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?