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WRITING TIMES

At night I think with clarity, and I get inspired to write and stuff. But during the day? Nada. Amen to study leave and extra holidays.

I don’t know how or why, but I think I’ve pretty much always been a nocturnal kid (for as long as I can remember anyway).

When life gives you nightmares, fear and anxiety and a generally over-active mind that does not stop no matter how much you want it to, you start to use it productively. You write lots of disturbing things about everything your vivid imagination is throwing at you, sing about everything running through your mind like your life depends on it and find anyway possible to get the thoughts from in your head to somewhere outside, in the open.

Regardless of whether people understand it or not, I have my own world in here, and I sure as hell don’t need to acknowledge reality when I’m in this bubble, so maybe one day I’ll lock myself in and never let myself out.

JOURNEY

Journey ahead.

I don’t really know who I am, but I am on the way to finding out. I have my whole life for that, right?

I figure that I am all the characters from the books and movies and songs I surround myself with, I am all the characteristics of my eccentric family and I am whatever is left, jumbled and senseless in between.

This journey is unpredictable, and I hope some of you will accompany me. If not, thanks for turning away because everything you do will lead to me becoming me, and so all I owe you is apprecation.

Who You Are

It’s so easy to forget who you are when you are surrounded by people who look like they are confident in themselves, successful in their own identities. Enviously, I stand amongst blurs of bustling figures in places like train stations, in sheer awe of the diversity and simultaneously bewildered as to where I fit in.

Sometimes, when I’m around certain people, at those desperate moments when being alienated isn’t an option, I feel like I could easily give anything to belong and so I camouflage myself into a person they’d be likely to assosciate with and I let go of anything remotely of my own personality persuasion. It’s easy, like wearing a mask. The problem is I don’t know what lies beneath the mask, it’s gotten so natural to wear one, I can’t even remember where it started or who I was before it was introduced.

You have no idea as to what I would give to be able to define myself, to know where I’m going in my life, what I want, how I can find people I can learn to trust to help me along the path. I find myself lost, unsure of what people see me as when they wander on their own daily adventures. Who am I? What do I have to offer the world? What am I doing with my life?

All I know is, inevitably, I will have to find myself, whether I want to or not. And everything you do or don’t do in the mean time will influence that. So thank you for reading, and thank you for having no advice, like nobody ever does with these things.

Filthy Little Humans

One day I will be strong enough to wipe the very mistake of your human existence from the windshield of my life, and I will not hesitate to completely and utterly destroy the cord, the last thread of any connection we ever shared, to a point it can never be salvaged. You made the mistake of deceiving me, boy. I cannot even begin to comprehend what possessed you as you first planned to turn against me, though I am perfectly aware that you have provoked a very interesting reaction with your charades. So the game begins. You run, and I will chase you. Rest assured I can count on several advantages to my form to ensure that when I eventually find you, and don’t worry as I can guarantee this will happen, our next meeting will not be so pleasant.

The fact of the matter remains that you cut through me like a knife through an artery, and for that, your purposeless life is unfortunately indebted to me, though I am constantly reminded that there is nothing you are capable of fulfilling. I feel that you should know that despite my somewhat scornful appearance, I do not completely blame you for driving your life in a new direction. I of course was in some way to blame and I will never forgive myself for the impulsive moment I even considered the idea of filth like you co-existing in a life like mine. I really did forget the massive difference between a Goddess like me and a rat like you, how different our lives really are. Of course it was too much to expect something productive, I must have truly been weak at the time.

There is one thing I would like to say, before I lose all form of civilisation and really go for the jugular, darling.  I would strongly recommend that the next time the very thought of sleeping with someone else dares to enter your mind, that you push it out. ‘Cause I can assure you that the next heart won’t be so forgiving, so accepting of your slimy nature. And I can also assure you that should she happen to fall into the trap of believing just one of those meaningless void words which leave your mouth, I will be there, silently but sure enough present, waiting for you to slip up. Just give me an excuse for a bloodbath and I’m all game, I don’t know why I’m waiting around for excuses, we all know what I am, so I sure as hell don’t need permission to do what my nature intends for me.

I am running out of time, well, that’s a lie. I’m running out of patience, and slowly beginning to wonder why I am approaching your betrayal with a mood so mild. And so I will finish this letter hastily, before I change my mind, drop the pen and skip to the gory.

Since I am so certain of your failure, I’m willing to give you a month from today to work your crappy magic, I’m provisionally pencilling our next meeting for early November. You’ll be free then? Never mind, I’m sure we can come to some sort of agreement.  Be sure to invest in some smart clothes, it would be such a shame for the funeral to be prolonged by your lack of consideration and I don’t have the time to waste in making you presentable for the few idiots who might be obliged by blood to intend. We wouldn’t want people to get the wrong idea about dearest Thomas, right?

'Things are looking up, well finally...'

Never thought I’d be able to quote that Paramore song because I never truly felt like I believed in the words, but as of late, I think I can safely say that I’m at a point in my life where things are coming together. Slowly but surely, the fragmented aspects of school, home and family, work and music and everything else in my life is blending harmoniously, at least for the time being.

Since I last came on Tumblr (which was a long time ago…), a lot of things have changed. It’s been seventeen long years, and you’d think that’d be time enough to learn about who you are as an individual, but I can honestly say I’m not even remotely sure as to who I am or where I’m going. There was a time when I did know, but the certainty of everything faded away and that’s both a good and bad thing, to some extent. I think this weird lack of solidarity is what finally pushed me over the edge (as well as other things) and it took a lot of things to make me realise I needed help for some issues I have.

I’ve now accepted some things and I’m going to find solutions, or at least preventative actions to help me improve as a person so I can just move the freak on and be content, or happy or whatever it is that I should be feeling.

So the moral of this post, which marks the beginning of a new perspective/me both online and offline, is that sometimes you have to talk to someone in order to feel some sort of release and that somehow, there will be someone listening :)

Y'ELLO TWITTER

Recently, my outlook has been, for lack of better words, miserable. I don’t know what switched, or how, but suddenly I am shifting back into that awful place of stress and tension and just genuinely feeling as though I would like to sleep in peace and not be awoken for a few months so I can regain strength and perspective.

In all honesty, I feel that my main issue has something to do with being around people. Strange, I know. But it’s so true. My tolerance for people has gone from relatively high to a plummeting low and I sound like Scrooge minus the excuse of Christmas… I think I might use Tumblr as my ongoing diary, and yeah, I have an actual physical diary that I use everyday but I figure improving my writing skills with the hope at least one person will read this blog might actually be productive, so prepare for some more miserable observations.

COOL PEERS

I can’t deny I have some pretty amazing people in my life, and I’ve only realised recently exactly how much I ought to appreciate those people. If there’s one thing I’ve achieved this year, it’s the contentment of knowing that no matter how *substitute word here* things get, if you work at resolving issues with your family, everything is actually relatively manageable. I have an example of a legend.

My dad is Mufasa, and I am Simba. And that is something I have known since I was approximately five years old. I forgot how cool my dad was following the inevitable realisation when I was about eleven that actually my dad was human and had a couple of flaws and wasn’t actually invincible the way I had considered him to be for all those years. However, I am happy to say that this year, through all the *substitute word here*, I am closer to my dad than I think I have ever been before. He’s funny and cool, and most importantly understanding which is especially important because I’m by no means an easy kid to deal with…

Freak! D:

I am not the most conventional kid, and anybody who has even briefly encountered me will know exactly how low my levels of normalcy really are.

The stereotypes are floating all around and there is this huge expectation I feel when the majority of people have when they see me, skin colour, age, fashion sense and loads of other things just come crashing into one majorly (probably wrong) initial impression…

Just to confirm, I don’t belong in the ordinary classification, and by that, I mean I am not in any way, shape or form the kid you imagine me to be.

A few important facts, there’s millions more though: I don’t wear a lot of make-up. I like jeans and hoodies. I am rarely seen to be dressing like the average girl with feminine clothes and what-not. I carry at least the minimum of two books and my diary as well as songwriting book in my bag at all times. I have a septum piercing. I have a tattoo. I listen to lots of different music. I sing in a band. I like writing stories and songs and don’t really get numbers or logical stuff like sciences. I love movies. I’m not particularly religious, and I don’t know if I ever will be. I like astrology and spiritual stuff. I like Jackass.

Finally, to conclude, you can tell me I’m not normal and that I’m a freak but ultimately those names mean nothing because I am what I am. And I refuse to be anything different.

REALISATION TIMES

Whilst I was stood at a gig, watching two bands I absolutely adore on some sort of elusive leaving-the-house-and-not-being-an-antisocial-freak tangent, several majorly important things occured to me.

1) I’d heard a lot of rumours, but as I noticed the bands who were due to be playing merge with the people who’d come to watch I couldn’t help but ask myself: Could it really be true that a lot of musicians earn a certain level of arrogance as they progress in terms of acknowledgement and praise? I constantly think to myself, how could anybody possibly brag they have nothing more to learn about their art or walk around truly believing they own the music scene? I for one can’t even begin to imagine ever being in a position that would mean I am beyond acquiring more knowledge and experience, and if one truly believes that there is a level from which you can do whatever you want simply because of what a reputation and status might imply, they are constricted by their own self-obsessed motivation that overtakes the simple enjoyment of what they do.

2) I reaaaaally have an issue with talking/interacting with people. A resolution I definitely need to work on this year is sorting myself out so I can make friends, girlfriends and boyfriends etc. Else I am really, truly going to die alone (bleak thought, I’ll end that realisation there before I digress and get reaaally depressed) :|

3) I want to make my music count this year. I love my band to bits. Mindless Art are my escape from the screwed up place that is reality. I’M GOING TO MAKE THIS COUNT.

This was a smashing gig, by all means. I loved every moment of it and I would definitely go to see every single one of these bands again :)

Illusory Centre

I’ve seen Illusory Centre perform several times, and I’ve just been astounded by their recent E.P ‘The Den’ which, can I just say, served as some sort of catalyst for a major write up last week (I also managed to bag a cheeky personalised physical E.P last night at the gig, so that was a major win). I wrote four whole pages of a recycled novel concept up whilst listening to just Merging Words since something clicked and prompted the words to just spill out. I highly recommend checking them out since they are such lovely guys, and I’m not just saying that because Jack Winn (the lead vocalist) provided me with the means to get home by giving me a taxi number on a crisis night once…

They’re on Facebook under ‘Illusory Centre’

And their E.P is available on their Bandcamp for a cheeky listen: http://illusorycentre.bandcamp.com/

NGOD

I’ve got to say I deeply regret not staying to see NGOD last year at the Bollocks To Poverty gig at Bradford Playhouse. I had been there anyway playing a set with Lee (when I was the vocalist for Broken Toy Brigade) and for some strange reason I will never quite understand, chose to leave before their set began. Due to my bro Ravi’s very out-of-hand obsession with listening to NGOD at every and any possible opportunity, I became all too aware of what a tragic mistake I had made by not seeing them almost a month after the opportunity had been lost, and ever since, thought, ‘Crap, I fail at life so severely’.

Luckily, when I saw this event being pushed on Facebook I saw the light and made the effort to go down, which was well worth it for just a tiny £3 entry. Yesterday’s set was exciting and filled with a mixture of new material and older classics (all delivered with such amazing energy) that many of the fans in the audience were singing along to (Jake Lees, Ravi and I had a ball when C2579Z was played as an encore).

You all definitely need to check out their recorded materials from both E.P’s on Bandcamp: http://ngod.bandcamp.com/

And search for NGOD on Facebook, because they are most certainly existent on there.

The Kabeedies

Out of all the bands to play, I have to admit, I was least familiar with The Kabeedies simply because I hadn’t seen or heard of them playing in Bradford recently (and I’ve only recently within the last year as a result of being in BTB myself emerged from the fiery depths of isolation in my house and come to understand socialising isn’t actually always bad…). I was fascinated by the energy from their set, and as soon as the first song began everybody was dancing and having a ball in the audience, which for me was a great sign that The Kabeedies were going to be a lot of fun and that I had made the right decision staying on a little longer. Despite the fact I’d never heard the material before, everything sounded strangely familiar, though I’m not sure if that was simply because I was jumping around so much I’d forgotten to pay attention to the content of the music, but regardless, I had fun and so did everybody else including the band members themselves, which is always cool to see :)

The Kabeedies are on Facebook under, you guessed it, The Kabeedies (the clue is in the name…)

And also the link for their Bandcamp for you lovely souls: http://thekabeedies.bandcamp.com/

Many thanks to Tess and Jack for putting on the whole event, it was brilliant!