Announcement

FWL is here. And it is MUCH FUN.

Twitter is proof.

Ketchup

London, I think we got a problem.

I'm finally listening to pink's album. Anyways.

I'm just in the calm before the activity, so figured I should, like, update, or something. I am just back from H's birthday day/weekend thing. It was really good.

On the Thursday night we just hung out at a local pub with a random bunch of H's friends. I finally confirmed the rumours, which was interesting, but a relief.

Then, on Fritag, we went hovercrafting. Which, be tea double you, is surprisingly taxing on the leg muscles. But muchos fun. I crashed into a straw bale.

Afters we went up to 'Derrycityofculture2013. Which was also funtastic. I have never seen so many police in my life though. I started a conspiracy that derry was a ghost city. Anyway. Last time we'll not check the marching schedule before going travelling.. Then H had to leave to go to work, so the rest of us continued to Donegal. Stunning scenery up there, should you ever be in the area. We essentially collapsed for a while, then went into the town to peruse their equivalent of poundshops. Got a 500 piece jigsaw to do. Error. So freaking frustrating. It was of various animals.. except there were a disproportionate number of small rodents. Took forever to get done.

Um, I kinda forgot what I was recapping.

Anyways, tomorrow, hubbo no. 1 appears ^_^

Then FWL on wedders.

W000000000000000000000t.

Laters.

Hrm. I feel mildly crushed.

Tourism Take One

Wheeeeeeeeee.
Some folk are over visiting til Wednesday, so I have been busy today being a tourist.

It was fun. Although surprisingly tiring, considering that essentially all we did was sit around and eat loads. We toured the local country estate, which was nice. Then we headed up to el capitale and had lunch in this wicked pub that has the title liquor saloon. Major plus points. It was so nice to be able to walk in past the hordes of americans and into our nice little booth thing. Heavenly. It's owned by the NT as well. That's two in one day. Tomorrow we will be visiting our third [and maybe fourth]. Huz. Zah.

After stuffing ourselves, we wandered around and found a nice open top vehicle in a fetching shade of red and sat on it for 90 minutes. I got very windswept. It was a good look, I'm sure.

Then, after all that strenuous sitting, we had to go and have a coffee. Natch.

Suddenly, well, not so suddenly seeing as we had prior notice, more folk appeared and we wandered around trying to find somewhere else to eat that was not shut on a monday. Tough task. Ended up at a chinese buffet. Which was overpriced and overMSGed. Boke.

And the day was done. Return to base. Bed.

Tomorrow, hexagonal rocks ahoy.

Poyem.

I write down the words but they change for her
I say them instead, she hears something else
So I start to rip the stitches, let her look inside
Maybe there in the darkness she will realise
That what I'm trying to say is true
If only she knew.

I always forget about poetry. But then, it normally sounds arsey.

Jaunt

Well, I am back from my little ldn jaunt.

I had a verr nice time. Verr good.

I saw my husband, soon to be fiancé, and we planned out our future lives together.

Then we got traaaashed in soho, avec KJ and misc others. And yeah, much hanging out was had.

I quite liked the little bubble I had created. Except now I'm suffering from post-bubble-bursting-sadness.. as per. Which is why I am stopping myself from going off on a little squee rant about things, because that would only make me realise quite how much I miss them. Sigh.

I'm considering drawing a new comic page. Hrrm.

We'll see.

Demi

Hmm.

London calling tomorrow.

Joy.

So I will be MIA for a few days [like it'll be any different to normal..]

I had my hair cut today. Well, thinned, at least. I seem to have a thing now, where I always lie and create these exciting things that I'm doing which explain why I'm having my hair cut. Because I can never quite stomach saying 'no, I'm just going home and sitting around all day, sorry that your few hours' work isn't going to any good use..'

Sigh. I don't want to go. I hate interviews.

I want to be a demi-god.

Ferown

:(

Well after a really good saturday, I ruined it. Quel surprise. I'm good at wrecking stuff.

I've been having this really weird series of dreams over the past 3 nights. I know talking about dreams is boring but meh.

It takes place around my house, which can somehow fit more in when it's in dreamland. Anyway, the main plot is that there are these magic horse-type things [mintys], which may or may not have existed, but we were trying to find them. But there was someone who wanted to stop this. There's always someone who wants to stop things. Normally though, they don't dress in black and try to kill you with arrows fired sniper-like from places you can't see. In the middle of being chased by a mysterious sniper, there was some kind of auction being held that I had to run. The auction included a lion-dog. Anyway. We were just figuring out that the mintys did exist, and that they were running about in a thunderstorm, and that they needed to be caught. There were some interesting cameos at this point, which makes me wonder about my subconscious. Quite why I thought the lead singer of a student jazz type band, popular at my uni, was an appropriate expert on these weird horses, I don't know. But she was. And as I had just been shot at again, I wasn't going to argue. Anyway, cutting out a bit of manic running around, getting rained on, and being continually shot at.. I found out who the sniper was, and stuff, and I was just about to find out why the hell they'd been shooting at me.. when my mother woke me up. GUTRASH.

Sigh.

Gerin.

Hee.

I'm having a pretty ace saturday so far.

Trying to do another painting.. it's going slowly. Mostly because I'm being nicely distracted though. So it'sall gravy.

Need to go get clean at some stage. Cos I currently stink of white spirits.

I'm going to LDN again next week. Cept I'm staying for a few days and might go journeying about the country. Which will be fun. If I figure out anywhere to journey to.

Arg. Right. Need to chop onions.

Be Back Laterzzzzz

Idea

Do you ever wish you could just let someone else in your head, so they could see you're being honest, and finally believe what you're saying?

I do.

Watching inception made the idea a bit freaky though.

And then, there'd be no hiding.

Hmm.

Refinement needed methinks.

Socially Secure

If I am ever in a position to make a movie/ tv series, there is definitely going to be a social security office as a location.

I spent a good 50 minutes in there today. It is just.. Soul destroying.

There is a sign that I love though. It reads:

"Anyone found defacing the walls etc will be banned and may face prosecution for criminal damage."

The quotation marks are included on the sign. Which, for some reason, just makes it for me.

Anyhoo.

Spent some time re-wiring the chicken house. Lying on a ladder is not very comfortable.

I have nothing else to ramble about for the moment.

Toodles.

Uhh.. Damn.

Urgh.

I feel full of dread.

I hate... I don't even know what I hate.

Just, yeah.

I'm great at being incomprehensible.

---

In other news, I learnt how to mix concrete [thank you internet] and improvised how to lay a stable floor. So horse now has a floor which is bumpy in different places compared to how it used to be.

Painting is at a point I can pretend is finished. There are a number of things wrong with it. I will annotate them below:

1- the mouth is wrong, and really stupid. It's like, too plain somehow? And looks like a fish.

2 - clumsy, and too sharp with not enough shading. eurgh.

3 - again, too plain. And it doesn't make sense.

4 - is the wrong shape. too pot-bellied. Considering the rib cage is supposed to be being pulled upwards, there should be more of a weird hollow thing going on.

5- hands. enough said really. They're just so wrong and deformed and fuzzy.

6 - hair/shoulder. so, so clumsy. the shoulder is too big and rounded. the hair is just... argh. hair and hands. I need to work on hair and hands. Hairy hands maybe.

7 - you can't really see in this picture, but the trousers are terrible. Actually terrible. My material skills also need work.

Overall: I'm not happy with the background/figure relationship. In my head it looked so much better. I think I made a mistake using oils because they didn't really allow for what I wanted to do. I used them cos I wanted to get the skin decent. I failed in that. Apart from the armpit area, which I oddly think is ok. Apart from the visible charcoal line. Grr. Anyway. This was part one in what's probably gonna be a trio. I have that much energy to get out. I'm thinking I'll try to go more natural for the next two. Back to learning how to paint, if you will.

Might go try and locate my old sketchbooks. I need to sketch again.

~over und out

Barf.

So, my head this morning was interesting.

Signing on with it was a fun challenge. I'm fairly sure I stank out the social security office with my alcohol aura. Anyway, I am officially a Bum. But at least I can pay people back now. Win.

I had my first fry.

It. Was. A. Mazin'.

There was so many different types of bread soaked in fat. It was freaking immense. Made me feel almost human again. Then I finally found some canvases! Massive ones! Well. Normal sized ones. Like I used to have at a-level, but have mysteriously become endangered. So then I spent some time painting. Except that I got this weird thing in my left arm/hand where it went all numb and twitchy and shaky and.. yeah. Strange.

The painting isn't going well. I have changed it several times. I can't do it. It's so frustrating. Blah.

Will finish it tomorrow. Had to cut it short for the dinner. Which was also uh-mazing. I am so stuffed. Feeling majorly obese. Eugh. I disgust myself.

Right, I might as well sleep, because I have nothing better to be doing. And I have no distractions, or distractin' to do. Much as I want to.

Laters

Attention

Never again will I drink:

strongbow, double bourbon, white wine, red wine, champagne, red wine, white wine, "get 'er bucked" [buckfast AND jager, together, with no mixer], coke, and magners

in that particular order.

End of service announcement.

Noose.

Sigh. I don't know why silence bothers me so. Can't even handle a day of it.

Gah.

Being rational is so overrated... right? It's probably not. Buggery.

Sigh. At least midsomer murders is on. At least I've seen it before so I know what happens.

Argles. I am confused by how much I want to do things I shouldn't.

I'm surprised by how much I want to talk.

Back to quiet corner.

Fresh Coat

In my attempt to keep myself quiet I have been painting the loft.

In some ways, I suppose it is quite sad.. painting over what I thought was cool in 2000. But then it is highly embarrassing, and I am certainly no banksy.

It's quite a nice mindless activity, painting. Allows me to zone out, but feel like I achieve something at the end of it. Although I do wreck my hands, stupid roller. I'm considering trying to make the loft into a place to paint pictures. I think it could work, but I have to figure out how to sort everything out. I've got a concept in my head for the first thing I want to paint, but I need a canvas to put it on. I thought I could use board, until I remembered a part of the concept, and realised I need canvas. Bleh. Annoying.

Will venture out tomorrow to search for some.

I'm annoyed about this rioting that's going on. Where are the supposedly brutal police? hmm? Grr. Rioters make me angry. I just want to tell them to wise the fuck up.

I'm on a quest for some new(ish) music. Any tips?

So far I'm just diggin' ronson's newest. Mostly because of mndr though.

I must make a pretty amusing sight, with my headphones in, wearing painting clothes, miming and dancing away with a roller in one hand.. Maybe I'll film it.

Oh. Yes. I have a youtube channel now. Well, I say I. I of course mean 'we', but as FWL and I are essentially one brain.. it's pretty much the same difference. 6Chesterton. Check it. Not that there's anything new.

Will probably ramble about something else later..

Directions

I'm just gonna go over here and be quiet in the corner... kay?

Kay.

Honesstea.

Hrm.

I want to be able to live 23.10, 10/07/10 -> 9.30, 11/07/10 on repeat. Just round and round in circles. It wouldn't bother me. I'd be happy.

I knew I wouldn't like this. I knew I wouldn't want to deal with it. The underline is though, I knew it would happen. I was told. So why am I so.. fixated, still?

Maybe it's the swirling of considerations going round in my head. Was it all just a joke? A competition? See who could show me to be a hypocritical loser first? Was it an ego boost? Worse than that.. was it pity? It probably was pity. Fuck.

I gotta say though. Though. Hats off. Jolly good sport this. I guess I should have known. After all, it is what everybody does, just at differing points. Maybe that's what I could do for a job.. I could let people get inside my head, and then let them break me. For a fee. In whatever way they want. I mean, obviously, the consumer would have to do a fair bit of work themselves, cos getting into my head, even when I want you there takes quite a lot. Especially to get you to the proper level of constant consideration. But it seems that there is much fun to be had in destroying whatever I'd just built up. Like older kids kickin' sandcastles or tearing down lego creations. 'Cos I tend to work in patterns. Secretly I think that everyone works in patterns, they just don't accept it or attempt to change it ever. I get really into someone, they begin to convince me that my default position and defence mechanism of not believing something, or being extremely cautious about it, is silly and incorrect. I decide 'aw, what the hell, they're really awesome', the tipping point is reached [I described it earlier as 'feeling as if I was worth the air I was reducing the oxygen content of', god I was feeling crushed] and I trust them.

Then they fuck off.

Usually pretty completely. It's like someone posted everyone in the world a nice little memo with 'if you really wanna do some spectacular damage, cut all communications and pretend the wankstain doesn't exist'. It works. It really, really works.

So now I'm stuck in this enraging state of being ridiculously into someone with nothing to do about it. It's like there was this balloon in my head inflating full of thoughts and just as it approached being full, someone popped it. And now there are just all of those thoughts everywhere without containment, without hope, and just me to flounder around trying to collect them together again..

The worst part is, that I get it. I'm the perfect person if that's what you gotta do. I'm amazing for it. Hey, look, self-confidence! I do have it. Just in unexpected places. And of course, nobody will bother to refute this point, because it would be pointless. Or, y'know, impossible. I can't actually tell if that's what the real stinger is... the fact that people consider it easier to let me think that I am nothing apart from fault.. thus reinforcing my definition of myself.. because of my definition of myself. I am a self-fufilling prophecy. Just. Dandy. [I miss the Dandy. Even though the Beano was better. I miss them both.] Easier to let alcohol ferment in itself and become more alcoholic, than to separate it out and give it a chance to be a decent drink. Or something. I'm not really sure where that analogy was going.

I just.. god. I miss her.

But that's what I do. Take someone who could have been a really good friend and remove every molecule of chance that being friends ever happens. It is all my own fault. I was wrong before, this is what really hurts. It is my fault. I am to blame for it all. That's why I spend so long trying to construct some reasoning that makes it seem like it was the other person's decision to do this, when really, they had no choice. Only option available. Thanks to me. I wish I could be better. I wish I could be charming. I wish I could be someone that you'd want to have around.

How could I ever have thought that was possible? How did my brain entertain that idea? So what if I really liked someone? So what if I thought that I could make someone a tiny, microscopic, bit happier, on some occasions, from time to time?(ha! as if.) So what if I want to talk to them allthetimeeveryday? When you're 100% selfish, as I am, everyone will be able to tell from a mile away that you're bad news. Which I am.

I mean, look. Just look at this post. It is so self-centred. Not one consideration of anyone else. Why? Because I know that they win. I know that I made them feel worse. I know that I treated them with much less care and respect than they treated me. I deserve this.

I am far, far too selfish.

But god, I want to change it. I want to go back to that time frame..

Fuck me. Now is not the time for 'Fast Car'.

I'ma go bury my head in my pillow. Hopefully I'll breathe in one too many hollow fibres for my lungs to take.

*fingers crossed*

if that fails. there'll be another more considered post tomorrow.. because I really don't think this says what I mean it to. Gah.

Filler 4

There's gonna be something actually proper here later. It will probably be emo and melodramatic.

First though, TV and alcohol.

Storytime.

Once upon a time there was a scruff. The scruff was stupid by most accounts. There were a few accounts that were positive, but they were a bit dodge, due to bad book-keeping and the like.

Scruff was having a pretty miserable life. Scruff was indeed shown to be stupid, and not very good at keeping friends, and had no real Reason to exist.

One day, Scruff met a tall[er], dark[er], handsome[r] (although it was hard not to be) Strange[r]. The Strange was not strange in any of the normal contexts. Strange was strange because of the conceptual confusion surrounding her. She was very pretty, but did not exploit this to her advantage. She had eyes that could steal the work of swords, x-rays, and small puppies, but she let them keep their jobs. Strange also wore a hat extremely well. As Scruff illustrates, it is hard to wear a hat. Not everyone has a head that can handle them. Indeed, most of the heads that think they can handle them are not, in fact, wearing the hat, but being worn.

Strange's hat knew its place. It rested there with the appropriate easy slouch and worked in conjunction with Strange's eyebrows to convey confusion and disbelief amongst other things that made the cause of the emotion feel rather as if they had forgot to dress themselves that morning.

Strange had the ability to make people go off on rather large diatribes about hats.

Scruff had been previously been considered to be good at counting. Scruff had passed exams in Complicated Counting. But even those qualifications were not enough to enable Scruff to count the leagues between her and Strange. Scruff's neck felt sore even thinking about how far above her Strange resided. And yet, when Strange talked to Scruff she made Scruff feel as if she had been dragged up to the upper realms where the decent folk hung out. Scruff was fairly wary of this at first. She didn't really know how to be A Good Person. And that was what Strange made her feel like. All of a sudden Scruff felt of some worth. Roughly equivalent to that of iron and steel. Scruff began to like feeling that she had a value, that there was a little speck of Reason beginning to grow and explain her internal organs working so consistently.

To be continued. And then moved to voat...

Just Say... shrug?

I've definitely been awake for too long.. my awake:asleep ratio is all off, and my eyelids are sticking together. It's like their way of forcing sleep upon me.

Also, sia's song makes me want to cry. I'm not sure what has caused this reaction to it but oh well.

And also, I haven't felt a snow patrol song summed up any moment in my life so accurately since I was about 14. Shockface:

I mean, yes, it's upbeat and I'm very not, but still. Lyrics are there. Good ole Gary.

Right. I need to crawl into bed and curl up into the foetal position.