long has it been since I blogged?

who knows. no internet at home is a ball ache, i've found myself going to work n days off just to keep up with stuff.. not good, not at all

of course, over a week in i remember that dial up exists.. i'm slow, but i get there in the end

my 'o' key is steadily dying, it'll be gone soon, it's so lucky

everybody is going insane this week, i think maybe the sun is baking everyone's brains, perspective has gone right out of the window, problems are being created where problems do not exist, people are screaming at each other, crying, going red, heads are exploding all around us, i think i saw someone poking themself in the eye

i mean, i, of all people, understand the endless horror of being alive and having to interact each day with the hideous lumps of ridiculousness that are other human beings, life is a farce, disney filled us with so many unacheivable pressures & expectations to last through this life and the next without ever cracking a genuine smile for more than a few seconds at a time, and we do ourselves the massive favour of reminding each other of our failures to live up to these on a basis so regular we don't even notice it anymore

but why make it harder? why look for problems that simply don't exist? why lash out when there is nothing to be acheived by this than to cause someone else to strike back? why analyse a situation until we've extracted every grain of doubt and distates?

i realised recently i haven't had a raised voice argument with anyone.. well.. in years, and the only explanation i can find is that i simply can't find the energy to care about any of the meaningless crap that people argue about.. of course the downside to this is that i similarly can't find the energy to care about any of the meaningless crap that people talk to each other about.. so i'm a bit of a waste at parties.

poop, i'm gonna clean myself then go drink beer, look at boobs, and not get annoyed at anything.

the public diary of russell carlton age 27&3/4 - day something (they're all the same)

I do not live in spain, or italy, or Greece, or even bloody france. Every day of my life I make the subconscious decision not to get off my lazy fat arse and move away from this miserable little country, and the main reason for this? Temperature thats the deal with England, we agree to smile as we put up with the world owes me attitude of the cant do set, we agree to pay over the odds for taxis on the 300 days a year that it rains, and we agree to live a lifestyle so ridiculously regimented by opening times, traditional routines and licensing hours that we practically have no freedom of movement to relax at all, we agree to watch each new generation become more and more Prime Time American and to only express our dissatisfaction with this in mumbled words and dry humour.. and we agree to all on the condition we dont have to spend 3 months of every year oppressed unbreatheable air in stifling heat causing us to floor our marks & spencers undies with salty beads of perspiration until we all have nappy rash (most undignified in a 20something).

So why are we being cheated in this deal, why am I now 3 days into a sleepless, breathless existence of pure torture, why have I found myself having to take cold showers in the middle of the day just for some relief.

And what makes it worse? In this blame culture of ours.. we still cant sue nature!

Biology and chemistry can fuck off too. 

I dont mind waking up feeling bad when Ive been a prick, consumed more poisoness drinks than I should have and send inappropriate texts to inappropriate girls. But when I do the sensible moderation thing, and look but dont touch, and certainly dont say anything digitally, I feel its unfair that I should awake feeling like death, and steadily feel worse as the day passes. This is what ruins lives.

As does choice.

Bastard choice.

If I could walk into a shop named the curtain shop and say.. I need a rail and curtains to fit a gap THIS SIZE, and the curtain shop man said, here you go.. your standard issue curtains. Right now Id be a happy man with working curtains up. But NO. Some hippy fuck decided to introduce variety and personal choice. So now after two trips to some shop with the word mill in its name, Im 25 quid down, with two useless pairs of curtains and a rail simply hanging naked.. unused! And the knowledge Ill be woken at 4.30am as the ridiculous mediteranian sun come streaming through my unclothed windows.

This would never have happened if it wasnt for those hippy shits.. bring back the noose!

I need a drink. Roper after practice?

Day 3 - In the high ceiling house

I have no internet at home due to it being a new home and despite us living in the 21st century, the age of communication, and even BT managing to pull their finger out of their arse long enough to switch my phone line on (and give me a number very similar to a local taxi rank [11.46pm, thursday night: *ring ring* "hello", "i ordered a taxi about 15mins ago!" "not from me you didn't"] it seems Demon Internet suppliers are too busy downloading dubious pornographic images to type in the appropriate code to allow me to sign in, 7-10 working days? nothing in this life time actually takes that long to achieve.. nothing!

So i've had to rediscover other forms of passing the time.. like showering, and cleaning, and today... folding clothes. It's been quite the rock n roll weekend. 

I should use this blog to spread words of joy about the amazing, space and high ceilings and echo that my new habitat offers, but you don't want to hear about my good day, you want to har about the fact that due to an accident with a deep fryer my car now smells like a mobile chip shop, or due to my infinate clumsiness i spent 40mins of yesterday afternoon on my knees with a dustpan and brush, followed by much of this morning picking tiny shards of glass out of my knees and feet.

i also think i'm allergic to my sofa

i'm considering a house warming, but then i'd have to talk to people.. do you think they'd mind awfully if i just sat on my windowsil hoping nobody asks me anything?

the public diary of russell carlton age 27&3/4 - day 9

i sure do miss that cup of tea

i wonder what became of it? was it drunken by another or just poured away to rejoin the circle of life related liquids. did it's existence end quickly or was it left a while.. until it's componant parts began rejecting each other and the tense tea/milk skin formed above the water to commence the fruitless divorce proceedings that, even if removed from human interuption would never allowed by natures parasites to reach a final seperation

was it just left to go cold and forgotten about like old people...

people keep being friendly with me, i should be pleased, but i am only scared.. and not just because i'm waiting for the punchline which leaves me walking through the playground red faced, muddy-trousered and planning a revenge that will never happen, but because, well.. if people start liking me, then i might start liking them, then i might start being less bitter.. and what then of my personality? what will be left?.. nothing.. NOTHING I TELL YOU!.. just a hole where there was once bile... a space in universe that would once have been filled with woe.. a non-event.. can you live with that on your conscience? can you? no! so next time you plan on being nice to someone, stop, think about what you are doing.. don't be such a selfish twonk.. kick them in the balls and call them ugly.. otherwise you are worse than the plague.. you bastard!

now go to your room, without any supper and think about what you've done

oooo, the Soundtrack from Grease!

the public diary of russell carlton age 27&3/4 - day 8

your poor people nearly didn't get a blog today as i fell quicker than expected into the divine surrender of unconciousness

but i am back to this cursed reality again for a shortwhile so it's treats galore

you know those times in life where your whole being.. time, meaning, existance.. is consumed by one single event.. well today was one of those days

it was an event that proves beyond all doubt that god is dead, and that his ghost still hates me, an event that proves everything i ever believed about the endlessley cruel and futile nature of this life which forces us to wake each dawn and trudge through the impossible pain of each day just to die alone each night. 

sometimes i wonder why i can't find the courage to bring the walls crashing down about me, to make the nightly oblivion into a more constant entity, to trade in this infinate dull pain for something instant and unforgetable and then real emptiness

i mean, i had that cup of tea in my hands.. and had to leave before it was cool enough to drink!

man, life sucks.

the public diary of russell carlton age 27&3/4 - day 7

Years ago my mother used to say to me, she'd say, "In this world, Elwood, you must be" - she always called me Elwood - "In this world, you must be oh so smart or oh so pleasant." Well, for years I was smart. I recommend pleasant. And you may quote me.

Well, I've wrestled with reality for 35 years, Doctor, and I'm happy to state I finally won out over it.

----------------------------------------------

when you wake up with a storming hangover and the terrible fear of what you may or may not have said or done during the missing moments of the previous evening (checked phone sent texts - a minor miracle, nothing to shame me there) there is one thing gauranteed to make it all better.. stumbling accross a film you dearly love... karma today says i'm not such a bad person after all.. and jimmy stewart gently makes my day with a few choice words

added to this last night, i put something together that could very easily have been, from some angles, a dissapoinment... it's hard watching quality bands play to small or disinterested audiences... but, it wasn't.. it was actually a wonderful evening shared with a good number of people... and it didn't stop with the bands... the place i now work is finally becoming the place i always felt it could be

it almost makes up for the set back currently in force on the project closest to my heart

i'm feeling a little too content with everything at this moment, this is dangerous of course, as we speak i can feel the sword of damocles poised to fall, one big crushing blow to punish me for daring to feel comfortable, maybe even a little optimistic... i feel we should open a book on what form this cataclysm will take... answers on a postcard

i wonder if anyone actually reads these, it does seem a strange thing for people to do, then again, people are nosey so & sos

if you do, don't be mistaken by the tone of the above... i'm still woe.. it's just that sunday is a day of rest

the public diary of russell carlton age 27&3/4 - day 6

you might be asking why there isn't a 'day 5'

there is, i'm just not going to tell you about it..so ner

this was going to be a happier blog, but then 45seconds ago i got some shitty news so you've all been saved

hopes are for chumps kids, don't have them

i am the anti-fight club, i'm moving home so my thoughts are clouded with possessions, not many.. a big bed, a big comfy old sofa, the biggest fucking tv my credit card will pay for

i WILL be my possessions

and there's a gym in the apartments.. so i might even try that self-improvement shit

crap.. i'm a 30something.. it's probably better you shoot me now

form an orderly queue

x

(this blog is substandard, normal service will be resumed when i'm less annoyed)

the public diary of russell carlton age 27&3/4 - day 4

so

last night in the early hours i was joined by an unexpected little mattress companion, she rested her tired legs gently on my nose stirring me from slumber, before a quick flap took her onto my cheek where i'm pretty sure she began feeding on my bitter sweet perspiration

had she got her fill and left me to sleep i wouldn't have minded, at least i could wake the next day safe in the knowledge that someone had left my bed fulfilled, but no, miss buzz buzz kept coming back for more and more and more for maybe 2 hours, and not even a cup of tea after. i was left feeling used and with a strange sense of paranoia that removed all but the smallest relief of slumber for the rest of my horizontal time

the sunbleached afternoon began optimistically in the bakery and stayed on good terms until the last bite of the gingerbread man at which point had had a new wheelbarrow of responsibilities popped in my intray to remind me what i am.. 

bullet points of news include

i've been approved for my new flat.. so this time next week i can be contemplating the continual misery of living in slightly more pleasant surroundings (with a slightly worse off bank balance)

star27 are to play in this nations capital for the first time.. i am refusing to forumulate feelings on this as pride always comes before a fall

*looks longingly out of the window at the unforgiving 100watt sky*

what wonders will tonight bring?

x

the public diary of russell carlton age 27&3/4 - day 3

Fucking bloc party! Recording your album so much louder than standard is just rude. Ive a good mind to sue you for hearing damage.

Todays poo index: appearance many nuggets in a thin soup. Frequency 4 so far since 12.30pm. time between waking and first disposal.. 20minutes.

So, last nights time of sweet sweet oblivion was greatly interrupted, the light and the heat bringing me back to reality over and over. I am angry at having the best part of the day peppered with so many moments of hideous awareness, but still nothing can beet that feeling of being conscious and knowing all you have to do is lay back down and drift into wondrous nothingness for a few more hours.

Wednesdays are perhaps my favourite day, largely because they dont start till the afternoon and if I select the correct purchase for breakfast I can spend almost the entire working day eating.

The mechanics of my working day, like those of anyone, are too dull and meaningless (and of course woe) to pass on, but the shining achievement of the past 5 hours was to give a piece of solid advice that will be ignored (but not forgotten, life is too unkind to allow anyone blissful ignorance of their own failings) within hours if not minutes of its being stated. Such is the futility of doing anything. Well, stuff it, let the circle of woe continue, one day well all be so woe well do something about it.. wait.. I wonder if thats what happened to lemmings.

Im currently trying something different. I didnt leave work, go home, de-pant, switch on the tv and start half watching malcolm in the middle repeats while logged in. I bought a bottle of chemicalised water and headed for the park. Im sat amongst trees within view of a river and in that solitude with unlimited possibilities that hippies the century over have seemed so content with,

I itch from top to toe, everything smells faintly of shit and the schoolboy inside me is in fear that bigger boys will throw my laptop in the river. And not one girl in a floaty summery dress has smiled at me. This, people, is why the hippy movement failed. As well as the fact that they didnt eat enough meat, how can anyone have a fulfilled life if they dont cause unthinkable suffering to another living thing on a daily basis? It just makes no sense.

Simpsons is on in 20minutes so Im off home to post this, wash the nature out of my arse crack and email jack white telling him he looks like an otter.

Stay tuned for further self-gratuitous mental vomits.

Stay woe. x

morons blog - day 2 -supplemental

so i went to work... it was a slow start, a very slow start, i was covering the early shift... i played the violent femmes, it cleared the room, people are stupid.. it was all about the emo, seems they're only happy when they are bearing the deep anguish of the exsistance with raised fist and rehearsed dance moves.. a room full of budding actors (actors is a unisex term.. check me out being in the 21st century.. the equality policemen have nothing on me)

they are woe

a room full of mutual woe... what a ridiculous thing

thank the lord for pop music

oh wait.. i'm woe.. shit.. yeah..woe... i went to work and cried all night over the ugliness in all the human interaction i saw.... yeah that's better

much better

woe

the public diary of russell carlton age 27&3/4 - day 2

well, woe, well

as yesterday entered the darkness of night it was as predictable as it could be, disappointment in the national media, disappointment in the availability of beverage choice behind the bar of the yellow place, disappointment that that girls parents let her go out in public in just those pants (kids today!), disappointment in myself that i still remember it

dis - appointment

finalised with unexpected voices from the old days and then the sweet sweet embrace of unconsciousness

the new days peeling was not as severe, perhaps this was to be a better day...

no

the heat was simply waiting in the wings to pound me later

a baron day, a suffocating baron day

i worked, though lack of else to do, i worked through the woe but the woe would not leave, why won't the woe leave me to my own personal peace.. WHY??

it's time for the evening again.. and whatever joys it may hold.. *sigh*

oooo Haribo!

the public diary of russell carlton age 27&3/4 - day 1

today i awoke with the slow disgusting realisation that i while i'd been asleep the world had turned into a giant slow burning oven, i peeled my head from the pillow, my arms from my back and chest and my scrotum from my inner thigh (which tickled a little).. i let my heart fill again with the woe of daily existance and laid staring into the emptyness until my bowels inevitably made it very necessary that i move... and fast!

subitably evacuated i readed myself for work.. at which the stifling heat only served to cook the misery and darkness of my soul to a gentle simmer... not even a bloody proper boil! Even my suffering is mediocre.

After work i went to the bed shop.

it was closed.. i wept softly to myself.

Since then I have been here, contemplating the pointlessness of myself and of moving from the relative safety of my sweat moistened sanctuary, the simpsons as usual made my day worthwhile for moments.. but moments alone.

I will now leave you to wash away the pains of the day (so i have a blank canvass for the pains of the night) and commence my futile listening to lamacq live hoping to hear the evidence that something i contributed to is considered worthwhile.

stay tuned for further tales of glee

everybody else is doing it

woe or horror oh despair ooh misery oh who am i kidding, i'm quite chirpy these days. just feels wrong to be writing a real blog, but it seems to be the fashion (and who am i to go against fashion) so let's give it a try.

diary of russell carlton, aged 27 and a half, thingy measurement.... (is myspace too young for that joke?)
things are.. ok. bands stuff is going really well, 2 gigs next week, then some more not long after, a tour being planned and some other stuff that i don't want to jinx by mentioning.. new songs are great and it's still the most fun ever. work is a challenge but Sat was really good which is a bit of a reward.. could sure use some holiday though (yes i went t berlin last week but thanks to the passport saga i was only there 48hrs so it doesn't count. girl stuff? well i'm single again, had some fun with somone who's become a good friend, but it was a natural end.. see what future holds on that (or just keep waiting for that call from anna faris or katie holmes).. girls give you cooties anyway. the most imortant news is that Pizza Hut have finally figured out where i live.. so pizza only takes 30mins instead of 90now.. the future it seems.. is bright!

my first serious blog.. i feel a little dirty, and of course, woe

God is dead

the last 3 simpsons have all been a bit poor, why must we live in this horror, why! it makes you begin to understand genocide.

Today we made a new world

today i started a new band, we're called My Heart Cry's Emptiness for The Blood is Still Today.. we sat down with our broken old acoustic guitars and wrote haunting bitter-sweet ballads telling tales of the perferations in our hope caused by the countless minor dissapointments that each social interaction brings.. we let out a few weak tears then moved to the electric instruments and got Bob (who once had a holiday in California) in to scream the words with a passion he has nurtured over years of suburban monotony.

we had a long talk about practicing again, and maybe getting a gig, but we all agreed that if our message was to remain pure and meaningful we had to keep it locked away inside ourselves

so we watched Jackass