I don't worry about going grey; I'm forever going white with the vitiligo. It never depresses more than when I'm in a hot country and the rest of my skin usually gets burnt to buggery, such as now. It seems like every time I step in the shower I spot a new patch.
Plus, I am more convinced every day that the rings around my eyes are also caused by the vitiligo. Today, when shaving, I noticed that the entire ring of skin around my eyes is now discoloured- even the bit below my eyebrows. To say I feel sad about this is an understatement.
However, today I have also finally finished "Gulag: A History" by Anne Applebaum. To say I feel sad about the contents of this book is just downright wrong. The final chapter is about remembering the past, and it was like every single line in the book had not sunk in until that point.
I wanted to mention both these things together. I hope you can spot why.
Wednesday, 29 April 2009
Memorial Day
I bet you never though you'd see me scratching at air like an amputee. So what's left? I've got a head like a trainwreck. Who's keeping count of the casualties? Fatigue thrusts its jackhammer fists into my eyes, but I'm afraid to lie down. Afraid to slow down. Afraid to go home. (It's gonna catch up to me…) I'm tied in knots because of what I'm not and I can't share what I haven't got. So here's to the skinned knees and sutured hearts. Here's to the unhappy endings and all the false starts.
Tuesday, 28 April 2009
Never Going To Drink Again
Okay, so I know I have said this many, many times before, but hear me out. Yesterday I got up early to finally get fucking shut of my hired Seat Leon, or actually it may have been an Ibiza. I then took the (rather fantastic) train to Torremolinos to look for a job, and ended up drinking with a whole load of British people all over town, wondering what the hell to do. On one hand I was bored, and could not think of a fucking thing to do other than drink, but on the other, I could potentially be meeting a future employer. So I sipped, read, talked shit and had my ears filled with yet more shit. The aim was to stay sober until Tina's opened at 7pm, who had a "Staff Wanted" sign outside. The only place on the entire coast, it would seem.
However, when that time finally arrived, it became crystal clear that the people who worked there were complete posing pratts, and that the job would involve hanging on the street and begging people to dispense with their cash (and freedom of choice) in Tina's. So I sat down in Mulligan's Irish Bar (which was kind of rare, an Irish bar overseas) to watch the Newcastle game. Eventually I got talking to two lads, one from Newcastle and the other from Lichfield.
To cut a boring story short, I ended up not that drunk, sat outside a brothel in the freezing cold at 4:30am, listening to "Refusing To Be A Man" by Propagandhi and playing Klondike on my iPod whilst the two lads paid €70 to sit and talk to a naked girl. During this time, two living skeletons asked me to come inside, "out of the cold". It was at this point that I wondered what the fuck I was doing. I had spent the previous 2 hours in Lineker's bar, with the most killable bar team and D.J. of all time and a load of people trying to put their dicks in other people.
I never want to drink alcohol again. Over the past 2 weeks, I have been drinking every single day, and have gained lots of weight, lost lots of memories and puked up lots of guts. I am now 24, and am increasingly noticing the dumb way people act when drunk. I am a fan of conversation and focus. Maybe I can become a better person if I try to find fun AWAY from alcohol. Plus, I really would like to get fit.
The thing is, I like trying different beers and alcoholic beverages. I don't want to rule out drinking, but it's been proven that I simply can not drink just one or two, and sometimes this is enough to make me want to inject falafel into my veins
Besides, if I drink Pepsi or Coca-Cola, I feel like a twat every single time, even though I know me resisting those companies will not change the world. Soft drinks are too damned tasty, which is a problem. They wreck your insides and are gone within about 5 seconds. In my case anyway.
There's water, but come on. Just, come on.
Fruit juice is viable, but it feels like a cop-out. It reminds me that I only get my ALL-IMPORTANT five-a-day when I drink 6 litres of the stuff.
Coffee and tea are nice, but we all know they aren't a practical or healthy alternative.
Anyway, I must dash soon to find a local bar showing the Barca game where I won't be treated like Les Battersby trying to get into a billionaire's convention on an island in the Med constructed entirely out of poor people. Which probably means either hiking it way into Malaga, or putting up with the snobbery in the local bar.
It looks like I'm reaching for the beer again.
However, when that time finally arrived, it became crystal clear that the people who worked there were complete posing pratts, and that the job would involve hanging on the street and begging people to dispense with their cash (and freedom of choice) in Tina's. So I sat down in Mulligan's Irish Bar (which was kind of rare, an Irish bar overseas) to watch the Newcastle game. Eventually I got talking to two lads, one from Newcastle and the other from Lichfield.
To cut a boring story short, I ended up not that drunk, sat outside a brothel in the freezing cold at 4:30am, listening to "Refusing To Be A Man" by Propagandhi and playing Klondike on my iPod whilst the two lads paid €70 to sit and talk to a naked girl. During this time, two living skeletons asked me to come inside, "out of the cold". It was at this point that I wondered what the fuck I was doing. I had spent the previous 2 hours in Lineker's bar, with the most killable bar team and D.J. of all time and a load of people trying to put their dicks in other people.
I never want to drink alcohol again. Over the past 2 weeks, I have been drinking every single day, and have gained lots of weight, lost lots of memories and puked up lots of guts. I am now 24, and am increasingly noticing the dumb way people act when drunk. I am a fan of conversation and focus. Maybe I can become a better person if I try to find fun AWAY from alcohol. Plus, I really would like to get fit.
The thing is, I like trying different beers and alcoholic beverages. I don't want to rule out drinking, but it's been proven that I simply can not drink just one or two, and sometimes this is enough to make me want to inject falafel into my veins
Besides, if I drink Pepsi or Coca-Cola, I feel like a twat every single time, even though I know me resisting those companies will not change the world. Soft drinks are too damned tasty, which is a problem. They wreck your insides and are gone within about 5 seconds. In my case anyway.
There's water, but come on. Just, come on.
Fruit juice is viable, but it feels like a cop-out. It reminds me that I only get my ALL-IMPORTANT five-a-day when I drink 6 litres of the stuff.
Coffee and tea are nice, but we all know they aren't a practical or healthy alternative.
Anyway, I must dash soon to find a local bar showing the Barca game where I won't be treated like Les Battersby trying to get into a billionaire's convention on an island in the Med constructed entirely out of poor people. Which probably means either hiking it way into Malaga, or putting up with the snobbery in the local bar.
It looks like I'm reaching for the beer again.
Monday, 27 April 2009
Farts Are Jazz To Assholes
Okay, so too long has passed. Mainly because every time I can't be arsed to blog something I think could be interesting, I end up having a imaginary pile of writing that keeps increasing, so I ignore it. Fuck it.
All that needs to be said that New York was fucking ace, and Spain is in the process of being fucking ace. I am drunk right now, so I will refrain from typing any of my recent thoughts. It appears I may have to be careful from now on.
But rest assured, I will be more drunk later on. Anyway, to give this blog a general theme, can I just say that I hired a car in Malaga, and I honestly don't know if I'm in any fit state to drive ever again.
All that needs to be said that New York was fucking ace, and Spain is in the process of being fucking ace. I am drunk right now, so I will refrain from typing any of my recent thoughts. It appears I may have to be careful from now on.
But rest assured, I will be more drunk later on. Anyway, to give this blog a general theme, can I just say that I hired a car in Malaga, and I honestly don't know if I'm in any fit state to drive ever again.
Monday, 30 March 2009
No Way Back
Ok, I'll say a little more post-Wednesday, but I just wanted to mark today with a little note. These last couple of months have been nothing short of amazing. Apart from the work aspect. With that now gone, I can't wait to make up for lost time! Besides, it's nice to have my dignity back.
Still feeling lost being back home with my feet on the ground. Time to get out there!
Note: Not sacked. Still employed. Totally shocked! This mostly still applies.
Still feeling lost being back home with my feet on the ground. Time to get out there!
Note: Not sacked. Still employed. Totally shocked! This mostly still applies.
Thursday, 19 March 2009
Wednesday, 11 February 2009
Your Kung-Fu Is Old...Now You Must Die!
How is it that people think it's cool to openly criticise me on such trivial things? A particular one that annoys me is "woah... you need a shave!". Do I respond and go "woah... you need to lose weight!"? No, this is rude.
It's the same at football. I am repeatedly told my passes are shite, I should have been goal-side or that I could have made that ball. Yeah, all those are probably true. I'm just not interested in other people's opinion on my footballing skills, or lack of. I could hand these people a guitar and rip the shit out of their shitty attempts to play it.
Come to think about it, they could probably do the same to me.
It's the same at football. I am repeatedly told my passes are shite, I should have been goal-side or that I could have made that ball. Yeah, all those are probably true. I'm just not interested in other people's opinion on my footballing skills, or lack of. I could hand these people a guitar and rip the shit out of their shitty attempts to play it.
Come to think about it, they could probably do the same to me.
Thursday, 5 February 2009
Go Back To The Gym
Ok so yesterday was my first session at Hard Labour gym with the Cannon. Totally embarrassing.
My arms are going to drop off.
My arms are going to drop off.
Monday, 2 February 2009
Thursday, 29 January 2009
Brand New Day
May this be the day that I finally fuck those off who piss me off each and every day.
Signed,
No balls
Signed,
No balls
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)