An audio assault through the eyes of the meek...

The world, as it stands is ready.
Ready for the audio assault that I plan on launching.
The music scene as I see it needs shaking up. It needs grabbing by its scrawny little neck and throwing across the room until it realises that no matter what people do to/with it, it will still bounce back and though it might look a little more 'ugly', we will still love it with the same passion we did when we first experienced it properly.

Now some of you may be questioning my authority to declare this kind of audio assault, and I will openly declare that I have no kind of authority on the matter.

But... I don't need any authority.

As listeners and creators of music we do not need authority to be passionate about something and I think it is time that the listeners and creators of music took back what is rightfully theirs: the passion and spirit to create what they want, to listen to what they want.

Of late I believe that record companies have started to tighten their grip over bands and artists and I believe that art for the sake of art is being lost deep within the depths of bureaucracy and money.

I haven't heard a really decent album in a while that I didn't think was trying to grab at five minutes of fucking "fame"or make more money than the last album. It saddens me that music has lost its fundamental reason for being.

I will agree that there are some great artists out there, doing great things and making great music with a really awesome ethic (The Bloody Beetroots are a great example of this) and I'm not oging to knock them. It's just it would seem that these musicians are in the minority and it saddens me that the one thing on many bands minds is getting a record deal or making the top 20.

If anyone have ever head of Dub FX you will know that he is forging a career without having a record label. (As are Enter Shikari)

For those that don't know, a little description is in order.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dub_FX

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UiInBOVHpO8

Dub FX is a street busker who uses nothing but his voice, a loop pedal and some effects to create music live on the street.

He uses a combination of beatboxing, singing and 'rapping' to create a melange of sounds that spand many different genres. He speaks from his heart and claims to be truly independant using only, live performance, word of mouth and internet social networking to self promote and create interest.

The work ethics of this guy are so fantastically awesome because he is basically doing music for subsistence. He is making music so he can eat food and sleep under a roof at night. He is not in it for the money, he is in it to create. And the stuff that he is creating is most definitely art. It is pure and unadulterated art because he has no record label telling him that he has to change his sound or sell more records or whatever. He could have a 'normal', boring job and he could be making lots of money and have a fancy car but he's chosen a simple life so that he can do what he wants.

I admire that a lot and plan on using that in my ethic in the near future as I try and forge myself a life creating and playing music.

With lyrics such as:

"I aint gonna spend my time wandering why I never made it
I’ve already made it
I aint gonna spend my days thinking about why I never made it
I've already made it"

I can't see why anyone wouldn't want to have a worth ethic like his.


Now, time to update on my musical plans:

Novoseven: I am currently in the process of writing an EBM/Aggrotech album for my university course. This will consist of hard heavy danceable beats with lots of distortion and screaming! I will also be trying to get some live gigs for this. It's going to take a while but in the not too distant future I will have an albums worth of songs to force into your ears and infect your mind with.

Random band: I am in the process of setting up and writing some songs for a random band that will consists of me and three of my university friends; Kate - vocals and guitar, Ollie - drums, Sam - bass, Me - guitar. It will be jump up and dance rock. I want it to be something like UnderOath mixed with The All American Rejects with less screaming, but seeing as this is a band the other members will get their say as well. We will hopefully be getting some gigs next year.

Cosmic Fallacies: At the moment this is a solo project but I'm hoping I can find someone who's up for collaborating . This will be a trancey, summery, spacey, 'chilled out but get up and dance' project. As of yet I only have a few half finished samples for this but I will be working on more stuff in the near future. This will be a production and dj project as opposed to a live thing.

Random drum and bass: This is my idea to do some heavy, distorted bass inspired drum and bass. Imagine if The Prodigy met Pendulum started a fight and then teamed together to fight Sub Focus and Chase & Status. It's going to be fast, hard, bass heavy and full of haunting melodies. Once again this is going to be a dj project as opposed to a live thing.

Phew, even writing that made me tired. I'm going to be one busy motherfucker!

To be honest though, I love music so much that I am really excited about everything I have planned. It's going to take lots of dedication but I have music running through my veins and if I could choose one thing to live on for the rest of my life it would have to be music.


I could live on music and love I'm sure.

I love being creative, from creating the first notes/beats of a song to finishing it right the way through to working out an album cover and "image" for that particular project.

Fuck yeah.

xx

Song of the day: Dub FX - Rude Boy

Quote of the day: "We're all in the gutter but some of us are looking at the stars." - Oscar Wilde & "It is very easy to dream, but is takes all the strength you have to reach out and grab them." - David Broadhurst

Meme

Stolen from Shanonindryad because it has the potential to be interesting. I might not keep my opinions on a lot of controversial topics to myself but having people ask about them could be interesting for me to attempt to explain my views.

Basically ask about anything, mundane or unusual and I will answer as truthfully and honestly as I can.

1. Comment in this post with any topic at all.
2. I shall write you back a paragraph or varying amounts of words explaining what I think about it (good, bad, indifferent) and why.
3. Repost in your own journal if you want.

xx

The Great Escape

Those of you who know me will know that I have a passion and longing for something that is more that I could eve know by staying in one place for too long. I have a tendancy to jump from idea to idea at the drop of a hat and aspire to the spontaneous lifestyle that could only be brought by the lifestyle of the "leather-tramp".

This passion and longing extends deeper into my own psyche and comes forth in the advent of constantly changing emotions. These emotions manifest themselves in a desire to love and be loved.

And so my dear readers (if indeed anybody does actually read this), it is with great pleasure that I announce I HAVE A GIRLFRIEND!

The desire to love and be loved is stronger than ever and everything in the world seems to fit into place as if life were one, great, cosmic jigsaw.

Right now I want to scream my jubilation from the very tops of the highest peaks with the loudest voice I have, thundering over the countryside below making birds sing in exaltation and making the bells chime like the single greatest moment of all humankind has come to pass in one mere second, preceded by a flutter of the heart and a nervous whisper, and succeeded by a gentle kiss of adoration and joy.


This could not have come at a better time either because I have now successfully managed to destroy the symptoms of mild S.A.D. that usually come with winter. I have made my great escape and I couldn't be happier!


"Dearest, Annie, let us please spend tonight on top of the world, we could do anything, we could be anything."

And now when you are all done "squeeing" and saying cute things, I shall bid you adieu.

xx

Quote of the day: "And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom."

Song of the day: Farewell to the Fairground - White Lies

The world will not fall into your lap

If there was one piece of advice I could give anyone then it would be this:

Find the deepest darkest corner in the deepest darkest room; question why you're "different", question why you're not happy, question why you look shit, question why you feel shit, question why you're questioning yourself.

Then put on your favourite tunes, clear a space, turn on the light and dance until your lungs give out; dance yourself silly; dance like nobody's watching, hell dance like the whole world's watching; and sing, sing like if you didn't sing hte plug would be pulled on planet earth, sing like you're a diva, sing like you're a poet, sing like you're angry, sing like you're happy, sing like you haven't got a care in the world.


Then leave your room, head straight out of the front door, straight into the street and do the first thing that comes into your head.

xx

An artist has to run...

I saw this today and it inspired me beyond belief. No words could have been spoken more truly.



“Every day an artist gets up and knows he has to run. He has to run faster than the distant fragments of our time, faster than the voices hemming him in, telling him that however much he thinks, imagines, writes, or communicates, the system has already found a new way of drowning him out.
Faster than the army of pretentious pinheads boasting artistic bollox, screaming their cheapskate anger, selling out for twenty seconds of fame, filling their arses with gold so they can say I was there, applauding midgets dressed up as giants.
He knows he has to chase ideals that have packed their bags And run off to the nearest tourist haven or tax haven and chase gods that ask for a discount on the rent on olympus and apartments with a view of the clouds because, if they look down, they say they get an urge to throw up.
Down here, it’s all ours, it all belongs to men and women, but it’s common knowledge that we’ve never had a particular talent for doing things well.
Every day an artist gets up and knows he has to run. What he doesn’t know, perhaps, is that he doesn’t have to run …alone”.

I am going to turn my writing/producing up a notch or two.

Love.
Learn.
Laugh.
Live.

xx

The intoxicating beauty of life...

21 years ago to this very day my wonderul mother endured what I can only describe as one of the most beautifully painful things that any women will ever have to endure. It is such a beautifully natural thing to behold, and as human beings I believe many of us have lost the sense of wonder that childbirth used to fill people with. Of course nowadays we know what happens and why and so the enchanting mystery seems to be lost. But it doesn't have to be. Each birthday I spend at least 5 minutes just thinking about the beauty that must have been created at that moment. Not a physical beauty (although if I do say so myself...) but rather a sense of beauty. The sense that everything in the world is filled with joy and love and hope. The sense that a life has been created. The sense that watching that life grow will be more than joyous.

Each and every year I can tell that my mother still has a love/hate relationship with 1:20p.m. on Saturday 30th September, the love being for the moment I was placed into her arms and the hate being for well... you get the picture. Although when I was placed into her arms the relief and love were all the more greater seeing as how 30 minutes previous I'd been snatched from her as she was told "we think their might be a hole in his skull". As it turns out there is no hole in my skull (which is kinda sucky in that a hole in my skull would account for many things that seem to be wrong with me).


So, here I am again. Another year gone by and another list of things, some accomplished and many forgotten about. I've had many highs and many lows and all of them have helped shape the person I am at this moment. It's odd when you think about how one moment could have changed everything. For instance, if I hadn't sent one particular facebook message I would never have met "the original woman", and thus I would never have grown as close as I am to my best friend. I'm glad things turned out the way they did though. And I'm glad things have turned out the way they have with my life in general.

I had to go through shit at highschool to realise that college would be so much more fun and that I'd actually make some friends. I had to fail one university course to see that I was capable of being independant. Everything works out in the end. Although it is with hindsight that I wish I had foresight.

Today is a time for immense reflection for me. I'm finally back at university, embarking on my journey as a student, after a year of not finding a job. This time last year I was filled with vigour to get finding a job after my disastrous failing my first year at Lancaster University. After about a week though that vigour dissappeared and for about a year I vegetated. I had a good time while I was doing it but mentally I vegetated.

This time though I'm not going to vegetate. This time I'm going to work like I've never worked beofre. Then I'm going to party long and hard. I'm going to get to gigs, I'm going to play some gigs, I'm going to dj at some parties, I'm going to run, laugh, jump and skip my way through the joys of life and I 'aint gonna stop until I've laughed myself silly, high on the intoxicating beauty of life. :D


This was meant to be longer and more rambling but I have a lecture soon so I'm going to finish up here and continue later.

xx

Soulmates never die

Soulmates never die. An addage that has stuck with me ever since the sweet sultry voice of Brian Molko whispered those words into my woefully depressed teenage ears. It's about the most evocative song and powerful song that didn't get ruined by my depression and the fear of crying I always get when listening to songs like "December" by Hawthorne Heights and "Wake up" by Coheed and Cambria. But I digress.

I came here with the intention of writing a beautifully painful blog but it would seem all I can do is sit here listen to "This Picture" by Placebo and will away the tears that seem to be welling up inside me; although I know deep down I really just want to let go completely. That's not going to happen though. It never will. My tears seemed to dry up when I was very young. My parents used to occasionally hold gatherings of close family friends and if this was so I would be fed with my sister (if indeed she was alive at this point; I do not remember) and then sent to bed. It wasn't like I was banished from the presence of guests and alcohol I think the theory was just that if I went to bed earlier then I would not be disturbed by the "gathering" (for want of a better word). The opposite was in fact the case. I was always disturbed. And I always felt left out. This meant that it was not uncustomary for me to sit in my bed and force tears to stream down my face until someone using the bathroom would hear the noise and investigate before fetching my mother. And so I believe that is the reason why I didn't cry at my Grandad's funeral. And I also believe it's about the only reason I'm not crying now.

I can't seem to get to the point. Maybe if I ramble long enough it will come pouring out like the long forgotten memory of a holiday that has just been restored to technicolour; or maybe it will fade into the night in black and white.

So, let's get to the stuff that whilst not mundane is not really the point of this blog post.

London

So, Me and a certain very special friend of mine (she knows who she is) took a trip down to good 'ol London Town. Seh had a ticket to see Rage Against the Machine and whilst I didn't I offered to accompany her down so that she didn't have to be around London on her own. This also provided me with ample oppertunity to head to Camden! *insert smiley face here*

So we headed off at some stupid time on Sunday morning, me driving us to Preston where we parked and caught the coach down to London. We arrived 5 hours later at 7a.m feeling groggy but by no means sleep-deprived. From there we made our way to Camden Town where we proceeded to peruse all the awesome alternative shops. I bought an awesome t-shirt that is the "Darkside of the moon" (Pink Floyd album) cover on it buty instead of a triangle it has Darth Vader's head. I also got a nicely weirded out electronic album by a guy called Squaremetre which is also awesome.

From there we had food and then headed to Finsbury Park where I left my friend to go enjoy herself whilst I waited in a pub for a few hours, listening to music and writing poetry.

This is where it gets interesting. And by interesting I mean this is where it goes wrong. I've told so many people the same story that I cannot even be bothered to type it so I'm going to just say that there was a crush of people getting on the tube and that as a result we just missed our coach home. Fortunately my friends parents live in Birmingham and came and picked us up (for which I am very grateful. We then headed back to her house in Birmingham and stayed there for two nights before heading home.

That's that part of the blog. It's not something that unimportant it's just something that I will probably blog about later.

Now onto the real purpose for the blog.

My Grandma.

She's deteriorating.

I don't really know what else to say about it. It's always been a little joke between us that she can never remember my name. She will always call me the name of my two cousins, the name of my dad and even the name of my sister before she finally finds my name but these days it seem sto be taking her longer to remember my name and she keeps getting more confused not only about the things I do tell her but also about the things that we haven't told her. She's starting to mix the real and imaginary with the ease of someone like Tolkein or Pratchet and it's becoming disconcerting. I'd noticed sometime last summer that she might be beginning to "lose it" slightly but it never seemed this bad. But I guess that's how it is, you know like Mike Campbell in The Sun Also Rises "Slowly then suddenly".

I'd noticed last time I'd seen her recently that she'd been perhaps a little more unsteady on her feet and that she'd had more aches and pains and trouble sitting down and things like that. But the gravity of the situation hadn't really hit me until earlier this evening when I Was playing the piano. Maybe the fact that I was singing triggered a faint memory of some long forgotten school performance that I'd done many years ago but whatever it was made my Grandma start to cry uncontrolably.

And so it was that I was stood hugging my Grandma while she sobbed into my shoulder.

I do not know what else to say about this but it's something that is going to continue to plague me for a while I can feel.

I'm beginning to think that this is why I've been having a a run of "bad" luck lately. I don't think I've done anything particularly "bad" recently to deserve this run of "bad" luck and now I'm beginning to think that the world/web/spirits/deities are trying to tell me something either that or their trying to let me down gently. I'm leaning towards the theory that all this "bad" luck is trying to soften the blow that I my Grandma won't be around much longer.

Gods.

I hope that this feeling of uselessness dissapears soon.

xx

Quote of the day: "Would you know my name If I saw you in heaven Will it be the same If I saw you in heaven I must be strong, and carry on Cause I know I don't belong Here in heaven" - Tears in Heaven - Eric Clapton

Song of the day: This Picture - Placebo

What's wrong with this picture?

So. I'm blogging again. It's worrying that I've found I'm only seeming to blog when I'm not feeling my best. Oh well, I'll try and write a purely positive blog some time soon. For now though you're going to have to settle for a bit of positive a bit of negative and a whole dose of weird.

So yeah, I'm feeling really rather weird. I don't know why. Maybe it's the small tinge of jealousy I'm feeling, maybe it's the fact that my favourite night out in Lancaster is in jeopardy due to the economic crisis, maybe it's the fact that for some reason I'm listening to nostalgic music, the kind of stuff that holds memories and the stuff that for no apparent reason makes me well up inside...

Meh. Whatever the reason is it doesn't change the feeling. It's not even like my evening was a bad one y'a know I had an awesome time watching Dr. Who and drinking and I really enjoyed dancing to stompy stompy industrial/ebm beats and drinking more and I think my wind-down of song-writing, Russell Howard and Heroes wasn't bad either.

So this blog-post has lost all steam, I'm going to sleep now and hopefully in the morning I'll have the energy to sort out my life.


Quote of the day: "Sometimes it's faded; Disintegrated; The fear of growing old; Sometimes it's faded; Assassinated; The fear of growing old." - Placebo, This Picture

Song of the day: This one's difficult I'm going to have to put Placebo - Sleeping with Ghosts


xx

Let's spend tonight on top of the world; we could do anything, we could be anything

So it would seem that once again I am enchanted by life and everything that comes with it. I have great friends, most of my family still intact, great music (both being listened to and being made by myself), and the greatest romance in the history of the world.

This romance transcends time and space, it has no need for the trivialities that come with having a lavish life - if indeed lavish life has trivialities (which I Strongly suspect it does). It is a simple romance, fuelled only by the fading light of the day on a summers eve, that moment when the sky is ablaze, filled with fiery colours that send kaleidoscopic bursts of light pulsing through my very veins.

This love encompasses the desire, nay, need to love and be loved, filling my heart with a joyous song that cannot be comprehended by the human mind, only observed from afar, and interacted with at the most basic of levels. We cannot control it, it controls us; we cannot do anything but understand that it will do what it must and that we must follow the path that it leads us on.

Occassionally it might seem that it gets things wrong, but from experience I have found that all you have to do is trust, believe, and let go.

The act of letting go shows that you have surrendered yourself to being led by a force more incomparable than whatever deities might be out there.

It is not someone or something that I love, it is love itself that I have fallen for. It is not that I feel the need to have someone in my life that I long for, it is the knowledge that it would fill my soul with the infinite fluttering of a thousand butterflies and that it would set my world afire, turn it upside down, spin it round 'till it made me sick, but that despite all of this I know that it would make the journey that we call life far more intereseting and wonderous.

Once again this post is pointless but at least this time it's not incredibly "emo" and depressing; at least it's joyous.

I don't know why I'm feeling the way I am. Maybe it's because I just watched Stardust which happens to be one of the films I went to see on a date with my first girlfriend Heather. Maybe it's the fact that it's a love story filled with the romance that I wish I could see in everyday life. Or maybe it's just me being the romantic that I know I am; wishing for that feeling I know puts that little cheeky grin on my face. Maybe it's because I have so much to give and I know I could make somebody happy.

I don't know. I don't care though, because I know that everything is as it is for a reason and that to question it would be to question the very thing that keeps me getting out of bed in the morning.

I shall bid you all adieu for now and get some rest. More insights to follow soon.

xx

Hell yeah!

I was only to blow the bloody doors off.

I think I did a bit more than that.

This is good. (In my honest opinion)

xx

The shards of glass the punctured my heart still remain/*insert emo title here*

So I'm sat in my own house freezing my arse off. This may be why I've been feeling rather weird all week. It's certainly not been conducive to doing anything really that productive. It's all because we went over our gas bill in January by £300 and February by £100.

In theory I can see why someone has turned the boiler off, but in reality I've taken to sleeping in clothes just to try and stay warm.

I'm in a rather "meh" mood. And that is a technical term, honest!

So yeah, this is another of those whiny, slightly-emo posts that doesn't really do more than provide me with an outlet and is probably not worth your time reading.

If you're reading this then well done on plucking up the courage to read further, good luck.

So life isn't exactly right where I want it right now. It's taking me closer to my overall goal but it's not put me in a very good place. I'm stuck between whether I'm pissed of at what I wished for or whether I couldn't be happier; it seems I am both.

This leads me to be pissed of an irritable and just feeling down right shit to be honest. If I was pissed off at what I'd wished for then I could blame myself and be done with it. But because I'm also really happy that it might lead me in the direction I want, it's fucking up my already defunct emotional system. Maybe if I were "normal" then it would be ok, I don't know. But fuck being "normal" 'cause then I'd probably not be as driven to get to where I want to be.

So let's do some maths;

Emotion 1 = (cold house)

Emotion 2 = (wrong wish?)

Emotion 1 + Emotion 2 = Emotion 3

Emotion 3 = (stupidfuckingpullmyhairoutscreamandcry)

Now I'm going to revise what I said before and say that it's an incredibly emo post as opposed to a slightly emo post.

So I'm feeling incredibly crappy, and all I want is a really hot, pounding shower (not like the weedy one we have here), a good, long, chat, a cry, some chocolate and a good film.

Not too sure that's gonna happen though. People will be busy doing other stuff; which whilst annoying is fair enough.

I might just settle for going to bed ridiculously early in an attempt to get a decent nights sleep.

On the plus-side I think last night went ok. I dj'd to an audience properly for the first time at a house party and whilst I didn't smash-it (technical term), I still think that it went down ok. I've just got to expand my music collection to vast and epic proportions so that at least every other song I play is a belter (technical term).

This plus-point made me happy until I woke up this morning and realised how cold I was, that I had to volunteer in the afternoon and how inexperienced and crappy my Ostara ritual for Pagan Soc. is going to look. Yay. -_-

Anyways. Time to sign off and try and find something productive/interesting to do.




xx

Rose-tinted-glasses and the colours exploded into a rainbow of happiness

And so with rose tinted glasses I gaze upon the world, my thoughts a melange of unfaltering thundering drums that are pounding out my heartbeat as I slowly realise not all is well, and the unforgettable nostalgia tinged with more than a little optimism so rarely found in nostalgia; memories sparked through the smelling of a sweet scent.

It is with joy that I view the world as such, the foolishness of my childhood replaced with dreams that at least know might fail tumbling down in a spiral of something more beautiful than fire yet colder than the very pinpricks of rain when the heavens start to open.

So today was spent in a very blissful state. It was a joy that for a period of time I didn't feel like finding the best place to hide and just disappearing.

It started when I reconnected with a friend in a way that made me certain that we are destined to be this close forever. Not that we'd ever really drifted apart, it's just... something happened and as a result as much as we both denied it there was probably a little something still lingering. Suffice to say that this lingering has been quashed once and for all; meaning that an awesome friendship was strengthened (if that's even possible) and my mood was set on the right track for the day.

This then lead to a few hours of doing bugger all and not feel particularly great (except I wasn't feeling particularly bad either), the sun was shining and I was restless. This grew and grew until I finally realised that people were really busy with work (like I probably should be) and that I wasn't going to get any company (which was fair enough) until I took off. I took my car, some classic literature, poetry writing materials, food and great music and drove. I drove to Grassmere. It's a great place that holds many memories for me. We've been to the Butharlyp Howe You Hostel many times of the years and it was great to be back again in the sunshine.

I walked round the lake, stopping off half-way round for foods, picture taking and poetry writing. Unfortunately I didn't take anything to sit on and as a result got a slightly wet and muddy bottom but that didn't stop me, only shortened the amount of time I was sat down. Eventually I arrived back in the village and stopped off for a Mint Choc Chip ice-cream. It was delicious, proper farm-made, Lakeland ice-cream is always the nicest. It was lubbly jubbly.

Then I drove home blasting The River (Springsteen) and Wild Young Hearts (Noisettes) with my window down, feeling the cool breeze against my face, the warm sun creating a kaleidoscopic array of colours as it refracted off my rose-tinted glasses.

Now it is time for productivity, but not until I've watched Hannibal. It doesn't quite fit the mood and weather conditions (Hannibal + sun = no) but I watched Red Dragon and Silence of the Lambs the other night and so need to complete the quadrilogy by watching the next two. Then tomorrow it's time to sort out this shitty little mess I'm in and start being slightly more grown-up.

This worries me in that I hate being grown-up and stuff but there comes a time in everybody's life and I guess this is mine. I can, after all, be a little more childish next year when I'm back at uni. *insert overused emoticon here*

So for now I am happy, quietened by the inevitable fall of darkness and ready to face whatever the world throws at me; one problem at a time.

xx

Song of the day: The Noisettes - Never Forget You

Quote of the day: "I'll never forget you; they said we'd never make it; my sweet joy; always remember me"

So, here I am again, blogging my way through the anger that's been welling up inside me all evening. Gods it's been a while and I forgot how cathartic it was to pour my heart out onto some meaningless blog filled with ramblings that no-one really ever reads. No matter how poetic I make it sound it is still a lonely space of the internet reserved for those fortunate enough to find it.

*Beware abrupt topic change*

Don't you just hate siblings?

I mean siblings in general I've found to be nothing more than an extra person in a game of cricket in the garden, or an annoyance comparable to a little itch that's stuck right underneath your shoulder-blade, in a place that you can reach but not scratch.

The sibling I hate? My own.

I have a sister. She is annoying as hell. She's got to that age where she thinks she can wrap the whole goddamn world around her little finger. I don't fall for it. But having said that, there's not much I can do about it to be honest.

I take her places when my parents are too busy and I'm not. Something that I think any brother who's nice and kind like me would do.

It's a shame she's been abusing it. Not much mind you, but it's the little things. The fact that whilst I'm taking her friend home she has to come with us and then just pop into her house to to put some music on a memory-stick "quickly".

I wouldn't have minded had she discussed with me. I wouldn't have minded it quick meant 5 minutes. It did only mean ten minutes. But that's after I've already been treated like a free taxi by my cousin for whom I was "doing a favour".

Well you owe me Ben.

And this was all after 8:00p.m. too. Fucking annoying.

And this can only happen because I'm home.

Ok so yeah I'm home because I'm going skiing with the family tomorrow and I wouldn't say no to a free holiday but it's fucking annoying.

Am I allowed to be annoyed?

I mean I haven't gone into the full details but to be honest I'm made to feel sometimes like I have more than everybody else and that having an annoying sister isn't that big of a problem.

No-one in particular makes me feel this way, it's just a general kind of thing that I seem to feel when I bitch about things that are considered "mere annoyances".

Anyway time for some "alone time" seeing as I'm gonna be with family all week.

And then sleeps.

xx

And so comes the time for those words that have been brewing for a while;

FUCK OFF WITH THAT ARROGANTLY HUGE HEAD OF YOURS!

PEOPLE WOULD LIKE YOU IF YOU WERE'NT A BASTARD!

*Ahem*

Fucking hell.

Ok, so I'm gonna relay the situation to you.

1. My room is directly above somebody else's.

2. The floor is paper thin.

3. The guy below me is an arrogant twat.

Apparently I make too much noise. There has been the odd occasion where I've been told I've been making noise late at night. With that I can understand being pissed off.

Today though was a fucking piss-take. It wasn't too early (something around 10/11) on a Saturday morning. It's not like it's too early.

But yeah I started djing. And when I say djing I mean I did have my amp on but I didn't turn it up too loud.

Then follows this really shitty status along the lines of;

"Once again is woken up by shitty music disrupting the peace and quiet. It's not like I wanted a lie-in or to work when I got up"


This was posted by the afore mentioned arrogant and big-headed housemate.

It's so fucking stupid it's pissed me off.

And it's not just me either. He's been given a nickname that basically just adds "creepy" in front of his name. And to be honest although I don't see why he's creepy, I do see why people don't really like him.

Last year we were good friends. He was my best friend by default. We'd met on a summer course and gone to the same uni the course was at. I didn't like my housemates. It was a simple as that.

Then the drinking started. He's been attached with the label of "alcoholic" for a good reason. I mean we all go out and get so blind drunk we cannot stand and throw up all over the place occasionally (ok so I've never done it but I'm sure it'll happen one day) but to do it four times!?!? I mean it's not like he even takes responsibility for it.

The first time it happened he went to hospital and next day he arrived back and we asked him how he was and he remarked (rather smugly) that he didn't even have a hangover. Not "I'm sorry for causing you so much upset."

This incident sparked off this blog post. It was awful.

But anyway. I'm running out of battery on my laptop.

So yeah, turns out he's big-headed and everything seems to be about him and how he's right or how he's done something worse than you have or whateverthefuckitis.


So yeah. He's a dickhead.

He needs to fuck off and learn to be nice and kind.

That is all.

xx