“Forgive them, even if they are not sorry.”

1 02 2013

Yesterday I saw something that made me yet again realise that strangers are sometimes a lot more friendlier and much more kind than those we know. Sometimes we find it easier to tell someone we do not know that they aren’t alone or are more inclined to make them feel less alone compared to someone we know, or are close to. I’ve tried to work this out, and I have no answer. I have no answer to anything, just my own views. Which may or may not be right; but it should NEVER be about being right because when that becomes the only thing in life that you strive for, or that gives you satisfaction then maybe you need to reevaluate your way of living. Hard to say you’re living if you do that, you’re just existing. It’s a chore, not a pleasure.

This act of kindness I witnessed was something that I wish I took a photo of. It was a beautiful thing to see, mainly because it showed that strangers have a bigger heart than those we know at times. I was walking into Tesco (other supermarkets available, so please use them..got for Sainsburys, that’s a good one. Orange plastic bags and a good vegetarian section.) Outside the shop were two homeless men. I immediately wanted to buy them something to eat and drink. I always give money or food to the homeless. You just have to, you cannot ignore them. You should always help in any way you can. Last year at Pride (London..outside the same Tesco) it was late in the evening, so I went in and bought something to eat. It was the only vegetarian thing they had. Some excuse for pasta, no idea. I was looking around and I saw this man in the doorway, it was raining too. I left my friends for a few seconds and walked up to him and gave him the food I bought. I didn’t touch what I ate, I just gave him it. He tried to refuse, but I told him he had to take it because it was raining. I saw many people ignore him and I wanted him to know that someone was thinking of him. I think of this a lot, mainly because I hope he’s okay and safe.

The two men I saw yesterday were sat outside, and as I got nearer I saw they were both huddled under a leopard print blanket someone must have given them and they were also sharing a pizza that someone had bought for them. Strangers can offer more than we know. We are always told “don’t speak to strangers.” But why? Sometimes those that are the closest to us are the ones that do the most damage, and those who know nothing about us are the ones that can sometimes give us what we need; kindness and hope. I can contradict myself here with two things. I once helped someone who was (and still is) my best friend. We’ve known each other since we were 4 and have fallen out once. Anyway, I was at someone’s house and she was a horrible creature. She bullied everyone, and eventually picked on me because she was a fool. Anyway, she lived right near my best friend and she was being beyond horrible to her. She was riding round on her bike, and I had enough of her being horrible to my friend so (she was wearing a helmet and landed on a lot of grass) I pushed her off her bike when she came back around. My best friend and I ran to her house. I hid, and she told her mum what I did. She was fine with it and we ate pizza. I stuck up for my best friend because that’s what you do. Once, a stranger punched me in the face and nearly ripped my nose ring out. So I guess there are always exceptions. I didn’t retaliate. My hitting someone in a fight would be a comedy moment. I’d lose my balance and just punch myself in the face.

People always say, when you tell them what’s wrong, that someone else always has it worse. I think that does more harm than good. It just makes the person who feels bad, feel more shit than they already do. We need to be more compassionate and less judgemental. Not every homeless person is a junkie. Not every junkie is a bad person. Bad people are everywhere, as are good. It’s just we are exposed to negativity because sad-cases thrive off it. It’s a terrible way to be. Maybe I need to stop seeing the good in everyone, but we all deserve a chance. That’s basically what the point of this is, maybe you took something else from it. I have no idea. Just next time you see someone sleeping rough on the street, it wouldn’t hurt you to buy them a drink or give them some change. The kindness in strangers is needed; kindness in general is. If it was you, you’d want someone to help you in some way right?

Advertisements




“But this collision came mid-bloom.”

3 12 2012

The darkness is better than daytime. I don’t really like daylight. I don’t like things shining brightly in my eyes, yet I hate sunglasses and in the summer, I just squint and go partially blind. My eyesight is awful at the best of times. It makes everything much more interesting. Sometimes.

My thing about the dark, is for a while (when I was a child) I was terrified of it. Then I grew out of it, and it became something that didn’t trouble me anymore. I don’t mind it getting dark at 4pm, it doesn’t bother me. I think I enjoy it more than still seeing everything clearly at 8pm you know? Sure the summer is nice, but I just like the dark. I like listening to certain bands when everything is dark; inside and out. For example, I cannot walk about in the daytime listening to Burial. It has to be dark out. I have to either be on the bus home or just lying in complete darkness. The music he makes creates something in your mind like no other. Seventeen Seconds by The Cure (their best record) is not a record I can listen to during the daytime either. It has to be pitch black, just to get the true and tense atmosphere of the record.

I can listen to the likes of Beach House, Warpaint, Morrissey, Captain Beefheart anytime. It doesn’t have to be light or dark. It can be anytime at all. Warpaint aren’t a band I feel I can sit and listen to with anyone else around. Maybe because if the person didn’t like them or get it, I’d be a bit (a lot) distraught. Aside from Stars, I can listen to Warpaint anytime.

Nick Cave, I can listen to him constantly. Grinderman, The Bad Seeds, The Birthday Party. Any of it, all of it at anytime. Much like Bob Dylan and Townes Van Zandt. Most get lonely at night, but when you listen to certain songs you can feel lonely right there and then. Or maybe, you feel less alone. Music is such a powerful thing, and it can take you anywhere. It goes with you everywhere. I go to music before I go to a person. It is like a reference point or something. I’m not sure. This is so so badly written, and maybe I should say sorry. But I cannot say sorry if I am not. Do what you want.

The night-time is the perfect time to fix everything. Some fuck things up at night-time. You can do both. In whatever order you wish to do so. No one’s going to judge. And if they do? Whatever. Who cares. See, the night-time can also make you rant can’t it. Or maybe that’s just me.

I seem to be growing tired of writing. I have no idea why I do it. It’s not like any good comes from it, or anyone sees it or whatever. I do it, I suppose because a small part of me thinks I must. I probably shouldn’t. I’ll drag the writing about a bit longer. We can only go so far.

As it’s dark outside, thankfully; maybe these songs will indulge you in it a bit more.

 





“A hostage to kindness and the wheels underneath her.”

20 11 2012

I was thinking about something earlier as I was leaving the house to go the gym. My days off are spent there in the hopes I can somehow change how I look and stop disliking myself as much as I do. Self-hate doesn’t leave you, does it? Or maybe it does. Maybe I am set to loath myself in my 20’s so I can learn to like myself from 30 onwards. I’ve got 4 years left of this, maybe I’ll go against this theory. Or maybe I’ll give in to it. It depends. I use my stubborn ways for the wrong thing. Always bad, never good.

So this thing about self-hate. I dislike it when people say things such as “I AM SO VILE. I AM SO FAT.” when they weigh next to nothing. The worst kind put this on certain websites. No one really cares about how much you hate yourself. You see, I dislike myself but I’m not going to announce it everywhere for attention. In a way, I’ve just “announced” it but no one I know or whatever reads this so it doesn’t matter. I’m not doing this for pity or for anyone to say “You’ve got a good face. You’re okay as you are.” I don’t want that. I don’t want any form of attention. Good or bad. If I get a hair cut, please don’t notice. Just don’t pick up on it. Go look at something else. Like a painting; that’s much more interesting.

I don’t dislike myself because I’m a miserable twat. I just do. There’s no explanation to it; but I constantly work on trying not to. I don’t dislike myself as much as I did when I was a teenager or going back a few years. You have to take baby steps with things like that. I don’t go to the gym because I want the body of a stick insect. Far from it. I have in my head, a goal. I’ve not told anyone nor will I ever. I know a person’s weight or appearance doesn’t define them, but we live in a judgemental world sadly. I get constantly told to stop wearing black all the time. Am I going to? Am I fuck. I’d go out in my superhero pjs if I could (one of the many brilliant presents my girlfriend got me for my birthday.) but they’re a bit long and I’d trip up.

I thought that, the older I get; the less dislike I’d have for myself. To an extent I’m right. I doubt myself a lot, especially with writing. I don’t do it because I want someone to say I’m any good. I do it because if I thought I was good, I’d stop. Self-doubt isn’t always a bad thing. Sometimes it is the one thing that can make you carry on. It lasts longer than hope. I’ve never been good at much, and I don’t mean it in a bad way. Some part of me just doesn’t settle. Or maybe doesn’t want to. The thought of being in one place for the rest of my life makes me feel sick. Maybe this is because I’ve never really felt at home anywhere. Maybe I should work on that, or maybe it’s okay to carry on drifting through. I’m alright with being unnoticed. I don’t think my purpose in life is to be noticed. Why would I want that.

I think a lot of people think they’re not good enough, but surely if you surround yourself with people who make you feel inadequate then you are hanging around the wrong kind of people? I could be wrong. I could be right.

You’ll make friends and enemies on the way. You’ll have good days, you’ll have bad days. You’ll like yourself, you’ll dislike yourself. But NEVER any account must you let someone make you feel shit about yourself, ever. You can do that all by yourself, but it’s easier to understand and control. You don’t always have to walk with your head held high, sometimes the cracks in the pavement are much more interesting than your surroundings. You don’t stop learning. Time is a drag, and it seems like it is never on our side. Someone will love you even if you cannot stand yourself. You may not be able to understand how or why; but they do. It is there. They are there.





“I’m the fury in your head, I’m the fury in your bed. I’m the ghost in the back of your head.”

18 09 2012

I was walking home from my morning ritual of slowly killing myself at the gym (it needs to pay off one day) and it began to rain. I already looked a mess, so what harm would a bit of rain do?

Everything in that moment seemed alright. Maybe it was the songs I listened to. Or maybe I knew I was going home, and I was going to nap. Sure it was a really shit nap, but I was going to be asleep. I like being asleep because I’m no trouble to anyone. I’ve gone back 10 years, I feel 15 again. It’ll pass. It must do.

Everything positive has something negative. Everything negative has something positive. Everything seems to be balanced, but you always find yourself leaning towards one side. Or maybe you are being pulled towards a side you cannot stand. Yet you must go there. Rock bottom is a lesson for us all. Does it exist? Is it just an idle threat to make us feel worse than we already do? You always think you’ve hit your lowest point, you think you cannot get any lower. Like things cannot get worse, but can they? They get better. They also can get worse. See, it is all balanced out.

So you close your eyes around 2am hoping sleep comes. It comes eventually. When you sleep, do you dream? Do you doubt yourself in dreams too? You don’t always get what you want- dreaming or awake. I hate that I function better when I am tired. When I am tired, certain things make more sense. When I’m awake, I think I usually want to sleep and watch Disney films.

Sometimes we make ourselves out to be awful. Maybe it is from past abandonment, maybe we’re not sure of ourselves, maybe we’re not truly awful. We’ve all got our faults, we shouldn’t let them rule us.

As I’m not one for ever listening to myself, have some songs that made dragging myself home in the rain a lot less awful.





“I’ll give you anything, but I’ll give you problems.”

22 08 2012

Maybe all of our actions come from the reaction to what has been done to us before. Other people sometimes do not tread gently when they face us, sometimes you meet rare ones who know what to do. Everything becomes tough at some point. There’s no right or wrong way to deal with anything. Everyone has expectations of others, which is why we are always carrying some disappointment on our backs. The disappointment in ourselves, the disappointment others give us. So why do we get close? A lot of good can come from it, a lot of bad can come from it. Letting go is an art form that is a pain to master. I know, I know all too well. I managed to let something go the other day. The realisation hit me whilst on the rowing machine the other morning at the gym. All my thoughts for about half an hour were on this, and I eventually let go. No resentment, no hatred, no love, no longing, no wanting. No nothing. You feel so much lighter, and everything seems clearer. Just because certain things happen doesn’t mean you have to follow the pattern. It is easy to go back in on yourself. I know that all too well. I’ve currently fallen into that. It’s not a crippling shyness. More like an excruciating dose of “I cannot go further than…” Change the place, change your state of mind. Anyway.

You look up for answers. Maybe the answers are inside of you. Maybe you get a brief moment of clarity when you finish a book, or a line from a song or poem just make you wake up, come alive. Something. I’m waiting. I’m always waiting. Looking. Taking it all in. I give out more than I have. I’m far too patience. But maybe it is a strength rather than a weakness. My stubborn ways are good and bad. I know when to turn it off, I know when to use it. I think most of us do you know? Or maybe we don’t. If you’re always cautious, you may miss out. Please don’t be a coward.

Some will aways use certain traits you have against you. You can rise above it. Be miserable, cry, laugh, fall over, take your time getting back up. Rock bottom happens to us all. You’ll crawl out from under there when you are ready. Take your time. Always. Go slow.





“Release your mind, through your hands and your feet. A sigh digs you out when you’re getting too deep.”

2 08 2012

Fools judge, so spit the cold words back at them. Ever look at something and think, “Fuck I can’t be here.” So you try your hardest to transport all your thoughts elsewhere? This happened to me today. Sure it happens most of the time to be honest. But today it was more vivid than usual. You don’t want to have these thoughts whilst on a treadmill, it can cause accidents. I was fine. I’m steady. I’m quite clumsy at times though. My attention is easily diverted. I’m writing this and doing about 3 other things because this isn’t enough to hold my attention. I’m going somewhere better than just typing words on a screen.

The only thing that can truly hold my attention is music. Okay a couple of people do too..but music is a solid. I think it is the only secure thing in my life. That said; I really dislike organisation and being told what to do. I hate being rushed. Hate it. Nothing in life needs to be rushed. Move at the pace of a sloth..well, maybe a bit quicker but you know what I mean. You gather up your thoughts and place them in boxes in your mind. I don’t do that. Everything is pushed back. In a heap. This for me, isn’t a bad thing. I’m more likely to have a song playing round my head than anything else.

The escapism is still there; always. I always want to leave where I am. Always. I probably came out of the womb wishing I was born elsewhere. They teach you to do what you want, but when you do some fuck says you’re wrong. But you aren’t wrong. They’re wrong.

Something will always take over you. Something will make you snap. I long for the day where I can leave and never come back. It’ll be a moment I look back on and feel I’ve finally done something right. Sometimes you want to tear your eyes out in the hopes a new pair grow back and you see things differently. Just because you can see things differently doesn’t mean your heart feels any different.

Kicking and screaming. Dragging and wailing. Get out. Find a sound and let it take you over. Get out. Just get out.

But I am incapable of taking my own advice, and I hate the way I write.

 





“We hide out in the back,like shadows in a stranger’s dream.”

22 07 2012

I have no direction in life. I know what I want, but the realist (or cynic) in me knows I’ll never get there. If I do, I’ll welcome the surprise and probably buy a bottle of Ribena to celebrate. If I expect nothing; I’m not left disappointed. They say this makes for a lonely existence. Maybe for them it does, but not for me. You can be alone even when surrounded by people who apparently like you. It’s hard to like people isn’t it. I used to think “oh everyone is lovely la la la.” It’s not the case. You grow up and you see what people are capable of. I’m not perfect. I’ve probably done more harm than good. But I’m not going to beg for forgiveness and waste my life doing things people approve of. I don’t understand people who need to seek the approval of others in order to be whole. I don’t get why you’d want to dumb yourself down to fit in. I don’t get a lot, it seems. Thing is, self-doubt carries me through. I spent an afternoon the other day at the beach, on my own. These thoughts came into my mind and poured out into the songs I was listening to. We all have bad days, we all have good days. My bad day was enough to make me think, “Is this rock bottom?” It wasn’t. I’ve not hit there in a long time. I put up a fight with myself to make sure I never feel so shit again. I can write this so freely and not care for it. I’ll write this and never look at it again. I never look back on what I have written. Whether it be the nonsense I put here, my songs or my poems. I never look back at them. I don’t know why. Maybe I just think as soon as it leaves me, I don’t need to bother with it. Maybe one day I’ll look back and be proud. As I stood looking at the sea last week, I felt at peace. I also felt like shit. But the wave of peace that came over me was something I’ve not really felt before. I stared blasting Coming Down by Dum Dum Girls in my ears. I felt a connection to that song I had never felt before.

Very early Friday morning..Dee Dee Penny from the band had emailed me her over of Just Like Honey by The Jesus And Mary Chain that she recorded just for me. Quite frankly, it is the best thing I had been given. The tears of the day before were quickly taken over with happy tears. I’m not someone who cries a lot. I’m too sensitive, but I can stop myself. You shouldn’t be afraid to feel. You shouldn’t be scared of the bad days. You shouldn’t throw away the good days. We seem to be afraid to feel. To feel like shit, to love and to feel hurt. It all ties in, but you cannot ignore one side. You just can’t.

The more you hide from something; the worse it’ll be when it comes back around. Luckily, no one I am really close to will read this so I can just let all this out. Like I said earlier, self-doubt isn’t a bad thing. If I ever thought I was good at something; I wouldn’t try. If I thought I was even a decent writer, I’d stop. I’d rather be told “you write really well” rather than “you’ve got a good face.” I don’t believe any of these things, not because I want attention. If I wanted attention I’d get drunk and shout something from my bedroom window. Keep me in the background, part of the furniture. Let someone else shine. Let them over-take. I’m okay with moving slow and doing what I want rather than doing everything rushed and missing out the details. I’ll never be the love of someone’s life. I’ll never be able to play the drums. But I will do a Bob Dylan impression after a few glasses of whiskey if I feel it needs to be done. I found life lessons in the songs I played. I’ve never felt at home anywhere, maybe I’m one of those people who never is at home anywhere. I don’t like routine or structure. I don’t like plans. Everything around you can be beautiful, find an escape route. Or be the escape route. Maybe fate is something that doesn’t exist. The lack of control we have isn’t always a bad thing. I don’t get why you’d always want to be in control of everything. If it is unknown, keep it that way.

I live in a very judgmental place and I cannot wait to leave again. To leave for good. I left one place I hated for good. I’ll never go back. Leaving is easy when you let no one tell you what to do. Advice is alright, but you shouldn’t always do what is right for you. Put your OWN happiness first. Put yourself first. Don’t let anyone sway your heart. Go the beach, and listen to the songs that give you courage.

Here’s mine: