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