Never join the army.

It's difficult to concentrate when you have a chorus of white noise surrounding you but i'm going to have to try in a vain attempt to keep my sanity. After yet another unnecessarily exhausting day i am attempting to float away on the forth and gather myself some real sleep. As the natural course of my monotonous life dictates, it is 1.39am on a wednesday night so as per usual i will be thinking about either sex or death. I am currently watching 'Full Metal Jacket' which makes it virtually impossible for me to think about sex right now (at least in any way i'd actually want to) so instead i am whimsically pondering death.
  The other day i was looking through one of my old year-eight note books. You know the kind; My Chemical Romance lyrics shrouding the thing, the odd poorly drawn mess and the name of whichever boy had slightly interested me on that particular day written next to a comically large '4EVER'. The reason i bring this to your attention loyal subjects is because i'd forgotten just how eerily obsessed i used to be with death. When we were younger we didn't really understand the concept of death, which is logical as we didn't really understand the concept of life either. It's hard to accept the hypothesis that 'life is precious' when you are young - mostly due to the fact that anyone who tells you that it is, doesn't appear to be having an exceptionally good time anymore and are probably closer to death then you could ever dream of being. That is the thing isn't it my children, we are so absorbed in living that we can not fathom death. Have you ever just sat down with a cuppa and thought about death? I can see a few hands up; i strongly advise you to seek help. If you haven't; i strongly advise you not to. As a general activity contemplating your eventual and possibly untimely demise isn't much of a mood elevator.
  I personally have many theories on what happens in the after life, most of them are very badly formed and based on the jumped-up ramblings of an assortment of junkies and rock stars. But they all basically go like this:
1. You die.
2. Shit happens.
If you'd like a more detailed account then i suppose you can say i'm following a kind of fucked up hybrid version of the norse and the hindu religion. I believe that there are separate levels (or realms) in the spiritual world beyond our physical world. In Norse religion they believe there are three levels; one for warriors, one for average do-gooders, and one for sinners. My views concorde with these but i believe we each establish our own level based on the lives we lead. This is where the Hindu religion comes into in that i believe we collect a certain type of energy through-out our lives (the matter auras are made of). When we die we release this energy and it will take us to where we will be most content through reincarnation. I also have a second and much more looming theory that absolutely fuck all happens when you die and you're just dead. But we don't talk about that.
  There's also the lovely little question of just exactly how you will exit through the emblematic and not entirely relevant giftshop. I believe that ectoplasmic projections sometimes seep into our dreams to warn us of things to come and the result of this is reacquiring dreams. I have a very frequent dream in which my dad is driving me off a cliff - this is not a good sign. In all honesty i will be perfectly satisfied with death as long as i don't die in some horrifically embarrassing, painfully avoidable or comically stupid situation. If there is an afterlife i don't want to have that 'morning-after' sense of regret for the rest of eternity. I often find myself making discussions based on how much i will be kicking myself later. Generally as a rule i will do something entirely to avoid regretting not on my death bed. Regret is such a touchy subject which i will be fondling profusely next time.
 But for right now fellow sinners i must craw over to Megan and go to bed as it is 2am and all i can think about is how i don't want to die wishing i'd had anal sex. Full Metal Jacket just finished and now i am free to let my obscene mind wonder. Well done me.

'We are put on this Earth to fuck around, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise.' - Kurt Vonnegut.

Never avoid the valley

Why hello internet. Hasn't it been a while? Just in case you weren't sure i can assure you that it has, i would like to tell you that i am back. 100% me, i am no longer an exhausted shell of a woman I've been since bestival. I have healed, cleaned my life up. I no longer have the urge to massacre whole villages, and i am back. nanananananananana. I hope you've all been doing better than i have. i hope you're all on top of your college work, i hope you've all got a life plan going and you're not wasting your time chasing skirt. Not that i am... 

  Today i would like to talk about skin. Not the organ, or the things we wrap tobacco in, i mean the metaphorical thing we live in. Like our gender, our race, our appearance. I read an article today about a man who attempted to reassign his own sex by hacking away his penis with a Stanley knife and it got me thinking about acceptance. This man was willing to risk his life so he didn't have to keep living it as himself. Is this something we all struggle with? Is it a chemical imbalance? Or is it just an emotional thing? People say you can be born in the wrong skin, but why is this? The NHS now offer breast augmentations for people who are 'desperately' unhappy with their size, who's to say this wont lead to all kinds of unnecessary surgeries done on the basis of vain fancy? If i walked into a hospital now and said that i was supposed to be born a shoe, would they send me to a psychiatric facility, or would they put me under the knife and start attaching laces to me? Don't get me wrong, i'm not against reassignment or plastic surgery, i just think we should have a better system in order to differentiate between people with a real pathological need to be different and those who simply need a little help with self-acceptance. Obviously I, like the majority of the people, would be totally down with many procedures, a new nose, new boobs, wings? But i think that if these things were available to everyone we'd lose all sense of individuality and end up looking like this http://beyondbeautifulbabe.files.wordpress.com/2010/08/ugly-barbie2.jpg

and who'd wanna shag that aye? 

   I'd also like to bring up that trust thing i keep harping on about. It's a dodgy little subject that one. We can throw it around however we wish, some don't trust anyone, some trust too easily and some like me pick and choose using a very complicated screening process and those people like me, are wrong. You can not trust anyone in this day and age. Some wise man once said 'drunken minds speak sober hearts'. That man was both entirely deluded and incomprehensibly accurate. Sometimes when we've been poisoning ourselves with alcohol we say things we don't mean, we say things that we shouldn't, and whenever this happens we always, always, regret it. I hate that i talk when I've been drinking but it's impossible not to, alcohol dissolves our social filter and everything merges in to one horrible blob of awkward secrets,  embarrassing facts and painful memories. But this does not give someone the right to pass on the information, if anything it should do the opposite. If someone confides in you while they've been drinking please do not take this to mean what they are saying means nothing, it really means the opposite- it means everything. It is something they can only say while not entirely knowing they're saying it: so guard this information with your life. Or you may find you're risking someone else's.

  The next thing i'd like to bring up is something a lot lighter than usual: i'd like to talk about the avengers. I am super totally excited about the new film that is supposed to grace out silver screens some time around next summer, but there was something i noticed today that horrified me. As a ravenous graphic novel fan (anime and manga included) i like my films to be spot on with accuracy, and although they rarely are it's nice when the Hollywood big shots make an effort. So i was absolutely disgusted to find out that they'd cast the guy who played the human torch in the fantastic four, as captain america. what? WHAT? how is that supposed to work, he can't be both? This isn't the parent trap? Get it together marvel. I know this isn't exactly top news but it just really bothered me. I know Chris Evans is beautiful and has a perfectly manly chin, but that doesn't mean he can defy the laws of physics. Is it really that difficult to hire two actors? This has totally destroyed the point of the film, all the heroes in the same time period inexplicably and fighting the same cause. Now i don't even know what they'll do, and no amount of Samuel L. Jackson can fix this. 

  I had that feeling again today. The vast emptiness, mixed in with the sensation of being totally complete. This always tends to happen with a realization of beauty. Today for example, i was sitting on the bridge next to my train station, the sun was about to set and the whole sky was a blood colored haze. I had a coffee and a cigarette and i realized how brilliant everything was when we let it be. Then i got thinking, and came to a very weird conclusion. We are taught throughout our lives that the ends of things are beautiful, the end of a day, the end of life, the end of a rainbow. We are also taught that the beginnings of things are, the beginning of a day, the beginning of a relationship, the beginning of time. This may not seem so unfathomable to you, but the thing that mystifies me is the fact that we never celebrate the middle. No one ever says 'oh i saw the most amazing midday yesterday' or 'there's a light inside the tunnel.' but friends, we should. The middle is worth singing about. The middle is the best bit. The middle of an oreo, the middle of nowhere, the place where Malcolm is. I don't see why we are so eager to skip past the middle, that's where we should be most comfortable. That's the point in which we are past the rocky start and we have everything to look forward to. Where we can take a step back and observe, this is the calm between storms, this is the moment between the rock and the hard place. This is what we live for. Those not busy being born aren't busy dying, they're living. And so are we. 

  And in that spirit i'd like to bid you ado, i can only stand so much of my own inner monologue. And it is the middle of the night - which in my opinion, is the best part. 

Never sweat the distance.

It's so easy to overlook things, to underestimate things. I don't really think we ever anticipate the magnitude of situations until it's too late. People can be so pathetically short sighted. Especially when it comes to the feelings of others. For examples, going years without realizing someone has romantic feelings for you, or telling white lies and waiting for the truth to come out, or agreeing to move to Chichester for your mum without even considering the long term effects. Thanks mum, for completely and utterly fucking me over. Have you ever been so tired you fall asleep in class? Have you ever been so tired you don't know where your dreams end and reality begins? Have you ever been so tired you're afraid to sleep in case you never wake up? I am exhausted. All. The. Time. No matter what time i go to bed, i always wake up feeling as if i've been awake for years. I can't remember what it's like to get into bed and fall asleep. All i know now is the sliding hand of the clock, or the s l o w ebbing sands in the timer waiting for the approaching unconsciousness. But i'll be damned if i even get 2 hours of sleep these days. And my teachers wonder why i fall asleep, why i'm late, why my deadlines aren't met. And my mum wonders why i'm not eating, why i'm never home, why i am so damn mad. Take a look mum, this is what we're living for now. I hope you can see it in my eyes, the blame, i am going to fuck my life up. And there's nothing i can do to stop it, because i am too tired to try. I feel unconnected as if i'm not real, my life in brighton is one half of a life, and my life here is the other half but there is no way to make them meet so i'm just stuck in a kind of limbo between them. I don't care if i go upwards or down, heaven or hell. I just want to move on. I just want to get some sleep.