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[01 Jun 2008|12:52am] |
Do you want to see the Bell Boys? I'm sure you do. Stop complaining. Firstly, let's have a run through. Tonight's suck quotient: Not that much, despite a flurry from about eight thirty. I'm nicely buzzed, thankyou.
I've been wondering why I write the things I do. What point they have, what possible reason, and what ultimate goal I wish to achieve with them. I can only conclude, they don't have one. They're simply what I feel, and what I feel is what I must write. Because...
I can't do anything else. It may not do me any good, but I can't not write it. To deny my true feelings would be worse. I'll not stem my flow any more. My own life is unremarkable enough, I wish to talk about some of the feelings that make me the exact opposite. Life's too short, after all.
What's remarkable about me is...whatever happens in this oddball life of mine, I still grow, and I always get better. I have a love I can only call my love, because I think it is something that is exclusive to me, held by me in my hands..an eternal firelight. It never goes out, no matter how much I blow on it. Is it desire? Lust? Compassion? Empathy? Or the love for a friend?
Nobody knows, I certainly don't. Love is to me defined by it's point in time and the experiences with which it is. It's not a love I can define. But it is overwhelming. Sometimes it feels romantic, sometimes it is simply a unifying bond. Sometimes it is a regression, sometimes an ambition. I am always confused, but never to the point where it is a detriment. I won't deny, I am pliant, I could be swayed so easily, but I am not. But I never lose control, even in my darkest moment. I am not so simply brushed aside by emotion.
I just daydream, and I just care. I sometimes get giddy thinking about things that aren't. But I don't mind those feelings. They keep my soul ticking, burst out into flower. I like the way they make me feel alive.
Misplaced feelings, I guess. I just think I don't give a shit. I kind of like it.
........................
Sorry about that. Anyway, here are the pictures that Mould took. The Bell Boys, taken on the thirty first of May.
From left to right: Dave, me, Rich, and Dan. Excuse that poxy cap. I didn't mean to be wearing it.
And here, Me, Rich, Dan, and Dave.
And that's it for today. I'll see you tomorrow.
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| Phylly's Made Up History. |
[01 Jun 2008|11:44am] |
The most popular tv show in France is called "Le canard étant poursuivi par un homme", and translated means "The duck being chased by a man", which is half an hour solely consisting of a duck running in a circle in a farmyard, being chased by a hairy farmhand, who shouts "Merde!" every five minutes.
Also, Amelie is the best French film ever, but because they know some of the English like it, copies are regularly burned in the street, while men spit on them going "PHEERH!"
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[01 Jun 2008|04:22pm] |
I woke up feeling grimy and dirty this morning, my whole body was covered in a dried sweat, and my skin felt like sin itself. I felt disgusting. After a bath, I felt a little better, but I still am not feeling 100%. There's something in the air, something that I don't like, something that causes my moods to fragment and scatter.
In other words, i'm having a bad hair day.
Sunday's suck quotient was bigger than Saturday's, by far. Still not enough to be that bad. I'm just glad this pox of a weekend is over.
If you want some thrilling live stuff, you could do worse than this unbeatable performance by MUSE, from the Reading festival.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K9-r82TakGY&eurl=http://lj-toys.com/?journalid=2829613&moduleid=143&preview=&auth_token=sessionless:1212332400:embedcontent
Hoo ah!
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[01 Jun 2008|04:57pm] |
The year is half over already. Half over. A minute ago, it was December. Now it's June. Time is just slipping away from me. That's all i'm afraid of. Time. The other day I thought about my sperm. Don't look at me like that. I was looking (out of curiosity, yeah?) at sperm donation sites. I heard you could earn cash from it, you see. The problem is, since 2005, any child born has a right to track it's biological father. So that's a no go, i'm afraid. I wasn't seriously thinking about it, I just thought about it.
But I read on the donation site that they looked for healthy males between 18-35. I am 31. I only have four years before my sperm is no longer good enough. Frightening. There's nothing wrong with what i've got, but it's sobering to know that in a few years time, my count will dive like a concrete sumo wrestler.
Hmmm..I don't even know if my sperm does work anyway. I've not got nobody up the duff yet. Not that i've had much opportunity, mind.
But yes, it's 2008, and if you think about it..i'm nearing halfway in my expected life expectancy. And i'm hurtling through these years without really knowing what i'm doing here.
There's nothing for it. Studying in September. Performing arts, if I can get it. I've got to stop going on about not having a woman. If I do something I like, maybe i'll meet some anyway. Who knows. I don't. That's why i'm asking, rhetorically. Now piss off.
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[01 Jun 2008|05:04pm] |
http://www.cant-col.ac.uk/studying-with-us/Courses/all-courses/btec-first-diploma-in-performance-acting-or-dance/?searchterm=acting
Look at this. It's probably ideal for me. The trouble is, it's probably full time, which would mean I couldn't do it. I have a job, after all. But I do have four GCSE's from D-E, I think. They're all shit, but I think I would qualify. Actually, no I wouldn't, I never did drama at school. Bollocks. I'll try to find something more bloody basic.
Either this or i'll go the other route and find a class that isn't academically related. Think I could act? I do. I've been wanting to for years. I have a theory that i'm one of those people that goes from being introverted to extroverted in wild extremes. It means that I could tap into the latter extreme, and use the adrenalin to do this. I really could. I'm not too old yet.
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