Saturday, 30 November 2013

London After 7pm

It struck me the other week. I was at a friends house warming party, mid/late twenty somethings. All everyone wanted to do was get drunk as quickly as possible.

"Get the drinks"

"Where're the drinks?"

"I bought some..."

"Can I get some for you?"

My friend, quite our of character, said of me and my other friend "they don't drink". Really R?! I don't know what she was playing at, but I have never refused a drink!

Was she nervous or something? Why was she putting me together with our other friend B, because she doesn't, can't because she gets sick (yeah right), won't. I'm nothing like B personality wise. Why would she say that? Well, it made me look anti-social, and there's the point. I know this is stating the obvious, but it really is almost rude if you don't drink. I had no intention of getting pissed, and I could see, especially with the guys there, it was a crutch for them socially. They couldn't imagine having a good time without drink. Some people arrived already half way there with bottle in hand.

So I left after three drinks with B the teetotal. It was near midnight.

I've been looking for a late night cafe in London (24 hour really), but they don't seem to exist. I came across a thread on Allinlondon.co.uk asking this very question...

I went to Tallinn in Estonia for New Year with some friends a couple of years ago and one of the things that really struck me over there is how people are quite happy to go out and while away an evening in a cafe or coffeeshop - even until way after midnight... just drinking coffee or tea! They had plenty of late-night cafes over there and they were always packed and really lively.

It seems to be that if you're out past 7pm in the UK you've got to have a beer or a glass of wine in your hand and be well on your way to getting trollied. It's obviously just a different outlook engendered over there.

Anyway, I was wondering if there are any spots where you can do this in London or is there not as much call for it?
 And I thought I was the only one! Maybe I should make a trip to Estonia to see if this really is true. That would be my dream night-out.

It made me quite sad that some of the people I knew there, whenever I do see them (just a few times a years), all they ever are to me are people who just want to get drunk. We may have a start to an interesting conversation, but we never get to know each other better because they seem to be so insecure about themselves, all they want to do is hide behind the drink. I've 'known' some of these people for years, and I don't know a thing about them. I find it sad and frustrating, sometimes I think I should've stayed to see them deteriorate, maybe the mask will come off? Who the fuck knows...?? Maybe I should find some new friends.

Friday, 29 November 2013

Punishment

That's what my body is telling me I deserve. It's at war with me, with life. It's winning. I have no chance whatsoever. And it knows it. Mocking, joking, laughing every time I look in the mirror, every time some guy turns away from me in repulsion. My body is a cruel joke. It has the form of life, but don't get too close, because what you will find is death. Not just mine, but yours too.

Choose Life, She'll Make You Happy

Go
She'll make you happy
All the things you dreamed of doing
You'll be able to do with her
All the places you ever wanted to go
Go with her
She'll make you happy
You'll make each other happy
Can't you see?
There's no life here
I've been dead all my life
I could never live
Not the way you want it
I could never be enough for you
Life will always win over death
Like me
You have no choice
My life chose death for me to live
Every time I see you and her together
Living
Free
Free to live
That's my death each and every time
That's my life
Living that death every moment it passes me by
A constant reminder of what I could never have
Life

Thursday, 8 August 2013

I Must Go On, like everyone else

I love The Actors Studio (ok, the sound of ass kissing from Jim is sometimes OTT). I watched Colin Firths interview the other day and he mentioned this quote from The Unnameable by Samuel Beckett:

I must go on. I can't go on. I'll go on.

It's no more than that, it's no more heroic, it's the human condition.

Saturday, 15 June 2013

Robinson Crusoe Blogging

This is exactly what I've been doing here on this blog, though not deliberate...I had no idea there were others like me.

Haste, Scorned: Blogging at a Snail’s Pace

WHEN Barbara Ganley wants to collect her thoughts, she walks in the Vermont countryside, wanders home and blogs about it. In a recent post, she wrote about the icy impressions left in the snow by sleeping deer. In another, she said she wanted to commute by bicycle and do more composting.

If her blog, bgblogging.wordpress.com, sounds slow and meandering, it is. But that’s the point. Ms. Ganley, 51, is part of a small, quirky movement called slow blogging.

The practice is inspired by the slow food movement, which says that fast food is destroying local traditions and healthy eating habits. Slow food advocates, like the chef Alice Waters of Chez Panisse in Berkeley, Calif., believe that food should be local, organic and seasonal; slow bloggers believe that news-driven blogs like TechCrunch and Gawker are the equivalent of fast food restaurants — great for occasional consumption, but not enough to guarantee human sustenance over the longer haul.

A Slow Blog Manifesto, written in 2006 by Todd Sieling, a technology consultant from Vancouver, British Columbia, laid out the movement’s tenets. “Slow Blogging is a rejection of immediacy,” he wrote. “It is an affirmation that not all things worth reading are written quickly.” (Nor, because of a lack of traffic, is Mr. Sieling writing this blog at all these days.) Ms. Ganley, who recently left her job as a writing instructor at Middlebury College, compares slow blogging to meditation. It’s “being quiet for a moment before you write,” she said, “and not having what you write be the first thing that comes out of your head.”

On her blog, Ms. Ganley juxtaposes images and text as she reflects on the local landscape. She tends to post once or twice a week, but sometimes she can go a month or so without proffering something new.

Some slow bloggers like to push the envelope of their readers’ attention even further. Academics post lengthy pieces about literature and teaching styles, while techies experiment to see how infrequently they can post before readers desert them. This approach is a deliberate smack at the popular group blogs like Huffington Post, the Daily Beast, Valleywag and boingboing, which can crank out as many as 50 items a day. On those sites, readers flood in and advertisers sign on. Spin and snark abound. Earnest descriptions of the first frost of the season are nowhere to be found.

In between the slow bloggers and the rapid-fire ones, there is a vast middle, hundreds of thousands of writers who are not trying to attract advertising or buzz but do want to reach like-minded colleagues and friends. These people have been the bedrock of the genre since its start, yet recently there has been a sea change in their output: They are increasingly turning to slow blogging, in practice if not in name.

“I’m definitely noticing a drop-off in posting — I’m talking about among the more visible bloggers, the ones with 100 to 200 readers or more,” said Danah Boyd, a doctoral candidate at the University of California, Berkeley, who studies popular culture and technology. “I think that those people who were writing long, thought-out posts are continuing, but those who were writing, ‘Hey, check this out’ posts are going to other forums. It’s a dynamic shift.”

Technology is partly to blame. Two years ago, if a writer wanted to share a link or a video with friends or tell them about an upcoming event, he or she would post the information on a blog. Now it’s much faster to type 140 characters in a Twitter update (also known as a tweet), share pictures on Flickr, or use the news feed on Facebook. By comparison, a traditional blogging program like WordPress can feel downright glacial. Ms. Ganley, the blogger in Vermont, has a slogan that encapsulates the trend: “Blog to reflect, Tweet to connect.” Blogging, she said, “is that slow place.”

Another reason some bloggers have slowed down is sheer burnout. Siva Vaidhyanathan, a professor at the University of Virginia, shuttered his popular blog, Sivacracy, in September, in part because he was exhausted by the demands. “When you run your own blog, there’s a lot of imaginary pressure to publish constantly, to be witty, to be good, and nobody can live with that,” he said in an interview.
These days, he fires off short, pithy comments on Twitter, but has another blog that he says is “more of a specialized project for in-depth thought.” Here, he shares ideas for an upcoming book, which posits that Google has infiltrated our culture to a worrisome extent.

Andrew Sullivan, perhaps the world’s best-read political blogger, talked about the burnout factor in an article in November’s Atlantic magazine called “Why I Blog.” He said in an interview posted on the magazine’s Web site that during the election, his readers became so addicted to his stream of posts that he sometimes set his blog to post automatically so he could go to lunch. When he took two days off to make sense of “the whole Sarah Palin thing,” his audience flipped, thinking he was dead or silenced.

“You can’t stop,” Mr. Sullivan said in the online interview. “The readers act as if you’ve cut off their oxygen supply, and they just flap around like a goldfish out of water until you plop them back in.”
Slow blogging is something of a philosophical rebuttal to this dynamic. While some bloggers may just be naturally slow — think of the daydreaming schoolmate who used to take forever to get the assignment done — others are more emphatic about the purpose of taking their time.

Russell Davies, a new media consultant in London, has started what may be the ultimate experiment in slow-blogging: Dawdlr. He has turned the instantaneousness of Twitter on its head by asking readers to send him snail-mail postcards answering the question posed to Twitter users, “What are you doing now?” He scans the postcards and puts them up, once every six months, on his site, dawdlr.tumbler.com. A recent postcard contained whimsical line drawings of cats and the words, “Trying not to look back.”

Mr. Davies said his goal was to see if slowing down promoted a greater thoughtfulness. It did, he said, but then again, because Dawdlr is updated so infrequently, few people have heard of it.
“It is an investigation into the Internet’s attention span,” Mr. Davies said by telephone.

Even Mr. Sieling, the writer of the Slow Blog Manifesto, gave up his personal blog because he felt no one was reading it. “I called it the Robinson Crusoe feeling of blogging,” he said by e-mail, “and I think it’s common.”

Friday, 31 May 2013

Truly - No one gives a shit

Another post about my fucking cousins and a so-called friend. Them, who think they can just come round and make themselves home, them who think it's alright to buy take away food and get fucking offended when you don't really want any because you're fucking allergic to it. But still take offense and make snide comments like 'is she scared of getting fat'. Them who think its alright to not even consider weather we've already gone to the trouble to make real home cooked food, who didn't bother asking. Them who don't even bother lifting a finger to 'really' help, not just ask because it's fucking polite, but genuinely want to help. Them fuckers, ungrateful, self-absorbed, really couldn't give a shit about you, fuckers. Where are their fucking manners?! They just don't care about anything but their own amusement, what they can get out of a situation.

And then I go to talk to a 'friend'. All she can do is rant on about her fucking little stupid troubles. I've been having a really bad couple of months, I feel completely lost, hopeless. I've always been there for her, listened, cheered her up when she was down. I've never asked for anything. Thats my problem, nobody listens to my problems, no one wants to know, really know. Instead she rants on about getting paid slightly less than her colleagues. In this recession, when people are struggling with minimum wage, she gets paid double that after getting lucky. She only had one job before this and then straight to a decent paid job and all she can do is moan. Then she fucking tells me she got her boyfriend a job at the same place, after telling her I would love to get a job there, get that kind of wage.

She couldn't stop going on about getting paid £1,000 less than £21,000, so I hung up. She's got no responsibilities, no rent to pay, no mortgage, no kids, no pressure from family, happy with the bf. She doesn't know what shes got, and when I tell her, it's not enough.

I've decided that I'm not going to see anyone for the next couple of months. I've had enough of their self-absorbed fucking lives. Did this friend really give a shit about me? Is that what she calls friendship.

Monday, 27 May 2013

Mind Over Matter

That radiating pain which I posted about here 3 years ago, has intensified. I can feel it, particularly down my arms and to the tips of my fingers. The joints of my hands physically turn red, and a burning, electric sensation fueled by my utter sadness and hopelessness runs down into my hands. What is this?

Sunday, 26 May 2013

You're A Freak

I've always felt different. I've never felt I've ever fit in anywhere, even with my own family.

This was brought home to me today. Two older female cousins came to visit, I always try to avoid them, as I feel totally disconnected, having nothing in common. They, for some reason, had some clothes samples they wanted to give away. I was honest with them and told them it wasn't really my thing, they seemed a bit slighted.

Later on, my male cousin with his fiancee and step kids came along. So, they offered her the clothes which were gratefully accepted. A full on fashion show ensued and they even offered her some very feminine shoes which they did not show me. Obviously I wasn't the right type of girl for those, but I couldn't help but feel completely inadequate and self conscious that I wasn't part of this, that I couldn't be like them. What was wrong with me? I sat apart from all this, feeling not exactly left out, but made to feel I was not enough of a woman, that I was some sort of freak, an accepted freak in the corner looking out.

I'm actually happy with the way I dress, I like what I like. Nobody tells me otherwise. I know myself very well, I have strong opinions. It almost felt like I was being put in my place in the world, and there was nothing I could do to change that.

My cousins fiancee is very attractive, perfect skin, perfect slim body, perfect straight hair, well turned out, has two sweet kids. Put her in a room and all the guys would look in her direction. I know I'm physically inferior. I've already accepted that. I suppose because the difference was so blatantly on display, I wanted to just die there.

Over the past year or two, I've never felt so low, it's been really bad. Sometimes I can't stop having these thoughts until they overwhelm me and I start to well up. It been so consistent that even writing about it here has stopped. I try to snap out of it with my War blog, and that usually works...someone always has it worst than you.

Friday, 24 May 2013

Safe Reality

I am reeling from watching the series Homeland. One word: Crap, crap, crap. I can't believe this won awards for best drama and acting?! This isn't going to be a review, I'll have to save my spurn for when I calm down.

One way to do that is to actually take a good dose of reality. I need to be reassured reality is not the way it's been portrayed in this lazy ass excuse of 'best drama'. I don't mind ridiculous plots or people, just as long as it's believable.

After watching 4 episodes I couldn't stand it any longer. I went straight to NY Times war blog. Articles about the military, the wars and many written by veterans. Many people escape to fantasy worlds, into lives and places beyond them, into the crap on tv. I feel safe in reality, an assurance that people aren't flat 2D stereotypes, that there is more to life than getting laid, thinking about getting laid, and who's available to get laid - that's how crude Homeland is.

I do have more, but I think it's enough for now.

Tuesday, 30 April 2013

Back From The Living

Or should I say half life. Yes, things haven't much changed atall. No, things seem firmly set into place, no matter what I do, how much I try, they stay the same. Now, though, things that I know are bad seem even more so.

The Grey (Gray) Area is taking up the time I used to have, maybe that's a good thing, something that is worth the distraction from the mundane.

Human in the Age of Technology & Consummerism

Press a button, swipe a screen and there you go. You've existed for a millisecond, poof!   If you've come across this very short blo...