Lets get this out of the way, I'm a diagnosed depressive. I have a sunlamp and a prescription which I never picked up due to a long history of addiction in my family. That's about as far as I'm going to go.
Another thing to get out of the way. People who outwardly proclaim to have depression, don't. I'm talking about that one dickhead who starts a conversation with "I'm so depressed".
Whenever someone proclaims this out loud, slap them around the face, hard and tell them to shut the fuck up because lies make baby Jesus cry. Anyone who is genuinely depressed hates being around people. They want to hide away from the world and be absorbed into the black hole building inside their sanity. They don't want to discuss it, they're ashamed of it, scared to admit it, admit that they have a genuine mental disorder and need help.
Whenever someone claims to have depression within a social context, then I'd be willing to bet they don't, and they just want some attention for being 'dark' and 'broody' (or 'a cunt' and 'faggoty' respectively). I didn't tell my parents for two years, and only because they grew convinced I was going to kill myself. I only told my work after 5 months because it was getting too much and the last shift I had a nervous breakdown.
Also, I didn't follow it with a fucking story about why "I'm so depressed", and you know why? Because depression isn't fucking tangible, it's impossible to explain, it's a void that has no reason of being. You think for hours on end about what could be wrong, to realise you have no problems that are unique to you. You realise that you have no reason to feel this bad, you feel selfish, you hate yourself for being so self absorbed when there is so much tragedy going on in the world.
That's depression, not the fact money is tight, or the boy you like isn't interested in you. Even severe loss isn't depression, it's grief. If your parents died, you wouldn't kill yourself. People watch their children die, they don't kill themselves, they grieve and internalise their pain.
They don't tell everybody loud and proud like they're so different.
So the next time someone claims to be depressed like that? Tell them they make me sick to my stomach, and I sincerely hope that they aren't bluffing.
Wednesday 30 November 2011
The phrase 'taste in music' is stupid, and this is why.
Firstly, you don't taste music, you hear it. You taste food, you have a 'taste in food', not a 'hear in food'. What stupid bastard came up with that?
Secondly, the idea of a 'taste in music' really perturbs me. When you're in school, music is just like fashion, you are judged on your tastes (for fuck sake). If you're a grunge, then you listen to punk, a plastic trendy, pop music, you don't have a choice, you don't have a taste in music, you have a fashion accessory for your ears that you can tell people about.
Now I can get this, school is a hard time and it becomes your life the minute you step into preschool. You can't forever be at odds with the people you spend the majority of your waking hours around. Like prison, find a niché that you find fit you closest and you stick with them fervently to avoid being raped in the showers by that guy behind the music room who never did call me back... I'm sorry, what?
Once you leave though, you have no excuse, you are free from these shackles to discover whatever audible delights you fancy, but you still find people, many, many people, who restrict themselves to genre.
I frequently hear people say "I like everything except for country". I'm not entirely sure how much country you have listened to, but I expect it is none, because you clearly don't appreciate the historical influence that country has had on the world.
You like rock? A bit of My Chemical Romance? Maybe a little bit of The Beatles? Well all of that started with country music you fucking neanderthals.
You have no reason to condemn music by genre, it's stereotyping, like saying all black people are criminals, or that Asians are terrible drivers (also, why is Asian a forced capital, but black isn't? BLOGGER IS RACIST!). Music is music, give it a damn listen.
Even folk music is very tightly linked to country, I'm talking Fleet Foxes, Simon and Garfunkel, even Mumford and Sons, all have their roots in country music.
You don't have to like all of it, but you can still listen to some and like some. I dislike the majority of gangster rap but I still find myself nodding to Notorious B.I.G.
I'm not going to say I'm better than you, I'm just saying you're far fucking worse than I am.
Secondly, the idea of a 'taste in music' really perturbs me. When you're in school, music is just like fashion, you are judged on your tastes (for fuck sake). If you're a grunge, then you listen to punk, a plastic trendy, pop music, you don't have a choice, you don't have a taste in music, you have a fashion accessory for your ears that you can tell people about.
Now I can get this, school is a hard time and it becomes your life the minute you step into preschool. You can't forever be at odds with the people you spend the majority of your waking hours around. Like prison, find a niché that you find fit you closest and you stick with them fervently to avoid being raped in the showers by that guy behind the music room who never did call me back... I'm sorry, what?
Once you leave though, you have no excuse, you are free from these shackles to discover whatever audible delights you fancy, but you still find people, many, many people, who restrict themselves to genre.
I frequently hear people say "I like everything except for country". I'm not entirely sure how much country you have listened to, but I expect it is none, because you clearly don't appreciate the historical influence that country has had on the world.
You like rock? A bit of My Chemical Romance? Maybe a little bit of The Beatles? Well all of that started with country music you fucking neanderthals.
You have no reason to condemn music by genre, it's stereotyping, like saying all black people are criminals, or that Asians are terrible drivers (also, why is Asian a forced capital, but black isn't? BLOGGER IS RACIST!). Music is music, give it a damn listen.
Even folk music is very tightly linked to country, I'm talking Fleet Foxes, Simon and Garfunkel, even Mumford and Sons, all have their roots in country music.
You don't have to like all of it, but you can still listen to some and like some. I dislike the majority of gangster rap but I still find myself nodding to Notorious B.I.G.
I'm not going to say I'm better than you, I'm just saying you're far fucking worse than I am.
My constant battle with opinion.
When your spend your entire life seeing the world through one set of eyes, it becomes very hard to believe that other people's perceptions are valid.
Put it this way, if someone held up and apple and told you it was... fuck, that's a bad example, an apple can be nearly any colour. Alright, say if someone told you a tree was made of carrots, you'd instantly disregard it because you've lived your world thinking it was made of... well, wood. Are trees made of wood if they are wood? That's one for Philociraptor.
So when I grow up thinking rap music is all terrible and talentless, it gets very hard to listen to a track without instantly recognising it as rap, and then associating it with being terrible.
The thing is, I can be, and often am, in the wrong.
I thought dubstep was terrible, and that was mainly because of how huge it became with 'students' (and by that I mean people who go to college to be a student, not to study), so I instantly associated it with attention grabbing fuck-nuts.
This morning a link was posted on my friend's Facebook wall, and I clicked on it. I instantly recognised the logo to be that of a dubstep Youtube channel, so I clicked off.
A little while later, it began playing for some reason. I didn't realise that it was the video, I assumed it was my Spotify account, playing my immaculate and unbeatable playlists. The tune was an absolute banger, and then I realised it;
Dear God, I like dubstep.
This now meant that I disagreed with a notion I had held for years. It was scary accepting that to myself, that I was wrong.
It wasn't embarrassment towards anyone else, it wasn't that people would judge me for my music taste (because that is, frankly, a pursuit followed exclusively by pathetic cunts), it was the notion that, holy shit, I could have been wrong and judgmental about a whole myriad of things.
Now this is a harrowing realisation for the inherently arrogant, that you aren't perfect, that you aren't the one true mind in the world. Knowing that you are flawed is both comforting and terrible. Suddenly things can go wrong and I won't be confused how, but now I'm not in total control, I could flip at any time I wouldn't know.
Anyway, I'm going to have to cut this short because I have work, but these thoughts, no doubt, shall continue.
Put it this way, if someone held up and apple and told you it was... fuck, that's a bad example, an apple can be nearly any colour. Alright, say if someone told you a tree was made of carrots, you'd instantly disregard it because you've lived your world thinking it was made of... well, wood. Are trees made of wood if they are wood? That's one for Philociraptor.
So when I grow up thinking rap music is all terrible and talentless, it gets very hard to listen to a track without instantly recognising it as rap, and then associating it with being terrible.
The thing is, I can be, and often am, in the wrong.
I thought dubstep was terrible, and that was mainly because of how huge it became with 'students' (and by that I mean people who go to college to be a student, not to study), so I instantly associated it with attention grabbing fuck-nuts.
This morning a link was posted on my friend's Facebook wall, and I clicked on it. I instantly recognised the logo to be that of a dubstep Youtube channel, so I clicked off.
A little while later, it began playing for some reason. I didn't realise that it was the video, I assumed it was my Spotify account, playing my immaculate and unbeatable playlists. The tune was an absolute banger, and then I realised it;
Dear God, I like dubstep.
This now meant that I disagreed with a notion I had held for years. It was scary accepting that to myself, that I was wrong.
It wasn't embarrassment towards anyone else, it wasn't that people would judge me for my music taste (because that is, frankly, a pursuit followed exclusively by pathetic cunts), it was the notion that, holy shit, I could have been wrong and judgmental about a whole myriad of things.
Now this is a harrowing realisation for the inherently arrogant, that you aren't perfect, that you aren't the one true mind in the world. Knowing that you are flawed is both comforting and terrible. Suddenly things can go wrong and I won't be confused how, but now I'm not in total control, I could flip at any time I wouldn't know.
Anyway, I'm going to have to cut this short because I have work, but these thoughts, no doubt, shall continue.
'Occupy' need to shut the fuck up.
If you've ever sat down and pondered on the injustice in the world, thinking "why does so much wrong occur?" then let me explain something to you.
Every human being on this planet has the capacity to be, and is guaranteed to be repeatedly, a giant fucking arsehole.
Co-ersively we can all be good, this is a two way street, but if you think for a second we can all get along and live in harmony, then you, my friend, are at the bottom of the food chain.
Human beings are animals, gifted with the ability of thought, although some more than others it would seem, but we seem transfixed on this whole idea of the '1%' being really rich and in power, while us 99% live in squalor. Life sure is hard in our world, isn't it? So who can blame the people setting up camp and protesting?
Well, me for a start, because it's stupid and achieves nothing. Do you really think people don't know corruption exists? If you are that condescending to think that the average Joe on the street doesn't know that ther are having money taken from their deserving hands by at least one other person, then you're just as bad as the bankers.
And look around, take in your country, your surroundings through fresh eyes. If I look around my room, I'm typing on my computer with a double bed and a view of my car parked outside. It's missing 4 hubcaps and has a few dents, but still, it runs and plays music through my smart phone.
I eat perhaps a little too much and spend too much time vegetating in front of the TV with my Xbox or Wii, or playing one of my two guitars.
Thing is, I don't even earn enough to be taxed, and I'm not claiming benefits. Shit can be tough sometimes, yeah, but life is pretty good when I look around.
If some wanky banker type needs to validate himself with billions of pounds, then fine, whatever.
My friend, currently unemployed, not only has his rent and council tax covered by the government, but he also is given £55 spending money a week.
Yeah, I imagine some people are getting screwed and fired, but cut the wine and the dvd's and re-adjust.
We're never going to cure corruption, we're all guilty of it, but if you can take the time out to camp in the middle of the street and still go home to a warm room and food, then fuck you, there are people that camp in the street and don't get to do that, because they don't have homes.
That time you're spending, telling us how you're getting screwed? That could be time spent helping the homeless, or at an old people's home, doing some good.
But that isn't cool, is it?
Fuck you all. From the bottom of my heart, you make me fucking sick, every last one of you.
Every human being on this planet has the capacity to be, and is guaranteed to be repeatedly, a giant fucking arsehole.
Co-ersively we can all be good, this is a two way street, but if you think for a second we can all get along and live in harmony, then you, my friend, are at the bottom of the food chain.
Human beings are animals, gifted with the ability of thought, although some more than others it would seem, but we seem transfixed on this whole idea of the '1%' being really rich and in power, while us 99% live in squalor. Life sure is hard in our world, isn't it? So who can blame the people setting up camp and protesting?
Well, me for a start, because it's stupid and achieves nothing. Do you really think people don't know corruption exists? If you are that condescending to think that the average Joe on the street doesn't know that ther are having money taken from their deserving hands by at least one other person, then you're just as bad as the bankers.
And look around, take in your country, your surroundings through fresh eyes. If I look around my room, I'm typing on my computer with a double bed and a view of my car parked outside. It's missing 4 hubcaps and has a few dents, but still, it runs and plays music through my smart phone.
I eat perhaps a little too much and spend too much time vegetating in front of the TV with my Xbox or Wii, or playing one of my two guitars.
Thing is, I don't even earn enough to be taxed, and I'm not claiming benefits. Shit can be tough sometimes, yeah, but life is pretty good when I look around.
If some wanky banker type needs to validate himself with billions of pounds, then fine, whatever.
My friend, currently unemployed, not only has his rent and council tax covered by the government, but he also is given £55 spending money a week.
Yeah, I imagine some people are getting screwed and fired, but cut the wine and the dvd's and re-adjust.
We're never going to cure corruption, we're all guilty of it, but if you can take the time out to camp in the middle of the street and still go home to a warm room and food, then fuck you, there are people that camp in the street and don't get to do that, because they don't have homes.
That time you're spending, telling us how you're getting screwed? That could be time spent helping the homeless, or at an old people's home, doing some good.
But that isn't cool, is it?
Fuck you all. From the bottom of my heart, you make me fucking sick, every last one of you.
Black Levi's 501's
Weird title, right? Well it was in my auto-fill section, and it got me thinking why I pay out the ass for a nice pair of jeans?
I'm not a man of fashion, it has to be said, my favorite clothes are my afghan scarf and green cargo pants. I look like a giant skater kid, but I'm comfy, although it should be said, I rock the holy shit out of a suit. Woof.
Anyway, I worked out it's been over a year since I bought a pair of jeans. My last pair were 34 inch blue Levi 501's, straight, and I rock those bad boys with a good pair of Chelsea boots. The waist goes pretty high, but James Dean used to wear them like that and the bitches loved his shit, aww ch'yeah.
Digressing, the reason why it's been so long is that they cost like £50 for a pair. Now, I know I could just got get a cheap pair, but they don't fit very well and look a bit crappy.
Also, I'm well aware of the apparent hypocrisy when you compare this post to the one before, but being a man doesn't mean I can't care how I look, just I care more about getting vagina than being one.
Still, why is denim so expensive? Or even labels? It's irritating, I mean Levi's are like the one brand that I would happily buy over and over, because their products are good, comfortable and look cool, but still, expensive.
I'm unaware of the overheads, I guess, I suppose little Indonesian slave children charge a fair wage for their labour.
That's another thing, actually, those fucking NSPCC adverts or Red Cross, which ever ones focus on Africa or whatever. YOUR ADVERTS DON'T WORK.
I don't know what it's like in Africa or whatever (which is now a founded nation in my dictionary, encompassing anything that isn't first world, and if you get offended, fuck you, don't pretend like you know the intricate differences between countries), in my world I was brought up with running water, not running bowels, I have no context.
I'm sure it's sad and terrible, but I honestly couldn't give less of a shit. This doesn't make me evil, this makes me honest. If it was happening on my back door, then yeah, I'd care, I'd pick up arms and shoot some motherfuckers, glock glock fo' rizzle, but it's not.
If you want me to feel anything, then show me what it would be like in my world, show me a reality where I have to live like them, not some crying children.
Seriously, stop showing me crying children, if I wanted to see that, I'd join the church.
People come up to me in the street all the time asking me to donate, and my girlfriend thinks I'm mean for telling them in a variety of colourful ways to peddle their bullshit elsewhere, but they get paid, more than I do, and they're asking for my money? Fuck them, honesty is massively important to me, and I see right through their shit-eating facade of care.
Tell me this, when was the last time someone came up to you in the street to ask for you to volunteer? If someone asked you to volunteer to give food to the homeless, or to donate blankets and food, would you really tell them to jump? Those are tangible things that we can see helping.
But of course, that's not the case, even aid is all about money money fucking money.
And if I'm paying any money for anything, it better look amazing on my ass.
No homo.
I'm not a man of fashion, it has to be said, my favorite clothes are my afghan scarf and green cargo pants. I look like a giant skater kid, but I'm comfy, although it should be said, I rock the holy shit out of a suit. Woof.
Anyway, I worked out it's been over a year since I bought a pair of jeans. My last pair were 34 inch blue Levi 501's, straight, and I rock those bad boys with a good pair of Chelsea boots. The waist goes pretty high, but James Dean used to wear them like that and the bitches loved his shit, aww ch'yeah.
Digressing, the reason why it's been so long is that they cost like £50 for a pair. Now, I know I could just got get a cheap pair, but they don't fit very well and look a bit crappy.
Also, I'm well aware of the apparent hypocrisy when you compare this post to the one before, but being a man doesn't mean I can't care how I look, just I care more about getting vagina than being one.
Still, why is denim so expensive? Or even labels? It's irritating, I mean Levi's are like the one brand that I would happily buy over and over, because their products are good, comfortable and look cool, but still, expensive.
I'm unaware of the overheads, I guess, I suppose little Indonesian slave children charge a fair wage for their labour.
That's another thing, actually, those fucking NSPCC adverts or Red Cross, which ever ones focus on Africa or whatever. YOUR ADVERTS DON'T WORK.
I don't know what it's like in Africa or whatever (which is now a founded nation in my dictionary, encompassing anything that isn't first world, and if you get offended, fuck you, don't pretend like you know the intricate differences between countries), in my world I was brought up with running water, not running bowels, I have no context.
I'm sure it's sad and terrible, but I honestly couldn't give less of a shit. This doesn't make me evil, this makes me honest. If it was happening on my back door, then yeah, I'd care, I'd pick up arms and shoot some motherfuckers, glock glock fo' rizzle, but it's not.
If you want me to feel anything, then show me what it would be like in my world, show me a reality where I have to live like them, not some crying children.
Seriously, stop showing me crying children, if I wanted to see that, I'd join the church.
People come up to me in the street all the time asking me to donate, and my girlfriend thinks I'm mean for telling them in a variety of colourful ways to peddle their bullshit elsewhere, but they get paid, more than I do, and they're asking for my money? Fuck them, honesty is massively important to me, and I see right through their shit-eating facade of care.
Tell me this, when was the last time someone came up to you in the street to ask for you to volunteer? If someone asked you to volunteer to give food to the homeless, or to donate blankets and food, would you really tell them to jump? Those are tangible things that we can see helping.
But of course, that's not the case, even aid is all about money money fucking money.
And if I'm paying any money for anything, it better look amazing on my ass.
No homo.
I wish punching was legal.
To start this off, I think I should set you up with a little something about me. I fucking hate the state of men nowadays.
This Topshop culture makes me want to stab every motherfucker in Hollyoaks just to prove that one man can take on an entire cast and crew of boys. I don't understand where straight guys get off on acting like giant faggots.
And when I say faggots, I don't mean homosexuals, I feel that word has transcended to just being an outright offence. I know plenty of gay men who are manlier than me, and I bench press tiger sharks, so that's pretty fucking manly right there.
But when most guys I see on the street are wearing tight jeans and caring more about their looks and wardrobe than their fucking girlfriends, I begin to question one thing:
What the fuck happened?
When I grew up, I had an older brother and a Dad who was brought up in Newcastle, and as such I would get hit and ripped on for doing something stupid. When I was REALLY stupid, I would even get punched in the face.
But I'm not made of glass, and that physical shock right there often deterred me.
We're animals, we were built big and strong, men that is, ladies are weak and inferior in comparison, but it's okay to say this, because women can't read, because their eyesight is based on movement. Or maybe that's vilociraptors?
I wish I was riding in that tank with Mr T from the Snickers advert, pulling up to people wearing bright pink jeans and throwing chocolate at them (although I would make sure they had spent the night in the freezer first to make them like little cocoa bricks).
I'm talking about the kind of guy who calls his Mum when his car breaks down, rather than popping the bonnet and looking at the guts of the machine as if he knew it from the arse of a cat.
Also, I had a cat for 22 years, so I happen to know what one looks like. Not in a weird way, just if you've ever had a cat, you know what I'm talking about, they are VERY confident in their assholes, and I never understand why. Even if I was a cat with no shame I still wouldn't go showing where I poop from to people, I'm not German.
I remember driving up to see Bloc Party three years ago, the day before my birthday (December 16th, don't forget) and I was on the M20, like one junction away from the M25 and suddenly my wheel went and my car started swerving.
I pulled over to the hard shoulder and found my rear passenger side wheel had burst. I had no idea how to fix a car, in Winter, on the side of a busy motorway near London, but I gave it everything and thirty minutes later after much swearing, my car had a new wheel fitted.
My best friend, who was in the car with me, didn't help because he was "freezing" so he sat in the passenger side.
This is exactly my point, when did men suddenly begin growing vaginas? The world already has 3.5 billion pussies, I really don't see why we're in such a rush to add some more post-birth.
The thing is, I can't hit these fuckers, because they'll just get me done by the fuzz. Say you're in the street and some little preppy gobshite makes a comment, self important, all dressed up by Mummy's magic plastic card. How sweet would it be if I could just lean in and smack the fucker in the nose?
Just imagine a world where people victimized arseholes in the street, they wouldn't condemn me, they'd applaud and nod in agreement. Chav's riding around on their bikes spitting on the street would be riding scared if it was legal for Joe Public to just crack one in the face, and then everyone ran to join in?
What a wonderful world if we all policed ourselves like this. I'm not talking about murder, just a punch, I mean being smacked in the face hurts like a bitch, I should know (and I'm sure you can imagine just by reading this) but it's not permanent. What will you remember more? A telling off, a word from the police, or a mob of the public slapping you about and unanimously proving that you're acting like a complete fucking arsehole?
It's not a perfect system, sure, but last time I checked, we didn't live in a perfect world.
Then again, maybe I just REALLY want to punch someone.
This Topshop culture makes me want to stab every motherfucker in Hollyoaks just to prove that one man can take on an entire cast and crew of boys. I don't understand where straight guys get off on acting like giant faggots.
And when I say faggots, I don't mean homosexuals, I feel that word has transcended to just being an outright offence. I know plenty of gay men who are manlier than me, and I bench press tiger sharks, so that's pretty fucking manly right there.
But when most guys I see on the street are wearing tight jeans and caring more about their looks and wardrobe than their fucking girlfriends, I begin to question one thing:
What the fuck happened?
When I grew up, I had an older brother and a Dad who was brought up in Newcastle, and as such I would get hit and ripped on for doing something stupid. When I was REALLY stupid, I would even get punched in the face.
But I'm not made of glass, and that physical shock right there often deterred me.
We're animals, we were built big and strong, men that is, ladies are weak and inferior in comparison, but it's okay to say this, because women can't read, because their eyesight is based on movement. Or maybe that's vilociraptors?
I wish I was riding in that tank with Mr T from the Snickers advert, pulling up to people wearing bright pink jeans and throwing chocolate at them (although I would make sure they had spent the night in the freezer first to make them like little cocoa bricks).
I'm talking about the kind of guy who calls his Mum when his car breaks down, rather than popping the bonnet and looking at the guts of the machine as if he knew it from the arse of a cat.
Also, I had a cat for 22 years, so I happen to know what one looks like. Not in a weird way, just if you've ever had a cat, you know what I'm talking about, they are VERY confident in their assholes, and I never understand why. Even if I was a cat with no shame I still wouldn't go showing where I poop from to people, I'm not German.
I remember driving up to see Bloc Party three years ago, the day before my birthday (December 16th, don't forget) and I was on the M20, like one junction away from the M25 and suddenly my wheel went and my car started swerving.
I pulled over to the hard shoulder and found my rear passenger side wheel had burst. I had no idea how to fix a car, in Winter, on the side of a busy motorway near London, but I gave it everything and thirty minutes later after much swearing, my car had a new wheel fitted.
My best friend, who was in the car with me, didn't help because he was "freezing" so he sat in the passenger side.
This is exactly my point, when did men suddenly begin growing vaginas? The world already has 3.5 billion pussies, I really don't see why we're in such a rush to add some more post-birth.
The thing is, I can't hit these fuckers, because they'll just get me done by the fuzz. Say you're in the street and some little preppy gobshite makes a comment, self important, all dressed up by Mummy's magic plastic card. How sweet would it be if I could just lean in and smack the fucker in the nose?
Just imagine a world where people victimized arseholes in the street, they wouldn't condemn me, they'd applaud and nod in agreement. Chav's riding around on their bikes spitting on the street would be riding scared if it was legal for Joe Public to just crack one in the face, and then everyone ran to join in?
What a wonderful world if we all policed ourselves like this. I'm not talking about murder, just a punch, I mean being smacked in the face hurts like a bitch, I should know (and I'm sure you can imagine just by reading this) but it's not permanent. What will you remember more? A telling off, a word from the police, or a mob of the public slapping you about and unanimously proving that you're acting like a complete fucking arsehole?
It's not a perfect system, sure, but last time I checked, we didn't live in a perfect world.
Then again, maybe I just REALLY want to punch someone.
No reason to write, no reason to read.
Like the beginning of all things, good and bad, like Bambi struggling free from his mother's deer pussy, this is no doubt going to be wobbly and revolting.
I'm still not sure what I'm doing with this, I'm just weirdly overcome by the desire to write. I'm currently persuing a job in journalism with an interview of sorts in the coming weeks (although I won't say where) and something struck me.
I'm a terrible writer.
Now, I don't mean my grammar is terrible, or I can't weave a delightful sentence or two, I'm a master wordsmith who craps out golden syllables without thought, but more because I'm so passive aggressive in my real personality, I tend to vent my aggression and immaturity into writing.
I'm trying to be a better person, you see? I'm 22, graduated from University and currently making coffee and offering IT support for a living. I live in my own place, so I'm officially an adult I guess, and my girlfriend is intense on her dreams for a career. I mean, she's like two years, nearly three younger than me and she knows what she wants to do already, it's fucking madness.
My point is, I want to grow up, I want to start cleaning my language up in my day to day, and my writing, but I always find when I hold stuff in I end up erupting like if Mt Vesuvius decided "Fuck this planet" and ejaculated harder than a horse behind Elizabeth Hurley.
Also, I have a thing for Liz Hurley. She buff 'n ting, word.
So I guess this can be my vent. No-one will really read it, so no-one can get offended.
I guess if someone does, which means you, theoretical viewer, then please excuse how hap-hazard everything is and just accept the fact that this is merely cathartic for me, I probably don't really give half a shit about the things I will discuss, I mean fuck it, I'm just your usual passive-aggressive 22 year old.
I'm not really funny, I may be a little depressing to read, possibly even for myself, but either way, this is how I'm feeling at the moment of writing.
And at the risk of dragging this on any longer, I bid you adéu until next time!
Also, I may have spelled "adéu" wrong there. If you notice this, then fuck you, because you're French.
I'm still not sure what I'm doing with this, I'm just weirdly overcome by the desire to write. I'm currently persuing a job in journalism with an interview of sorts in the coming weeks (although I won't say where) and something struck me.
I'm a terrible writer.
Now, I don't mean my grammar is terrible, or I can't weave a delightful sentence or two, I'm a master wordsmith who craps out golden syllables without thought, but more because I'm so passive aggressive in my real personality, I tend to vent my aggression and immaturity into writing.
I'm trying to be a better person, you see? I'm 22, graduated from University and currently making coffee and offering IT support for a living. I live in my own place, so I'm officially an adult I guess, and my girlfriend is intense on her dreams for a career. I mean, she's like two years, nearly three younger than me and she knows what she wants to do already, it's fucking madness.
My point is, I want to grow up, I want to start cleaning my language up in my day to day, and my writing, but I always find when I hold stuff in I end up erupting like if Mt Vesuvius decided "Fuck this planet" and ejaculated harder than a horse behind Elizabeth Hurley.
Also, I have a thing for Liz Hurley. She buff 'n ting, word.
So I guess this can be my vent. No-one will really read it, so no-one can get offended.
I guess if someone does, which means you, theoretical viewer, then please excuse how hap-hazard everything is and just accept the fact that this is merely cathartic for me, I probably don't really give half a shit about the things I will discuss, I mean fuck it, I'm just your usual passive-aggressive 22 year old.
I'm not really funny, I may be a little depressing to read, possibly even for myself, but either way, this is how I'm feeling at the moment of writing.
And at the risk of dragging this on any longer, I bid you adéu until next time!
Also, I may have spelled "adéu" wrong there. If you notice this, then fuck you, because you're French.
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