The evening after the previous morning of the night before

To give this some context this was written after a drunken memory void night out, in a (terrible clichéd) coffee shop the following morning. Forgive any notion of grandiosity it is stained in blood sweat and alcohol.

I'm I'm not sure what to write, except I have a need to put it into words document and sure its exacted. I'm not sure i've anything to write that hasn't already been written before. Though comforting to think that i'm repeating the same words of some great philosopher or some deluded Psychopath. I then feel disgraced. I want to rub faeces around the transcript and fuck it to a pulp. It's wrong. I want Original. I don't want to paint by numbers. It's a falsity. Like a mind to paper, pen existence. It misses immediacy, orginality, the achievement of the masters.

I think, then think, then condense, then forget, then fuck around, eat, then write, blaspheme.

Think, then think, walking, pondering, writing, imprinted on a blood vessel hidden to be thought of later, forget, then thought of, and forgot again and until in surprise I find out my brain has come up with some miraculous theory. A way through to something more, better. Enlightenment reigns, if only temporarily.

The thing is i'm just complaining on a piece of tree with ink. What use is it? What is the point for such artifice of rebellion, when all is just in print, a static framework. Such a deluded voice, it seems to be radical but wheres the raw scrawls the picketlines, the Fucking.

And then I think about the drinking, the thought, the action that brought me here, an attempt to try to explain. The Want the Need to Fuck and be Fucked. The Art of Forgetting and Wondering into the imaginary landscape of dicks arseholes vaginas the excessive pleasure which is never enough and just a momentary blip into forgetting again and partly remembering what's next...

p.s. 05/12/10 I retain no explanation of this ranting. The thought i'd like to leave you with is an apology to a past of stupidity, a pathetic-ness; a self which is slowly fading.

The unmistakeable Moi

I don't know where I am. Where I exists? There is a body a skeleton, muscle structure, a anatomic structure without the muscles you see in science labs, in school text books.

Though this is not me this is the structure in which I dwell. The object I sometimes control.

It is not normal, it is not humane it is a body.

I never asked for it. I have never been in dialogue with the architect, the planning officer. There was no price for the fabrics. Though I know the commissioners, nature or something beyond it brought me here. It just occured, suddenly happened

Part of me, I'm not sure which part fought for my life.

I'm not sure what is the sperm and what parts the egg as they seem to have merged together. These two anonymous entities made me and gave me this.

P.s. A tune with similar thoughts = HURTS - Mother Nature

P.s.s. Now (01/11/10) Reading The Blank Slate by Steve Pinker about how we view the human mind and body - still on introduction

Little Tombstones

I have just got a new job, like most of my jobs so far its in catering.

And from previous experience and this present one there is always this weird endeavour to be better/being more personal to customers satisfy there every need but also to clean up after customers as soon as humanly possible.

Everyday you clean the same place the same tables, cutlery, make the same food in the same pots and pans. The 'rubbish' is cleaned off the tables and the last trace of that customer is vanished. Surely if they truly valued customers contributions, cafes and restaurants would make sure they were remembered not just disposed of. They are otherwise just a number a unrespected provider of fortune.

I was also reading Choke, by Chuck Palahniuk, at the time, one of the characters Denny collects stones 'it's like rocks are a kit. It's land, but with some assembly required...landownership '

He stores the stones in the house but as he brings several home everyday the collection becomes overwhelming so he starts to build something with the stones he's collected with no plans of the final structure the process continues. It is an ongoing building think 'Tantric Architecture' 'It's a process its not about getting something done...Every rock is a tombstone, a little monument to each day where the work most people do just evaporates or expires or becomes instantly outdated the moments it's done...the only thing we don't know is how this will turn out. And what's more we don't want to know'

One of my friends who has just been to America recently put up some photos and this reminded me again of this idea of a building in process. This one being covered by chewing gum and anything that can be stuck to it.

My Cafe proposal is an empty space with a bar selling food and drink. The walls are covered with tubes, wires (where waste food and liquids flow around to be recycled within the grounds of the site ) with one wall made up of a series of empty boxes which is where cutlery is disposed sometimes recycled other times made permanent fixtures. It is essentially a eco cafe with an ever changing landscape a building that didn't stop being outside and inside past present and future constantly emerging, to no specific goal just a being that respects its participants and its surroundings.

Any suggestions/other examples would be much appreciated

x

MAY NEED EDITING

Fearne and...

Yesterday I was watching Fearne and... , as I do every week (how amazing I am) and suddenly...

like out of nowhere...

I realized...

Fearne Cotton is the worst interviewer I've ever had the displeasure to observe.

It's as though she treats this as a school project, quoting off Wikipedia what shes found out about this person and saying it over and over again cus' she has no more material/ done any research. Making the vaguest assumptions about famous people, such as they are a Rockstar so therefore are like that all the time and have no ability whatsoever to do domestic chores, cus' their so Rockkk!!!!!!! and couldn't possibly do anything else except mosh, sing, play instruments and have their hands permanently paralysed into Devil Horns.

Though this week Beth Ditto did in this weeks episode 'stage invade' a 30 seconds to Mars gig by sweeping the floor.

Though to be honest Fearne's 'stage invade' is nothing of the sort she brushes at Jared Leto'[s feet when about thirty other people are also on stage

But this won't deter Fearne from declaring it CRAZY ROCKSTAR ANTICS, spontaneous etc.

And to be fair this is utterly bizarre to Miss Cotton/ only Miss Cotton.

This is because she is a self confessed GEEK, this is the half the problem. From an early age Fearne has presented first as the host of Disney Club then Diggit, Top of the Pops, The Xtra Factor and many other childrens and music shows followed. It seems she has led a very sheltered ,under developed life as though her career has grown around her and suffocated her brain. Now this may seem slightly harsh but who doesn't know about calling up Paparazzi i.e. in the Perez Hilton episode; and how can you possibly think celebrities are some sort of demi-gods when you are one yourself and have interviewed so many. Surely you can see that they are all just people with publicists. Its utter delusion.

She is also a wimp almost refusing to sing with Beth at a Karaoke bar this is not a good quality to have when your suppose to be 'partying' with them, sure you need a straight interviewer but why can't you just have a laugh without giving an embarrassed smirk to camera.

Her main objective in each episode it seems is to find the real person that hides behind the headlines, now this sort of made sense in the Perez Hilton episode but Beth Ditto she just keeps saying about how she's seen the REAL BETH DITTO. Now I'm not going to go too highbrow on this but there is only so many times you can fit this sentence into one programme. How does she expect this when you spend so little time with person and when you do spend time with that person you are followed by cameras the whole way.

Anyway in conclusion Fearne and... is bollocks.... and I will continue watchin the butchering of the interview genre.

You gotta love the car crash.

x

- Helpful website

Crossing the line

Your too young for commitment, just have fun while you can

I don't do one night stands.

We can date after if you want.

Just a few quotes in the confusion of gay relations which have been said to me recently. (paraphrased)

I have no idea what i want.

Whenever i meet someone for the first time boy/girl i often have this enormous lust to be with them, a weird intensity, its like a potion has just exploded lingering around this person and i can't get enough of it. It doesn't mean i want to be with them have a relationship, get married have kids its just a feeling of closeness i don't know what direction it will take or which way to favour.

As I'm sort of against marriage believing it to be a way for demonising and restricting sexuality, castrating desires for financial reasons. This is not to say that marriage doesn't work for some people but i'd rather not have to tolerate someone just because i'm trapped in this entanglement or trapped in a relationship trying to make it work when we are completely ill suited.

Though this is not to say i wouldn't want a relationship. From past experience i quite enjoy being with someone, the comfort, the sharing, the routine, the sex etc. Learning about someone is in fact maybe one of my favourite past times.

I'm just a ball of confusion, that is going round a closed maze.

x

(atm I feel weirdly Asexual/Non-sexual 24/09/2010)

Gender

Inspired by this...I have wrote this piece.

I've never thought myself as a boy.

Or at least fully.

This is not to say that I have not clutched to my gender at times i.e. stopping myself doing Dance on saturday's activity club and instead doing drama cus' dance was for girls.

But i've always hated the macho absolute male, the bulging muscles action hero, the fighter, the superior. It just wasn't me i hadn't earnt a superior stature and didn't want it either, it felt uneasy and ridiculous.

And this is not because I'm gay, that would be ludicrous, a complete misreading of what i'm saying and possibly quite close minded.

It is because I hate the boundaries it enforces. The pointless restrictions that oppress and confuse the identity and the confine possibility.

Yes we look different underneath but when does that matter except in the bedroom or at the doctors. And even you still believe the gender divide you must agree we live our lives in clothes in artifices of the body, ideas, ideologies of being. In effect we live on the exterior of the body rather then inhabit the practise of what the body is. (This may be further explained in another Rant/ better explained in Butler's Gender Trouble) These are ideas are changeable. If they are restrictive why not attempt to change them or step out of them all together.

and possibly one day i'll go for those lessons I missed out on.

(Recent Biological study discussing how similar the two genders are : http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/health/4251968.stm)

X

p.s. Chris Goode's Blog is AWESOME

p.p.s. TED is too

Love Love Love Love I want your... Babies

I Love Chavs on the back of the bus asking for a shag round someones houseparty

I Love how my Dad gets stupidly frustrated about shitty singers on Xfactor

I Love Kranky Klaus probably the best and most evil Santa tradition (think somewhere between Santa, Jackass and the Gruffalo)

I Love Flirting

I Love Hurts (Happiness) and Sia's (We are Born) new album

I Love how Pea Green Boats will be continuing :)

I Love eating Ben & Jerry's knowing full well that i can't eat sugar


I Sorta Love life at the moment

just waiting for the job to sink my student lifestyle