Wolves Riding Bears.

So, my Christmas shopping has been halted. I was expecting to be paid for my new job tonight. However, it's not as simple as that, is it. The retarded cut off date for pay was the 5th of December, and I started working at where I work now (which is Odeon, Wrexham) on the 1st, meaning all my earnings, even the ones before the 5th will be finally given to me next month, which stilts my Christmas present buying. Luckily, I have most, but I'd like to buy more. I tend to like to buy two presents for people, and have been able to for some, but for people like my mum, and elder sister, I haven't been able to afford it. See, my sister's birthday is on Christmas Eve, so two presents are more required for her than anyone. And my grandmother's is on Boxing day, so. And I haven't even managed to afford to get her anything either.

This is really an inconvenience, especially at Christmas time. You would think they would be a bit generous and let me have it early for this month given that it's my first month and it is Christmas.

It's a real shame.

I constantly feel, in many aspects of my life, that I am lowering myself in several aspects of my life, and when I say several, I more specifically mean, too many. It is like I am making do with what I have, despite the clear lack in quality; eventually, after being acustom to that kind of low quality, you eventually misremember what certain feelings and brilliances actually are and you begin to think you feel certain emotions for certain things, because you try and remind yourself that where the bad lies, the good must too somewhere, and you modestly convince yourself that it's you and not the world. But the reality is that you are surrounded by less than brilliant products of reality and you are merely stooping; stooping to exist.
What can you do; opt out of life and not participate? People would think things if you were to do that. Besides, we all have commitments we've constrained ourselves to, each as listless as everything else. To not continue with them would be seen as ridiculous. They are like ongoing train rides; eventually you might end up at a stop that shows promise, but that is a rarity. So you stay on, holding the strap coming from the roof. Eventually, it gets a bit too much and you sit down and immerse yourself in your own self pity, before resigning to rise again. Occasionally you might throw yourself at the door and bang on it and scream "LET ME OUT! PLEASE! I HAVE SO MUCH TO GAIN FROM LIFE!" But the train can do nothing but carry you along and you've got to hope that some day, it'll stop at a stop that you want to go to and you know that you will benefit from. Until then, you will stay on the train.
Stooping. And making do.

I don't know what is wrong with me, or how to fix it. I feel incased in a feeling, a feeling that has knocked me into a state of disorientation so I can't find my way out. Every sentence I write feels like a page long. And yet I can't do anything else. I want to get it out, maybe express how I'm feeling fully, but whenever I try to, I feel so unable and put on the spot. It's terrible.

It's bonfire night. And I didn't do anything. I could've taken photos. What a dullard I am.

Is it pathetic that I'm writing this for no one to read? It never seems to help me any. I just remain the same. Empty, and whining. It makes me sick. Why am I like this? What have I done to end up in this state? covered in grime and depression. I don't understand it. I can't get my head around why my life seems to suck so badly. And compared to others, it probably is quite stupid to even contemplate what I am feeling, but I wish I could drill that into my head. I've tried, but it doesn't seem to work.
I hate my mind. Its weight is huge. It eats away at me, my self esteem, my logic. It feels almost faulty. Like certain aspects aren't on or functioning properly.
I can't have fun.
I can't enjoy sex.
I can't think clearly.
I can't make proper conversation.
I can't decide how I feel about people.
Etc, etc.

What the fuck is doing this to me? I used to think it was fate, pushing down on me. I don't even think that now. I don't even know what I think.

And I have no conclusion.
I hate this. I HATE THIS. I just want to scream at the walls at the top of my lungs with my eyes closed for the longest time possible and I don't want anyone to notice or to worry or anything. I don't want to think.
I don't want to think anymore.

When you're friends with perky people, they generally bitch and gossip about you more than you'd prefer. I have a friend, who will remain nameless, but it's fair to say, his mouth is forever spilling important information that he really shouldn't be telling people. Even to me, which, even though I know I can keep secrets, and wouldn't bitch about a friend, I can tell that if he can just tell me that, he would tell someone else just as easily, and is that person he could be telling reliable? Who knows, but my point is that he's been saying stuff about my private life (and has done for a while) to just his and (I guess) my friends, and I don't think its his place to and then continues to tease me about them. I tell him things because I feel I can trust him, and that he understands me, but clearly, I don't know anyone like that, so I make do with people like him.

And he's the kind of person everyone adores, so you could never NOT be friends with him. And not that I'm complete for that, but the more he does this kind of stuff, the more I just want him to fuck off and never return.

I hate you all. I hate everyone. I hate you. I hate your friends. I hate everyone you know. I hate everyone I know. I hate everything and everyone.

Everything is shit and so is everyone else and I JUST WANT TO DIE.

I'm growing a hatred and a disparaging apathy to everything around me now. I cannot stand or care about a single thing in my life.

My life is pretty much worthless now. It has no perks and I have no sense of fulfillment.
I really want to die.

Morbid, but true. Everything is meaningless and there's nothing we can do to escape it. And when you can't enjoy anything, like I can't, and am constantly under strain from hating everything, you really start to feel it.

Christmas is returning, and I can smell it. The smell of the frosty breeze; there's nothing more enriching to perk your senses up and remind you of your reality, and of how alive you are. The sense of smell is probably the most authentic sense you have. Nothing is more enriching than a beautiful smell. The smell of a boy's deodorant, the cutting whips of Christmas air, the smell of gravy, the fumes of coffee.

Christmas is returning to us all, and I am actually becoming excited over it. It's the best time of the year, seriously. It's so beautifully festive, from the lights to the corny themed shows, to the santa hats. Nothing brings the nation together like Christmas does. It's such a beautifully unifying time.

And I can't wait.

I'm sorry that I ever left you. I got caught up in the glitzy social networkings of Tumblr, but now I've realised that it's not a proper blogging site anymore. So, I think I'll be returning to Blogger. It's somewhere I can blog freely and release all the built up tensions in my life. And unfortunately, they're oddly numbering.

First to start. How I am now. Well, over the last year or so, I've slowly been devolving into a pit of symptomless depression. I've been getting over emotional about things, losing track of work, losing connection with the positives in life and generally shriveling into a little prune, unable to do anything with myself. It's been so hard, you cannot fathom. I've been destroyed by it. It's turned me into this dried up, empty person, not knowing what I want, who I want, how I want it, and when I want it. I've become randomly instinctive and doing things without my better judgement. I've been going about things the wrong way, and on and on, day by day I can feel things constantly getting too worse for me. I feel trapped, pressured by it. It feels like a great weight on my shoulders, a weight that I am unable to shift, no matter how much I will it away. No matter how much I remind myself that it's causeless and that I am basically distilling this depression in my own head, with nowhere for it to go, but to circulate and pollute my spirits and my productivity as a human being. It prohibits my happiness, my enjoyment and my connection to things. I cannot feel a distinct hold on people, on records, on films or clothes or anything anymore. It's terribly heartbreaking. Like I'm this robot that's trying to feel love, but just can't quite do it.

So that's why I have returned to you, Blogger. I can take faith in you. I know that I am the only one reading this and it makes me happy because of that. I can fully express every problem I can confess, no one will read it, and I know I don't have to impress anyone.

Thank you Blogger. You're an old friend of mine. Many a time you sat silently at my side.

We're bloggering again, are we?
Seems to be.

So, what's new in my life.
Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeell.
Glad you asked.
Not a lot really, it's all pretty similar. Still single. Still a bit depressed and still a bit lonely, but let's move on from that because people don't like serious things, do they?
Let's talk funny.
Hah, hah.
Hm.

I want some sex.

End.

1. I Am Azarrad by Tubelord.
2. Planisphere Pt II by Justice.
3. Juggernauts by Enter Shikari,
4. Who Can Say? by The Horrors.
5. Make This Work by Magistrates.
6. Lovesloveliarslie by Nevershoutnever!
7. Airz by Cutting Pink With Knives.
8. Fofteen by Rolo Tomassi.
9. 8 Bytes by Unicorn Kid.
10. Cyclists Run Red Lights by Drive-By Argument.
11. Pig by This Town Needs Guns.
12. Mad As Rabbits by Panic At The Disco.
13. Brazil Is Here! by Foals.
14. Hey, Cowboy by Cutting Pink With Knives
15. All Roads To Fault by Yourcodenameis:Milo
16. Some Dresses by Danananaykroyd.
17. Tastes Like Kevin Bacon by Iwrestledabearonce.

1. How It Should Be (Sha Sha) by Ben Kweller.
2. Life In Technicolor ii by Coldplay.
3. Gives You Hell by the All American Rejects.
4. Strawberry Fields Forever by The Beatles.
5. Artichokes by Maps & Atlases.
6. Thieves by Atlas Skye.
7. Carolina Heat by You, Me And Everyone We Know.
8. London Gentleman by Atwood.
9. Lost At Home by The Automatic.
10. Wasp's Nest by Tellison.
11. Starbucks by A.
12. Night Of The Pencils by Tubelord.
13. Coney Island by Good Old War.
14. I Have Friends In Holy Spaces by Panic at the Disco.
15. Yourbiggestfan by Nevershoutnever!
16. Folding Stars by Biffy Clyro.


Please feel free to download it.
This a mix I did randomly one day. I hope you enjoy it. I think it's quite good, however, the sound quality is a bit shoddy.
It was done to make a point that pop rock can be done well.

I have another I did for Rebellion last Wednesday.
I'll upload that at some point.
It was okay :)

Sorry, everyone. I seem to have neglected Blogger.
The truth is, I've kind of found a new home in Tumblr, as you can see below.
I think it's much cleaner, sexier and more suiting for my machine.
I am on a Macbook, not a windows.
Therefor, I don't want to be on a website that screams blocky HTML.

But yes.

I must pay homage to the website/blog that got me into blogging and kept me interested in my own introspection again.

So, yeah.
Tumbl me.

Go over, homes.

We are living in the age of the rebirth of culture.
We've exhausted any creativity or ideas of evolving as a culture, so, we're drawing from ideas of the past to fuel our passions, or, more, forgotten, stolen passions. It's considered attractive, good, cultured, cool, (etc) to associate yourself with some form of waste not want not thrift mentality. Vinyls, old fashions, boots, big hair, etc. Generally the stuff of the past.
Cardigans, flannel shirts, tight jeans and boat shoes, maybe?



As much as I would seem to be a culprit of this craze, and I am, it's quite depressing that we're just relying on old culture to amuse ourselves.
Also, we seem to be embracing some kind of bohemian outlook on life. The enjoyment of the pure and pretty and the harmless. Being subtle and embracing things like romance, minimalism and weirdness. There's a constant mix of most known fashions now. From chav to indie, with tendencies of emo, geekism, classism, European culture, etc.
It seems a nice time to just embrace things.
Taking the best from the worst.

I'm not saying it's a bad thing. It's quite a nice thing to enjoy the nice things in life that are pleasant and lovely. Things that are quite innocently middle-class and intelligent. Intelligence, cleanness, etc. It's better this than to be some really horrible chav.
But as I say, we seem dry, creatively. Relying too much on influence. We should be trying to create our own style.
We're just going around in a circle.

I had another point, but I forgot it...

1. Waters Of Nazareth by Justice.
2. Rapture by Data.
3. I Kissed A Boy by Cobra Starship.
4. Chocolate Rain (E3PO Remix) by Tay Zonday.
5. Lion Hat by Unicorn Kid.
6. Zombi / Kernkraft 400 [Osymyso Remix] by Goblin/Zombie Nation
7. We Are Rockstars by Does It Offend You, Yeah?
8. Tragic, But Magic by Henry Homesweet
9. Make A Loss by The Mouse That Ate The Cat.
10. Calm by Drive-By Argument.
11. Don't Trust Me by 3OH!3
12. Tron by Foals.

Follow the 'Share' button and download it.

Stranger: HELLO.
Stranger: I LOVE YOU.
You: HELLO
You: I LOVE YOU TOO
Stranger: OMG.
Stranger: :D
Stranger: <333
You: :D
You: WANT TO GET MARRIED?!
Stranger: yessssss.
Stranger: & have babieesss.
Stranger: <3333
You: OMG
You: I'M SO EXCITED :D
Stranger: :D:D:D
You: I'VE NEVER BEEN MARRIED BEFORE
You: YOU KNOW?!
Stranger: NEITHER HAVE I.
You: SO, FORGIVE ME IF I'M NERVOUS
Stranger: OMG
You: OMG
You: :)
Stranger: OMG DONT WORRY U WILL OVER COME UR NERVES.
Stranger: :D
You: I HOPE SO
You: :]]]]
You: BECAUSE
You: I LOVE YOU SO MUCH
You: And you feel that.
Stranger: YEHHHH I LOVE YOU SOOO MUCHH ASWELLL.
You: So...can we fuck now?
Stranger: NEVER GONNA CHEAT ON YOU BABY.
Stranger: <3333
Stranger: YEAH, WE CAN FUCKKKK BABYYY.
You: Niiiic
You: e
You: What holes do you have?
Stranger: only 1. that's reserved for youuu.
Stranger: u?
You: Mmm.
You: I have one also.
You: You'd think I'd know this stuff by now
You: I am marrying you
You: After all
Stranger: looool.
You: (:
You: But seriously
You: Hello :]
Stranger: hellooooo, babbbbyyyy ;)
You: Aha ;]
You: How are youuu? :]
Stranger: i'mm fucking AMAZINGGGG.. AHHHH.
Stranger: how are youuu? :)
You: I'm kinda rocking :)
Stranger: good good :D
You: :D
You: So, where are you? :)
Stranger: sooo where shall we get married?
You: Paris.
Stranger: ohh la laaa, yes paris.
Stranger: i can imagine it now.
You: Me too.
You: But tell me.
Stranger: me & u. under the eifel tower. ;]
You: Having sex...
You: :]
Stranger: what about sex? ;]
You: YES please
You: I could really do with that stuff
Stranger: OMG sameee.
You: So, are you a man?
You: I naturally assume everyone on here is one.
Stranger: nooo a woman, loool. i don't know why i said i have one hole. :S
Stranger: looool
Stranger: what about u?
You: Maybe that's wrong of me.
You: Yaarr, i'm a man.
Stranger: ohhhhh, yesss i assume the majority of people on here are of the male variety.
Stranger: but yes.
Stranger: your man, i'm woman....
You: And a bit weird.
You: Yeaaah
You: I don't really want to shag you now, sorry
You: I'm a bit of a fag.
Stranger: :O
Stranger: i can wear a strap onnnn.
You: You're still a woman, love.
You: Sorry :]
Stranger: :[
You: Want a picture though?
Stranger: i would love a picture, babes. :]
You: http://tinyurl.com/2epd62
You: :]

Your conversational partner has disconnected.


<3333

This is a topic which greatly infuriates me and it's a word that's toted about with such ease by people who question and mock everything except the peculiars that have slipped through their cynical nets.
Pretentious.

What does this word actually mean?
Well, the dictionary definition is:
;attempting to impress by affecting greater importance, talent, culture, etc., than is actually possessed : a pretentious literary device.'
So, being pretentious.
What it is?
It is certainly a hazy subject, which makes it even more odd that it's referenced so much by people.

To me, pretentiousness is: Cooperate culture. As Bill Hicks would put it, 'sell outs'; people, groups or unities that live a comfortable life in the mainstream. In fact, no. It's not even them themselves. The people who pump out this 'broad' culture (eg. music; radio friendly music.) without a want to offend anyone with any kind of experimentation or diversity.
They are not pretentious.
Why?
Because that's what they want to do. There's a difference from contriving and just being. They are just being what they are and even if they are shit, it's irrelevant.

No, it's the fans.
The fans are pretentious.
For example:
Towards the end of 2008, I was involved in a production at my college (I do Performing Arts, if you're unaware by now) and before the second night of two, the performers were generally 'chilling' in the theatre and listening to music through the speakers of the theatre. Average, inoffensive, boring. Then, Nickelback comes on, the song 'Photograph'. Any true musical person will realise suddenly that this is a sigh for all of that nature. Well, my classmate Genna exclaimed a joy of "Now, this is music!" I then proceeded to walk up to and demand he repeat.
That? That is 'music'?
Nickelback are a staple of talent and worth to the beautiful section of culture that is music?
Really?
Am I missing something?
Aha. I know I'm not.

That example proves my point. These people are pretentious philistines. They revel in their ignorance about culture, fashion, sophistication and living. They think things like 'Nickelback' are talented demigods. My god.
Of course, you expect this from the mainstream audience.
They lap it up and I don't mind it that much, however, I see how foolish they are, I leave them to it.
However.
If I were to play them something really abstract and different from what they usually hear, the word pretentious often pops up.
Also, I like how philistines such as they use the would 'pretentious' to try and appear like they have some kind of intelligible hierarchy above the other. Oh, such hypocrisy.

People would call a band like Ox.Eagle.Lion.Man pretentious. And why?
They're experimental, unusual, progressive, different, weird, but, the most obvious factor of them is that they are middle-class.
It has now become a norm that being middle-class or expressing a blatancy of being middle-class is, the word, pretentious. Now that everyone has been downgraded or promoted into one ruling class of people (which, by the way, bare more traits of working class than any other), to not be that way (working class-esque) is to be pretentious; to be up oneself; to think you are better than you are lead to believe; to have ideas above your station.
Also, people so often define the meaning of 'pretentious' wrongly.
It's generally held with a banner of being too British, or to revel in oneself, and ones abilities; specifically if those abilities involve the mind, appearance or general sophistication and culture, or class.
Don't overstep yourself is what we're constantly told.
But, it's okay for a working class man to claim his rights and use the term 'Working Class Hero' and exclaim how he will not be held down. However, if a middle class man were to stand up for the stereotypical traits of being middle class (the paragraph above), he is seen as pretentious.
Why?
Have we come one nation ruled by the working class?
A hundred years ago, the working class barely existed in terms of acknowledgment, and now, it's prideful to call yourself working class and 'up yourself' to claim any 'higher'.
To use a really pathetic, but, reasonably persuasive metaphor which i'm sure a lot of white working class men (mainly men) will have reveled in about their rights.
'Why is it that if I were to call a black man something negative, there would be outcry, but, on the other way around, it's not a problem?'
That kind of situation.
Also, if you were one of the people who needed to read that example to understand my point, you're clearly one of the people who will call me or this article pretentious, but, I care not.

I am quite sick of being made to feel guilty for my own intelligence and love of it.
Not everyone wants to aspire to be a workman (horrible generalisation of working class people there, but to be fair, that's the feeling I got when in school and surrounded by boys with such aspirations.), some of us want to write novels, or, explore music making.

What point am I making?
Well, my point is merely this: try and rid of the word 'pretentious' from your vocabulary. (Also, because you're using that word, you're becoming pretentious yourself, you see?) It's highly negative and it just obstructs evolution, really. It makes everyone go 'Oh, okay...' and not strive difference, abnormality or individualism and, these three things, I adore.
So, shut up. Thanks.

& To put it in a less smug way.
Let people be free to experiment with their lives, and don't judge, you shouldn't let it worry you, and in fact, you should be doing it too. Thank you.

Just so you know.

1. I have no one who would want to date me.

2. My course sucks.

3. I'm never happy.

4. I never know where/how to place myself.

5. My feet smell.

6. I am not really sure what I want or how to get it.

7. Something.

8. Jon is always scrutinising me.

9. My hair is making me feel weird.

10. :(

:']

- I like Ricky Gervais as person. I feel that, in person, he is unbelievably hilarious. The XFM radio shows he made with Karl Pilkington & Stephen Merchant, for me, are the funniest pieces of radio ever broadcast. Also, I find him to be extremely intelligent and The Office is amazing. I find his opinions always just, amusing, yet, extremely well thought out, intelligent and respectable.

- I like This Town Needs Guns. They are probably my favourite band at the moment. I find their music to touch me in a way most other music does not. I love Stuart Smith's vocals, lyrics, the guitar chords and the general structure of every song they make. They're one of the best bands in Britain.

- I like the fact that I am generally less judgmental and cynical than people who would like to claim their own intelligence. They often claim me to be some sort of 'pseudo-intellectual' but given the fact that I am not trying to impress anyone but myself, I can hardly see how that one works. Also, whenever I criticise anything, I just want the best out of it. I see the world's holes, and just dream they would heal up, and whenever I comment on them, I'm merely coaxing some aid towards them. I don't want to make these people feel like they're so kind of mistake to the world, like many 'intelligent' people i've known. They're merely fascists of intelligible content and if you don't agree with their ideals, they get all passive aggressive and bitchy on yo' ass.

Do you ever get that feeling that you're constantly the bottom of the list for everyone? That, given the chance, people would rather sigh and do nothing than spend any time with you?
Yeah, I get that. A lot.
People generally don't seem to care about talking to me or paying attention to me, and whenever anyone does seem to, you don't need it, or it's from people that you don't really expect to care.
Next to strangers who you met a mere few weeks ago.
Why does this happen?
Surely people you've known for a while should actually give a shit about your existence.
Surely they should care about your well-being or actually being around you and talking to you.
Why do the people you think are worth putting the effort into never seem to want to care?
They're always apathetic or just clearly uninterested in caring for whatever sympathetic need you need.

I am sick to death of having 'friends' that don't even care about talking to me.
Why is it always the case that I have to instigate everything?
I can't remember the last time I was asked if I wanted to do anything interesting or time consuming.
People just don't pay attention.
I often get the feeling from many things that I am not worth anyone's time.
I'm still single, I always get crap off people and my 'friends' always have to give me crap deals about being with them.
It's always like 'Oh, so and so will be there too' or just an excuse not to do anything and when you do get people to do things they say things like 'Oh, I didn't want to do it, but, I didn't want to let you down'
WHAT THE FUCK?!
Why can't things just go well for me for fuck sake?!
I'm sick of settling for fourth place.

You put a thing out on Facebook saying 'Anyone want to do something this easter?' and one person replies to it.
One.

I don't know if it's the same for anybody else, but, I have no luck with love, really. There are many conditions for this, several of which, I am unsure how to actually change.

Firstly, I always seem to find a large difficulty finding anyone that keeps my attention. When it comes to partners, I am usually very picky. They've got to be exact, and when I feel like I'm being 'lenient' with allowances, I always feel like I'm trailing after people that I'd rather not. I often feel quite next to nothing towards the people who are actually interested in me. But, then, as I said above, I sort of give them a chance, but, yet, they're as half arsed as I should be. I don't actually care, but, I have nothing better to contend with, so, I try and make do and, these people I am making do with don't actually try hard enough for my fake-interest. Secondly, when they actually try with me, I don't seem to care anyway and just remind myself that I don't actually care, fancy or love these people. I never know what to do with people. Nothing ever seems to be enough for anyone.

I recently lost a friend; this person (who, I wont name, because, it's quite pointless to) was someone I would have considered a close friend. He was someone that seemed a bit more interesting than everyone else. From what I could tell, we were really good friends after such a brief moment of time; we always had a good time together, we never had problems making conversation, we made each other laugh, things seemed good. I felt that he was a keeper. However, like all novelties, they either fade out into mundaneness, or just can't stick around.
A week or two ago, he randomly decided to be unsociable with me. I noticed it straight away, but, tried to put it off as paranoia. However, I enquired and asked him personally, to which, he said he had and that there was a reason. He said enough to let me know that it was my doing, but, refused to confirm exactly what. I did my best, but, I couldn't get anything out of him. So, I left him for several days, hoping, things would straighten themselves within a few days and things just would go back to normal.
Last Wednesday, I was DJing at a gig in Wrexham, and I was on my Laptop (For that was what I DJ'd from); throughout the night, I began to think on him and the fact that we were still not talking. Eventually, at the end of the evening, Jimmy, my Djing cohort, told me that the friend in question had been bitching about me to him and another collective friend of ours. Apparently he said that I was far too nice and buddying with him and that I generally irritated him with my consistent friendship.

So yeah.
People suck.

I am writting to you now from an iPod Touch. The wonders of new media.

Today, whilst walking around my lovely town, I decided to pay a visit to be library. It has two certain sections which they usually devote to artistry. One in it's own room, the other, in the main library. It's quite nice. It's exhibition today was that of hanging buttons; beautiful, random buttons. I adored it. I even wrote a little note to congratulate the artist on their work. I told them that I would love it more if it were stuck to my roof.

I am sitting here, drinking a reasonable cup of coffee, looking pretty fashionable and sophisticated (PHOTO) and am minutes from getting in the car and going to DJ at a gig. My dad may be getting me an iPod Touch in the near future and I am not moving until I have finished my coffee.

I am imaging how things will go. My fingers are crossed and I am just praying that my mind will last long enough on the image of you. My find is very fickle these days.
I can't help but try and mock romanticise us together, regardless of my empty heart. It would appear that I bare no feelings for you at all, however, whenever you're away long, I seem to miss you still.
Maybe I don't miss you specifically; maybe I just miss the idea and role you present.
But, at any rate, we will never meet, so, it's all fine.

Yet, I can't help but be drained by your rejections regardless of empty heart.
Maybe I'm just playing along.
I can't think of anything better to do.

My fingers still claw for you, however, despite it all.
I cannot help it. But, for you, I feel the same as I do most.
It gets to a point where I am not finding anyone that seems to fit the caliber, but yet, I'm making do with what I have, in it's minimal form.
What else am I meant to do?

You may be wondering (of course, who the fuck are you to wonder?)...

Okay scrap that. You wouldn't have wondered. You're not even reading this, so, I will just say it for my own amusement.

My name; Wolves Riding Bears; It is a reference. I listen to a podcast network called Simply Syndicated. At one point, I cannot remember which, during a show, it was brought up that wolves would be riding bears. I cannot remember, please, leave me be you cynical fucks.
"Look! It's wolves, riding bears!'

So yeah.
Also, I would hopefully like to utilise it for a band name one day. A hardcore band of some sorts. Maybe the band that might be happening with Rob, but, that doesn't even seem to be making any process right now, so, I doubt that will ever go anywhere.

But yes.

I have another blog you may wish to ignore. It's called 'Finally, Music!' where I review music. Pretty cool, huh? If you head to YouTube, you should be able to find the crumbling remains of a music review channel I did with YouTuber Ofarevolution441, called Thenewnorm. Unfortunately, the flow has been lost, due to Jason being flooded with work and I care very little any more.
Don't rely on other people, is that I say to you.
Make your own music review blog.

I feel that my blood is leaking out of my sides, and through my eyes, and through my sides.
People seem to forget my heart of glass has a stone in place of a heart of glass.
Please, bring me to the head here, because you know I can prosper far.
Oh, great shakes change the world.
Oh, great shakes move the planet sideways.

We are all awaiting the next big change, I am full'a change, all about change.
Move on forward and prosper. Don't deflect. Don't reflect.
We need to move on and change a bit, we savages.

The name of the band is so oddly placed given how beautiful and relaxing the song is.

Maybe you're just being destroyed with kindness.

The song is called Freedom Blade.

I do, I do.

Someone I can always be around and someone who I do loads of lovely things with.

It fucking sucks having no one constant to have around. I hate being a reluctant loner. It's not even my choice! :|
Everyone assumes I want to be left alone it seems, all the time, but no one ever considers that I want to have someone there.
I need a best friend.
Someone consistent.
Someone special.
Someone close.
Someone close, here.
Someone reliable above anyone.

I just need it but, fuck.
I can't get it.

The last best friend I had was James Ackerley, but, that was all one way. He was my best friend, I wasn't his.
We didn't spend any time together, just me and him and if we did it was like once every few months.
I wish I was someone's number one.
Someone's reliable guy.
I want to be someone's best friend.

Mr. Seeland, please relish as much as you need to.

You know, it's a shame no one sports the Chaplin 'tash nowadays. Hitler had to ruin it, didn't he?

Atlas Skye, or, as I shall call them Atlas Skype, is a really disappointing outcome of a year of loyal waiting.
For those unaware, which, all of you probably are, I shall explain.

From the years 2004 until 2008 there existed a band named Drive-By Argument. Anyone who has known me for more than year will probably understand well that they were at one point my favouritest band ever. They were an electro-indie-dance-sex-funk OMGus package of good rocking punk-emo, electronic music, synthesizer sounds, diverse vocals, catchy guitar riffs, electro and acoustic beats unique and odd song names unpredictability. I was in love like nothing other. I first found them supporting Panic (back when the exclamation was necessary) At the Disco on the 22nd Of August (a day after my birthday, I'll have you know) 2006 in Wolverhampton; It was the best night of my life. I can needlessly claim how much they blew me away. I'd never heard music like this before. I even remarked to my friend Kathrine "You know, I am probably going to end up liking these" and I did. That evening, or maybe a few evenings on, I purchased my first iTunes track and it was by them, which was a demo of the song "Lower Your Pieces" as I say, I fell in love. The love was unconditional, beautiful and how love for music should be. From then on, they were my favourite band. I couldn't get enough. It was like a drug that just was never enough. Every song just made me feel so good and happy at my discovery. It made me happy about music, about what music could bring me and shaped my appreciation of music today. The differences and exciting twists music could be taken.

In March 2008 they released their self-titled debut album; at the time the album had been delayed a year due to their god-awful record label (a term of which is so loose, I may as well have called them Cunt Shysters) Lizard King, famed for the discovery of the Killers (look at them now) and due to that wait, I had basically exhausted every piece of the band's catalogue when the album was actually released and a few months after it's release I subsequently moved on and away from their music. But, as soon as their album was released, it was like, they'd never existed. They were no where to be seen for like a year. I found out that they couldn't put up new music as if they did, LK would instantly own them and they'd have no say over how the tracks would be treated. So, gone they were seeming to be. Recently I spoke to some of the members via various networking sites; they told me about a return which would be occurring very soon. I was excited. I was excited to get my band back. It was a similar feeling you get when you know an old friend of yours is coming back from a far off land. However, today, I have seen the come back, and this friend has shocked me. Drive-by Argument are no longer the band I once knew. In fact, Drive-By Argument are no longer Drive-By Argument, but, Atlas Skye.

First thought, horrible name. Atlas Skye, what the fuck does that mean? Atlas Skye? That's the kind of band name some pointless and overly self-assured teenage pricks call their band when they think they're creative. It doesn't mean anything. It's so...pop rock and wank. Getting onto my second point; they are fucking pop rock. Right, I hate pop rock more than most things in the world. I find it to be one of the most bland and worthless genres. It's the kind of wank that the little sixteen year old philistines you meet at college wank over. I'm thinking Scouting For Girls and other such, but, more generic. If that were possible.
Thirdly, I have heard their new stuff and I am completely gobsmacked. I mean, I know that, when creating a new band and a new era for your band, you don't want to sound like the last, but, fucking hell, you could have tried a little harder to impress me. It's really generic pop rock. Just nothing. Even Stoke's vocals can't be arsed anymore, which, really, I thought would be the saviour of this terrible idea, but no.

www.myspace.com/atlasskye

Check for yourself, you may like it, but, I sadly do not. It may grow on me, but, for now, it's a downturned thumb.

Indie Pop Happy band: - Alar Dananananaykroyd.
There would be four of us. I would play the bass, but occasionally I would put the bass down and jump around a bit and sing tunes about things.
Harry would play the guitar and make jingly jangly, happy, catchy riffs.
Frank would drum, loudly and make a load of clapping noises with his sticks whenever he could.
Pete would sing, and play rhythm guitar, have short hair, plump glasses and an odd face, but, everyone would think he was cool, all the same.
And we would all jump into the audience whenever we could and played amongst the people.
We would make poppy happy songs about girls and oddly amusing tales of happy people and their lives, sitting in cafes and such.
We'd make crazy tour people and make sure we broke the 4th wall quite substantially as we would talk to the audience and ask them stupid questions and stuff and occasionally get them up on stage and do dances and shit.

'Cause it's cool if a band does that, not so cool if an actor asks a member of the audience to come up and recite a monologue or something.

Please watch the video bellow.
Everything about it is pretty.

Is it worse to be loved by people you do not feel the same about, or to not be loved by the people you assumed did?

This week has been given to me, on a platter, with a nice possibility for actual enjoyment. Sadly, it was not to be the case. This week has been shit. There really is no more high brow way of saying it. It has been shit.
I mean, very little was planned for this week, really, but, everything that was planned, has either been:
1. Juggled about, and left feeling lack luster, and missing a few of its original qualities.
2. Not happened at all.
Or whatever.

Everything always just fails miserably and is never right.
Ergh. I just get bad luck on every angle. No one appreciates me fully and the people that do I don't.
I'm sick of it.
Sick of you.
Sick of them.
Just sick and tired.

It annoys me how easily people get confused by the lack of emoticons and the heightening of language use, especially, textually, and proceed to jump to the conclusion that the barer of the intellect is somehow deranged, angry or generally displeased.
For some reason, you need to thoroughly make it clear that you are in no way disgruntled in order to save accusations that you are somehow 'heated'. And it all boils down to the simple fact that, unless you smother the other in the debate, conversation, whatever you will call it with clear affection to them, rather than indifference and just generally, dealing with the subject matter, paranoia seems to ensue. How insecure this generation is clear to be, it would seem.
But, oddly, in person, it's fine.
I suppose it is the lack of tone that frightens people and how vast its interpretations can be, and people generally side with the negative. 
I'm not sure why, really, maybe it is just one of those things people tarnish as the 'human nature' but, it is darn right silly.

Is it more acceptable to be ignorant & clueless or knowing & lying?

I look back, nostalgically, into my decaying mind, numbly perusing several memories more perfect than ones of now. The affections and the indulging, effortless conversation, however filled with so much of it and both intertwined to form something amazing. When paying notice to these dreamlike times, it makes one wonder on his own status in the modern day. Is life really as lovely as one would want it to be? It wouldn't seem to be so. Regret is such a tragic curse of the memory, especially memories which involve times that don't occur any more.
People, faces, and places.
Words, expressions, sharing.
Secrets, hearts, appreciation.
And you turn to your current state; yes certain things are obviously worth while, and you love them dearly, such as people, items, customs, habits you've adopted, ones you've released, but, it never seems like the thrill of life pertains to anything you're involved with anymore. No one gives you that spark, that smile and most of all, joy.
Joy is lacking, nowadays.
People bring joy, and if the joyous people have departed, it's a horrid existence of sociality. Perhaps you are not allowing yourself to experience joy anymore. Surely, on the perusal of its skin, that idea seems to be ridiculous.
But, really, is it that hard to believe?
Think.
You've loved these people; you've given them your heart, your mind and your hand, and you look over to find them gone, vanished and without a trace of regret for it. It had to be done. So, surely, after however many times of that happening, think of the amount of friends one usually gains over a year, especially if they're very interested in online networking, after many of these people you once cared for, in your heart, once so many leave, your heart is going to be 'sick' of trying to open once again to accept any more. This leaves the barer fickle, and stolen; stolen from his desired position as an open and sociable man. No longer can he simply open his arms and welcome all who come; it makes it more difficult to do so. You become more selective with your people, they have to be a certain way and a certain type. This is similar for partners also. And ultimately, you realise you feel nothing for this person, so, you end up squandering contacts with them and decide that it 'wasn't to be'.
Probably a few weeks later, you will be more than likely regretting this decision, and begging for their forgiveness/re-friendship. If you are lucky, this person will forgive and let you return into their folds.
However, you may be feeling happy with yourself, alas, it will more than likely be a brief, fleeting mind fooling, as, within however long, they'll be showing their liking for you, and you'll start to feel uncomfortable that you don't feel the same way as they do.
You start doubting yourself. You think you're living a lie and that every time you talk to them, you're lying to them. You're lying by being their friend. You're wasting their time. "It's cruel, I better do something about it," you think.
So, the next step is either to brave it and see how you feel in however long, or tell them and ruin everything. But, how long can you wait it out? They're already moving closer and closer. Inching toward your hand. They like you a lot and you can barely talk to them without feeling guilty.
What is the answer to this? I know not. If I did, I'd tell you, I would. It'd be cruel of me to know and not tell you, as you see, I would like to know myself. The point is, the problem is there and it needs to be solved. I'm clearly digressing.
After numerous torturous endings to your beloved friendships, it's a very difficult thing to care again, as i've explained above. I have no real answer to share with you today, other than; If you can rectify the old friendships that made living so good, I'd take that chance.
And boy, I would If I could.

Someone fix it for me.


Taah.

Let's All Be More Semantic. says: (17:38:09)
Do you think that the liking and fucking of sex dolls is a step down from necrophilia? *-)
[b][c=1]MikeEatsAirplane[/c][/b] [i][c=5]Everyone but me looks like they've seen a ghost.[/c][/i] says: (17:40:27)
No.
Let's All Be More Semantic. says: (17:40:44)
Oh...Well.
[b][c=1]MikeEatsAirplane[/c][/b] [i][c=5]Everyone but me looks like they've seen a ghost.[/c][/i] says: (17:41:07)
Why, do you?
Let's All Be More Semantic. says: (17:41:12)
It seems it
Let's All Be More Semantic. says: (17:41:16)
They're not reacting
Let's All Be More Semantic. says: (17:41:20)
Lifeless...

My perceptions on things keep changing regularly. One minute I'll think highly of something, then, I'll realise that I never felt that thing in the first place. Maybe I'm just pretending to like anything when in actual fact I don't like anything anymore.

:(

Claps, clicks and bumps and bums.
Cowbells, gang vocals and foot stamps.
Etc.

The trades of the nu-indie scenes seem to be based around just the simple enjoyment of little things.
Clapping along.
Little games, such as that of Dananananananananananananananykroyd's 'Wall Of Hugs' in place of the typical 'hardcore' 'don't label me' scene kid scene of the 'Wall of Death'.
They don't take themselves seriously.
It's more about enjoying oneself with progress, experimentation and basically, having fun.
Nu-Indie, encompassing Math Rock, Fight Pop, Math Pop, and the general resources of danceable Indie.
It's fun just to enjoy making music and performing arts.
Also, fuck four chords.
It's now all about being technical and yet still jumping about whist playing.
Also, include the bassist a bit.
Don't leave them playing the same chord for several metres.

Jumping is fun.
Jump into the crowd and involve them.
Make them do things.
Make them carry you while you play.

Play as many instruments as you can.
Get a cowbell and stick and hit it to the beat.
Play around with a keyboard once in a while.
Maybe get your laptop, hook it up and play some samples.
Just go mental.

Experimenting is fun.

:(

I wish people would pay more attention to me.

It's Valentine's Day tomorrow and I once again am spending it alone.
I'm not even going to be having friends 'round because they're all in relationships.

It doesn't make sense :'[
I'm good.
I'm damned good.
And there are fat ginger people with weird hair who are getting more than I.
It doesn't make sense.
I'm clearly not a munter and I know i'm interesting and very 'of myself' so, why is it so fucking difficult?
I mean, I barely meet any gay people as it is.
But, surely, people can find another people.
Why am I not getting any notice?
Why aren't people sending cards to my door?
Okay, I wont 'know' until tomorrow.
But, honestly, they wont.
They need my fucking address first.

It's just shit.
:(
I've been single for 19 years.
It's just wrong.
Someone save me.

Nobody likes to wait. So we've focused on the basics that can impact the speed of your PC. Windows 7 starts up, shuts down, resumes from standby, and responds faster. You'll have fewer interruptions and can recover more quickly from problems when they do occur because Windows 7 will help you fix them when you want.

We're not shit, honest!

I have to say this because it's been eating me up inside longer than I can even recall.
I hate my generation.

The people of my generation are self-centred, pointlessly rebellious (because they can) idiot-toting wasters with no stake in society or any want to be. They live on their own arrogance alone, hoping that will propel them to great heights, by basically calling everyone around them a cunt, and in turn, they call the next person along one, and so and so forth until ultimately, everybody hates, mistrusts and is annoyed by everyone else.
Hate breeds hate as much as happiness breeds happiness.
But, hate is easier to produce when so many practice it as result for their 'shit' lives.
Everyone's messed up, please, don't think you're the first.
I don't really care how badly treated you think you are by your dad, it's not my fault.
So, stop whining about how bad you think your life is.
The old saying goes well.
There's always someone worse off than yourself.

And, yes, I appreciate you have troubles, everyone does, but, if you're going to think that it's more important than the sun, then, please, fuck off.

Because we're all 'new men' we're allowed to show our feelings now.
Unfortunately, men haven't worked out how to yet.
So, they end up fucking their lives up by saying things, or not saying things when they need to.
And also from this, we can't deal with our own emotions.
We've been taught to supress them, and now, we have to look at them and figure them out.
Women know what they're thinking because they've been brought up to realise their own minds.
Shame that men were told that thinking was pointless until they're about 64 when they can think and tell all their ignorant and 'experienced' mind's contents.

Please, do.

This Town Needs Guns.
Elk.

Please, someone design me a brilliant layout for this thing.

I can't seem to get any to even work in the 'Edit HTML' thing.
It keeps saying stuff about XML.
Ergh.
I don't like their boring default layouts.

My hands are cold.

How are you?

Anyone want to come and stay at mine?
You'll be more than welcome.

12:21:24 Eliot Kid.: Want me to tell you my adventurous tale of last night?
12:22:05 (F)望 Infinite Detail: Alright
12:22:21 Eliot Kid.: Well
12:23:04 Eliot Kid.: At around about half five, my mum gave me a lift to the train station, so I could head off to Liverpool.
12:23:12 Eliot Kid.: She took me to the wrong train station
12:23:18 Eliot Kid.: So I had to ring her and get her to take me to the other
12:23:48 Eliot Kid.: I got the train to Chester, changed there, got the half six to Liverpool Central.
12:23:51 Eliot Kid.: Sat.
12:23:52 Eliot Kid.: Read.
12:23:56 Eliot Kid.: Ate sandwiches.
12:23:59 Eliot Kid.: Drank water.
12:24:03 Eliot Kid.: Listened to iPod
12:24:09 Eliot Kid.: And at about
12:24:13 Eliot Kid.: Green Lane stop
12:24:16 Eliot Kid.: It started saying
12:24:20 Eliot Kid.: 'This train is going to Chester'
12:24:22 Eliot Kid.: And I was like
12:24:24 Eliot Kid.: 'Huh? '
12:24:35 Eliot Kid.: I mean, stupid thing for them to do
12:24:45 Eliot Kid.: But apparently it just goes to Central and then turns around and goes back to Chester
12:24:45 Eliot Kid.: But
12:24:53 Eliot Kid.: Say that when I've gotten off at Central
12:24:56 Eliot Kid.: Anyway
12:24:57 Eliot Kid.: Got off
12:25:02 Eliot Kid.: Had a very needed piss
12:25:13 Eliot Kid.: And shot off to try and find the Liverpool Barfly
12:25:29 Eliot Kid.: I had a map from Google.maps
12:25:37 Eliot Kid.: So, I took the route
12:25:39 Eliot Kid.: Aaaand
12:25:47 Eliot Kid.: The Barfly wasn't where it said on the fucking map
12:25:57 Eliot Kid.: I trawled for ages trying to find it
12:26:10 Eliot Kid.: Eventually stopping and asking some middle aged goth lady for directions
12:26:27 Eliot Kid.: Getting there, I headed upstairs and perused the room
12:26:30 Eliot Kid.: Then texting you
12:26:35 Eliot Kid.: About it's nicenesss
12:27:11 Eliot Kid.: Then the first played. Instrumental Math Rock band. Was good. Then after they finished, had a nice little chat with Tim; the guitarist from This Town Needs Guns
12:27:25 Eliot Kid.: Then, second act came on, who were like a crap version of the first.
12:27:49 Eliot Kid.: I then stowed my stuff in a dark corner of a room
12:28:11 Eliot Kid.: Then, as the next artist was prepping
12:28:58 Eliot Kid.: Stuart, the front man of This Town Needs Guns came over and introduced himself and apologised for the fact that he promised a lift home but had to turn me down
12:29:29 Eliot Kid.: However, I told him that my train was due to leave at 10:35, and he was like 'Well...that's when we're meant to be going on. There's two more bands to play'
12:29:41 Eliot Kid.: So it was like 'Shit...D:'
12:29:59 Eliot Kid.: So,
12:30:04 Eliot Kid.: As the next artists were on
12:30:05 Eliot Kid.: I was like
12:30:07 Eliot Kid.: 'Curse you'
12:30:29 Eliot Kid.: 'Curse you for wanting to take up a set list with your music and not letting TTNG come on sooner, meaning i'll miss them'
12:31:23 Eliot Kid.: When the third band came off, I spoke with Stuart again, and he said about, he would ask if anyone in the audience was going to North Wales and could give a lift and if not, they'd just squeeze me in
12:31:33 Eliot Kid.: So yeah
12:31:36 Eliot Kid.: Next band came on
12:31:38 Eliot Kid.: Fit bassist
12:31:51 Eliot Kid.: Then TTNG came on
12:31:55 Eliot Kid.: GOOOOD
12:31:58 Eliot Kid.: And then yeah
12:32:04 Eliot Kid.: Helped them tidy up
12:32:08 Eliot Kid.: Bought a shirt
12:32:12 Eliot Kid.: *is wearing that shirt*
12:32:28 Eliot Kid.: Helped them move stuff to their van, down the steps and stuff
12:32:43 Eliot Kid.: Fucked my arms trying to carry a heavy amp
12:32:52 Eliot Kid.: To the van around several corners
12:33:41 Eliot Kid.: And we went on our way and they dropped me off and then I went in, made a coffee and spoke to Stephen on Skype for several hours, before going to bed at like 3.
12:33:42 Eliot Kid.: So yeah
12:33:45 Eliot Kid.: Eventful
12:33:48 Eliot Kid.: Oh, and
12:33:50 Eliot Kid.: In the day
12:34:01 Eliot Kid.: Recorded a podcast episode with Jon
12:34:03 Eliot Kid.: So yeah
12:34:05 Eliot Kid.: Again
12:34:07 Eliot Kid.: Eventful.
12:34:08 Eliot Kid.: *smiles*
12:34:30 (F)望 Infinite Detail: Ah, indeed.
12:34:50 Eliot Kid.: Sorry. You were in it though.
12:35:01 (F)望 Infinite Detail: I was
12:35:10 (F)望 Infinite Detail: I feel honoured
12:35:17 Eliot Kid.: *rolls eyes*

Oh, snow.
Lovely, tender snow.
How I missed your sight.
Please don't go.
I like my clothes being all piled on and tight.

Whenever there's a hair on your Whitebook, you always notice.


Snow is so relaxing.
I can sit here and do work without any fuss because of it.

People should comment me more.

And I need more followers.
If you're not 'following' me, and keep coming back to this page, please do follow me.

And anyone who wants to design a layout for this half-arsed, travesty of a blog, I will be more than thankful.

Inabizzle.
x

Pah.

I've gotten to a point where no one actually wants to fight for my love.
It's just, I've got to be the one to always make the effort for people I only half arsed care about.

Who am I kidding?
This is shit.
Waste of time.

"Speculation is the true genius, and ultimately, downfall of man"

What do YouTube adverts take me for?

I needed some pockets for my folder, I phone my mum to ask if she can pick up some whilst out, she says "Ask Dad".
So, I ask Dad.
He gives me this overly long inquisition about why I need them, how soon do I need them and can't I make do, etc, etc.
Really kind of trying to avoid being a Dad, bless him, it must be so stressful being such a committing father, and then your son asks a small favour to help with his college work.
How does he manage it?
And then he just gets all moody, so, I go 'Oh, forget it, i'll get some myself" in a manor of 'This is pointless' rationally.
And he gets all stroppy, like a fucking child and is like intensifying everything I asked, in repeat form in a kind of you're in the wrong, sarcastic fashion.
And he's just basically pretending he said he would go and get me some to prove a point that he can't deal with his own fucking social situations with other people.
He's clearly not a people person.
And apparently going 'Do you need them right this minute?'
and me going 'Well, yeah'
Is a subtle agreement that he will go and get them.
Ridiculous.
And that didn't even happen.
He just quoted it at me.

And he's the father...

"By the very nature of being human, it's impossible not to be confused by your own mind"

"People who keep things 'the same' can't dream of anything. It's already been dreamt for them."

As much as I did enjoy playing Guitar Hero: World Tour, I don't think I can actually own it now.
We've had two sets of the game, with the full band kit and within a week, this one has stopped working. It's ridiculous.
This shouldn't be happening.
Really.



I want to play it, but I can't.
Fail, Redoctane.

There have been times, like these, before now, that I’ve lost pretty much all faith in the prospect of trusting other people. If you want something done, it’s better to remain on your own without fear of dispute or complications involving negligence and general selfish wankery. Also, it’s that whole ‘A Donkey is a Horse designed by comity’ argument that is just basically the problems with trying to decide on something with more than one person. It might not come out how you wanted it to; therefore you could consider it inferiour, trying to compromise to please everyone involved. ‘Too many cooks spoil a broth’, etc. Basically, it’s a general problem. Putting faith in other people is often just hoping for something better than is received, eventually. You start to pretend; fool yourself that you can actually lay at least some kind of responsibilities with somebody else; to turn up, bring something, or just generally remember to keep to what they told they would do. Also, it’s just rude. It’s rude to just assume it’s fine and that I should consider it fine, also. Most people who do this kind of thing end up just turning around, when the problem is mentioned to them, with indignation. They shouldn’t have to answer to it, but will anyway, with arrogance and spite:

‘It’s your fault for letting it annoy you.’

‘It’s your fault for making “a big deal” out of it’

People seem to have problems just generally admitting to their own faults, so they attack the “accuser” (but more like, ‘informer’. But they would probably use ‘Attacker’), hoping to throw them off and to avoid the possible idea of admittance. It’s cowardly, is what it is.

You’re using the other person as a scapegoat in your feverous attempts to avoid any form of truth that you may perceive to be negative.

They often refer to the other as a possessor of the same negative traits, ultimately implying that they are somehow hypocrites and therefore, unqualified to judge that person. Whether the person accusing is or is not guilty of this problem, it’s not their turn, it’s yours, to pay the price for your ignorance.
Also, the common defence is to just accuse the other of knowing too little. For example; you and a friend plan to meet, and the other friend doesn’t turn up at the allotted time. You ring/text them and ask them as to why. It turns out that they’ve found themselves busy with some other issue. Work, maybe, it doesn’t really matter what exactly. Then you, rightly so, are annoyed by their lack of communication before hand. You’ve made the effort to turn up, and they’ve told you the news, late, and on request (you shouldn’t need to actively ask, they should have told you pre-meeting) and when you complain about it, they act like you’ve done something wrong.

“I’m a busy person”

There’s generally no remorse for the confusion of the fact that they’ve put the other person out. It’s generally insensitive and it’s incredibly anti-social. It shows that you don’t really care what effort they’ve done to meet you and all that matters is how you’re feeling. They might have travelled by many a bus and hour to come, just to see you, in a city centre, and you’ve left them to do that, without warning of the pointlessness of that, ultimately. And even if there was no way to get the news to them before they caught that bus, at least have the decency to be empathic and apologetic for the mistake. It may not have been avoidable, but, you have a duty as a friend to be remorseful that you disappointed your friend. Besides, you should at least be annoyed that you couldn’t be with your friend. Have some respect for your friend; the friend that put their faith in you, that of which, you failed.

Remember, for next time.

I'm really getting into Videosforpictures, the musical work of YouTuber ofarevolution441, and internet friend/video collaberatererer of mine, Ja(y/)son.

Honestly, when I first heard is work, I was bordering on my decisions on it, not knowing which seemed the more likely, as they seemed to balance each other out.
One was: 'This is...just terribly straining. He can barely sing and it's so convoluted, I can't even take it in'
But, with any form of art, you need to take a step back and appreciate it on a higher spectrum.

In actual fact, VFP is a stunning contribution to music.
It's odd because, you always like to imagine you're with something special, like a band, as it progresses before the mainstream, but you don't realise it until it's become mainstream, and this is similar here.
VFP is special.
It's an oddly unique blend of Radiohead-esk abstract indie, experimental, math, a slight hint of raw grunge and the cutting piano chord striking beautifulness that fills every track and is a sound ahead of nearly anything that's about now.
His straining voice is oddly endearing and just induces empathic feelings from his audience. You feel every vocal chord with him, like a true musical story teller.
His lyrics are very T. Yorke influenced, and evidentially so. There's a constant stream of abstract naturalism throughout it all, which, when examined, spell out a beautiful and poetic portrayal of a young man's opinions on his world, and the people that surround him.
The music itself is raw, distorted piano, on poor recording software (a video camera's mic...), which adds so much for the type of music he makes, in actual fact. You may listen first time around and think that he really needs a good quality studio, but, in actual fact, that would just ruin it's air; it's atmosphere. The music is dark, dingy and dirty, yet optimistic and richly heartwarming and being recorded with such low quality just gives the impression of a recording in a cold, empty cellar, devoid of any purity.
This, ironically, is what makes VFP a whole and centred piece of art.
It is exactly that; ideals and observations of a mind, centred in the middle of a cold, empty, dark, dingy and dirty world, staring at the what is and the mind's opinions on that exactly.
The torn, beaten, ripped and chisel-stricken sound, including his weary, almost pathetic, (in it's actual definition's form, rather than a derogatory misterminalisation) voice, which is just crying out for someone to listen, but, in a musical form/tune.

I highly recommend.
And tbh, this isn't bias.
I have been friends with many people who have made music and I just can't bring myself to tell them how crap it is.
This is actually brilliant.
Gogogogogogo.

Download Very Three, his first EP:
http://www.mediafire.com/?zgtcouv7gjt

http://www.youtube.com/ofarevolution441
http://www.youtube.com/videosforpictures

Songs to recommend:
From The Clouds, Cow In Parachute and Big Damn Buildings.
However, 'FTC' is off his unreleased next EP, The Dryas EP, which is out...sometime.
Yes, i'm in with the coolz.


For a lack of a video of FTC, CIP or BDB.
Not discounting The Brilliance (see what I did?! no) of it.

I found my notebook, of which, i'm very happy about. It was sitting behind my bed, where it had fallen days before. Whist watching Funny Games on FilmFour, I was constantly thinking about it, and, I had speculated it being down the back of my bed, but never looked; so, during a break, I went determinately fishing for it and found. I was so relieved, honestly; I kissed it and held it close and thanked whomever it was that I didn't leave it in some foreign nowhere.

Anyway...I found the disc for the scanner, installed the driver, and have scanned several prints of some workings.
On forth with the scans!

They're...okay.


The image is of a girl named Rae.





Please forgive the angling.
I can't help that.
I need Preview back...I was a fool for deleting. Hopefully, I can nick a copy of the software off Alan.
I'm sick of viewing images in Xee (*grumble*) and more recently, Safari.
You can't just...edit the rotation, for crying out loud.

If anyone has like, Preview on a torrent somewhere, please tell me of it?
I need it, a lot.
I was clumsy to think that this thing was like Windows and that everything in the Applications folder was just a shortcut.
Damn my OCD shifting of the not used actively via program click!

My god, it's like a dinner date with Hitler and Satan.

A few points.

I'm in a bad mood. I have work to do and I am in no fit mind set to do it efficiently.
That's a lie.
I have done the work, but there was little to do for it.

"This would be time that I would wake if I'd been to sleep at all and watch you dream"

I feel like i'm drowning in constant listlessness. I try not to let it be so, but, really, it's hard to maintain a positive attitude when you really cannot be fucked in doing so.
No reason.
No happiness.
Again, i'm just sick of pretending.

I'm lonely.
And not in a 'need amazing friends' kinda way, though that would help if I had some more.
No.
I need a man, desperately.
And someone I can actually fall in love.
I mean, i'm fucking too fickle as it is, but tbh, I think anyone would be with my choices.
They're all too pretentious and loud and annoying and idiotic.

There are people I do like, but, some I can't be arsed with, mainly due to the fact that I don't like them enough for it to matter, and that they can't really be fucking taking any notice of me.

And I wish I didn't have to keep writing notes of this nature, because, you know, I don't want to feel like this.
Obviously.
But, do you know what I mean?
I don't want to constantly be complaining about my lack of happiness.
I want to be in love because i know at this moment in time, it is the lack of emotion given and received that is making me so apathetic and listless.
I just want it to change, but, it's one of things only time will solve, but, how long i'll have to wait, is whole other planet.

Anyway, few notes on stuff i've been writing; I have been doodling and writing in varying notebooks I own for a while now, and I really want to showcase these pieces of thought, but, I feel a bit 'meh' just typing them up, so when i've got the scanner working with my Macbook, then, we'll see further posts of that nature.

Oh, it's all such hassle.

I think i'm running out of people. Interesting people.
Most people I seem to talk to now don't interest me, and there's only a small few who actually do.
I think those people know who they are, because I spend more time with them than anyone else gives me.
And that's one of the problems.
People don't seem to want me to know them enough.
They don't want to make the effort to know me either, because, as it would seem, i'm not worth it.
I try and instigate plans with people, but, constantly, they turn me down because they're too busy; they're too tired; or some other bollocks excuse.
And also, it's always me who tries to encourage activity.
I can't see how, if they actually care about me, that not paying an interest in me is proof.
The internet is lack-luster and i'm sick of using it for communication.
Fucking sick of it, but, most times, it's the only way to talk to people; people who don't even deserve it.

You get it with close friends; they're people who fill you with happiness and excitement upon talking to, and such.
I can shamefully say that there's no one who actually does for me.
Sure, there are people I like the fact that I know, and I like being around, but in terms of filling my heart with excitement, it's lacking for a lot of people in my life.
However, I think I've come to a conclusion to my problem, however, the problem is just solving it.

Friends aren't what I need right now.
I've been forgotten about by too many to actually care about putting my heart on anyone plutonic based.
I don't need a friend, I need a boyfriend.

Sure, I've wanted one for a fucking age and not gotten one due to the limitations of being quite fickle (or the fact that the stereotypical figure of a homosexual leaves me cringing and angry rather than aroused), but, it's finally gotten to a stage that I'm just sick of waiting and thinking that filling that place with friends will make me happy, because it wont.
I can't be around my friends the way I could be around a boyfriend. I want to be able to display intimacy with someone, but, I am always disappointed giving it to people I only like as friends.
Don't get me wrong, I like friends.
I like having friends, but, without having a boy I can cuddle and call my own, I'm rendered not happy.

I don't expect anything from you, reader, by the way.
I don't expect sympathy, an answer or scrutiny.
If you read my blog, you're reading the contents of my mind, and I'll be damned to apologise for them because I am not ashamed of myself or my thoughts and if i'm not happy with something, I don't want to pretend that It doesn't matter because other people think it's their business to bully me about it.
So, no, I don't want your opinions.
This blog is for me to write, and for you to read, but not to judge me because, after all, I'm not a murderer.

I have arms made of splintered glasses.
Don't hold me, dear.
I wouldn't want to harm you, dear.

I'm feeling quite tired. Today has been quite alright.
Apart from my little stop toward the evening and during.
Fine now.

Meh.

Half an hour until a meal with my parents.
Four hours until Video Nasties.
One Day until Alan's birthday.
Five days until Nevershoutnever!'s EP.
Fourteen days until Paul's birthday.
Seventeen days until that acoustic night with Smile Like Texas, Joey and someone else.
Twenty days until I see This Town Needs Guns in Liverpool.

I can't sleep without your breathing;

I wrote this today, whilst sitting in Starbucks: