Slowly making an effort to fill the house with less plastic, a sound decree really, it makes sense. My parents had nothing in their possession save some family heirlooms which, even if it was worth some money they wouldn’t have sold them on.
For the saddest or depressing thing isn’t that some poor soul has to produce these things in a backend factory in Shenzhen. No the worst thing about it, that as part of the ‘civilised’ end of the world we lap it up as if it was mana from heaven. I glance around the room and look at all the things I could live without, it comes down to a few things, in no particular order, a copy of written word, my girlfriend and a single photo of my parents smiling back at me with my niece and nephew. For all my materialism in the past, of which I can testify was fierce, it has all given way to this feeling of not wanting to deal with more plastic junk rattling around my desk adding more surface area for dust to gather.
Like all trends or fashion, something comes and then a week later it disappears as if no one was interested in the first place, that to me is the epitome of owning more plastic crap then one can realise. A few of my colleagues were asking if I was going to get an IPad and for all my love of Apple products and the beauty they instil, I can’t bring myself to part with the kind of cash that will buy me a nice sofa. I walk into a conversation at work and it’s about playing flight control on the IPad, which is a fun game, but all I can think of is the price tag and a 2d game which enhances no ones life and fritters away some useful 10 minutes which could be spent writing a poem or inventing new recipes. That is the epitome of the less plastic equation.
Save your money my beautiful eggs, but more importantly save your time, use it for something wonderful.
They made a statue of us
and put it on a mountaintop
Now tourists come and stare at us
Blow bubbles with their gum,
take photographs of fun
have fun
they'll name a city after us
and later say it's all our fault
then they'll give us a talking to
then they'll give us a talking to
cause they've got years of experience
musik
- This Charming Man- Death Cab for Cutie
- Sheena is a Parasite- The Horrors
- God’s Gonna Cut You Down- Johnny Cash
- Innosense- The Smashing Pumpkins
- Kiss Me Goodbye- Angela Aki
- Baduizm- Erykah Badu
- Have One On Me- Joanna Newsom
- Magic Of Lang Lang- Lang Lang
- The Complete Bitches Brew- Miles Davis
- About a Girl- Nirvana
- Twenty Years- Placebo
- Eet- Regina Spektor
- Us- Regina Spektor
- It’s Only Rock and Roll But I Like It- The Rolling Stones
videospiele
- Bioshock
- Uncharted 2- Among Thieves
kino
- Lord of the Rings Trilogy- Extended Edition
- Exit Through The Gift Shop- Film By Banksy
- In the Mood for Love- Wong Kar Wai
- Alien Anthology
verschiedenes
- loneliness in the flat,
- realising how brilliant Regina Spektor is,
- snow capped landings flowing into a mild winter,
- wearing a helmet that makes me look like something out of Spaceballs,
- wrestling with iTunes,
- living for a future which will be full for happiness and wonderful things
Zhuangzi wrote about dreaming as a butterfly dreaming as a man. It would be a little macbre and untrue if I was to stay that I cut myself to make me realise that this isn't a dream. But sometimes the dusk moment between dreaming and waking up can be a frightening experience.
I once dreamt that I was shot in the head, I died in the dream, the lead up to it a mixture of crazy moments which I don't remember. I just remember the sight of someone pointing a gun at me and the bullet slicing apart the left side of my brain. A moment later, I was awake sitting in a room, I remember it being grimey with a cold light coming out of the drawn curtains to my right. I heard my mum calling to me to come downstairs for dinner.
Then I woke up for real. I could have pressed return carriage a few days after that to make the prose more dramatic but I don't think thats the point of the dream. This isn't an anecdote which the psychotic part of my mind created to re tell again and again as some philsophical game. The only point I can really believe is that this really was me waking up from dream in a dream and only that. My mind was unwinding for the night and through circumstance and the length of my own sleep, I really wasn't ready to wake.
Sometimes it feels like the life I'm living is a detatchment of reality to what I see with my own eyes. My hope is that for all the pain and unknown unfolding as well the amazing and happy things each and every day of my life, I never wake up from all of this.
Live your dreams my beautiful eggs.
The further away I get from you
The harder it gets for everyone else, for everyone else
The happier I am when I'm with you
The harder it gets when I am alone, when I am alone
verschiedenes
- signing up for a 10k special
- serious chats in the afternoon
- memorbilia hunting
- Pete.........
- burning desires to write and write
- the end of another year
Life in the UK for me (well for the tasters I've had, I dont really live there anymore), it's always been a life of duality. Chinese to my Western Friends, while British to my Eastern friends. After all the words fade away I realised those things didn't matter as much as I thought they did and since then I've been enjoying the life I've always wanted.
But the duality in the UK, television bombards us with the life of the gutter in the UK, they show images of the places I grew up, the places of low opportunity. I walk the streets and hear the ignorance of people, how they can't do these things because of these things. I've had long conversations with Mitu about American attitude where this would never happen. Although that's a separate conversation for another time, she has a point, if there was even an inch of that in peoples soul here, then where would the British people be?
On the other hand, I realise the change, I walk the streets without issue, without fear of the police being on my back for the colour of my skin. My fathers stories of racist fights wasn't long ago although I can't remember them. They talk as if people have all gone to trash, but that isn't completely true, people are polite and for their ignorance they do mean well. I've yet to meet anyone starving even if my socialist vigour has almost been devoured. We as a country aren't the gutter trash that most people would expect if you really believed the daily mail.
But what's my point, it's as simple as saying things could be better, a lot better in fact, we as a people can over come as they Public Enemy might say. But then things aren't that bad here either, we just need to see the good things from all the ill reporting media.
On a different stroke, I started my blog more than two years ago, but this is just to say its been just over two years when I was sitting in one of the control rooms and I was writing a short article. At that moment I wondered a lot about what was going to happening in life, I could never have guessed. They keep saying that I would do a lot of maturing, a lot these things, a lot of those things. But the reality is something quite beautiful and stark. I thank my wonderful girlfriend for keeping me sober to see those things that happened and enjoying all the things we share.
Here's to another two years my beautiful eggs.
Threw my bad fortune
Off the top of
A tall building
I'd rather have done it with you
Your boy's smile
Five in the morning
Looked into your eyes
And I was really in love
In Chinatown
Hung over
You showed me
Just what I could do
Talking about
Time travel
And the meaning
Just what it was worth
And I feel like
Some bird of paradise
My bad fortune slipping away
And I feel the
Innocence of a child
Everybody's got something good to say
Things I once thought
Unbelievable
In my life
Have all taken place
When we walked through
Little Italy
I saw my reflection
Come right of your face
On some days while driving to work I imagine I let go of the wheel, placing my foot down as far as the accelerator pedal will go and see where life will take me. Sadly there are two outcomes of this; the first is the Bayrische Polizei peeling me off the side of the road smeared in a deep red. The second is as I start to swerve into uncontrollability, I snatch the wheel at the last moment before I hit another car and bring myself back out of it. My heart stopping for a few minutes while all the drivers around me shake their head.
If ever these thoughts creep into my mind, the rest of the day is filled with voyeuristic thoughts of Bob Dylan. Not voyeurism in the sense of stalking and wanting to know everything about him, it’s more wanting to understand why people obsess about him. These are just flights of fancy really, nothing coherent in a day where I shuffle from one moment to another without really thinking too hard. This is all a powerful solace: by means of it one gets through many a bad night.
Hope you are all well my beautiful eggs.
I want absolute beauty. I want this album to sing and fly and be full of reverb and lush layers of melody. I want it to be my beautiful, sumptuous, lovely piece of work."
Imagine a song, that really reached out and touched kids,
And not in a Daily Mail way, innocence corrupted,
But in a way where criticism remained constructive,
And wasn't too politicised and children weren't instructed,
To behave in a way that was unrealistic,
Or made out the way they live was somehow sick and twisted,
But simply pointed out reasons to get it together,
Not shouting "get a job", but just saying,
musik
- Logic Of Chance- Dan Le Sac Vs Scroobius Pip
- A Perfect Day Elise- PJ Harvey
- Sheela Na Gig- PJ Harvey
- Collision Course- JayZ vs Linkin Park
buch
verschiedenes
- safari curry,
- cordon ramsay,
- water melons,
- bbq pork belly,
- baked beans,
Two stories are swishing around in my head around, not really related but somewhere in my backward mind it seems to fit that this is something that would make sense. I thought about how lucky we are in this generation, we definitely are.
When I was about 21 my mother told me to look at my hands on one side, then turn it over and look at the other. I didn't notice anything apart from the dirt under my nails which I tried my best to hide. My mother showed me her hands, I mean she was only in her late forties, still looking quite youthful, actually both my parents still don't look their ages. But her hands were quite wrinkled, blotchy and looking of age, the years of working taking their toll. Since that day I started to notice the veins in my hand creeping around the back of my hands like some ivy left to over grow at an abandoned house, the blotches and the loss of elasticity of my skin.
'Enjoy the youth you have my son' she said, albeit in Chinese.
These are old words but I was recently rummaging around the house I find an old battered suitcase, it was torn at the side and wrapped in a wonderful reddish brown leather. Even from ten feet you can smell the mixture of mould and moisture of the years. For some reason I thought that because the suitcase looked liked something my parents had brought with them from the old world, I would be allowed to open it. I took a screwdriver to the lock and it pops open and out falls around a hundred photos. I see all the people in my family staring back at me, smiling knowingly as the camera snaps the pictures in black and white, sepia and faded colour. I see my father the same age as me young smartly dressed, boyish like I am now and handsome from the beginning. I see relatives who I have only ever known as old people looking back as happy as my father was in those days.
But what marks us out from our parents? For the senseless posting of random photos of our youth drinking and having a good time, for all the photos we have which we stare back smiling, there are hundreds if not thousands for each one of us and only in the last 5 or so years. We book mark our lives without realisation, without the thought of the future which could change or creep around the corner in the next few years. I wonder when I'm as old as my father, what my children will think when they open up a computer or a web-page with their parents staring back all beauty and youth.
Turn over your hands my beautiful eggs and enjoy the blemish free skin, it may not last but at least enjoy it long as possible.
You may tire of me as our December sun is setting
'Cause I'm not who I used to be
No longer easy on the eyes
These wrinkles masterfully disguise
The youthful boy below
who turned your way and saw
Something he was not looking for
Both a beginning and an end
musik
- You've Got The Love- Florence and the Machine
- Pow- Lethal Bizzle
- Remote Part/Scottish Fiction- Idlewild
- Holiday- Dizzee Rascal
- Summer Skin- Death Cab For Cutie
- Brothers On A Hotel Bed- Death Cab For Cutie
videospiele
- Metal Gear Solid- Peace Walker
- Every Extended Extra
buch
- The Great American Detox Diet- Alex Jamieson
- VMware vSphere 4- Scott Lowe
- Invincible Iron Man- Worlds Most Wanted
verschiedenes
- bbq sardines,
- putting Italia 90 away for another 4 years,
- my gf understanding it all and revenge her favourite player will get,
