I Will Not Be Missed

I’ve come to realise this and the thought of it scares me more than any phobia imaginable. I haven’t made any posts for a while and have had no e-mails or rush of concern and I can only further this by thinking that, if I died quite suddenly I would not be missed. Family and close friends would of course be sad to see me go and would miss me but in the grand scheme of things, I will not be missed. I’m going to put my best efforts and resources into changing this, as soon as possible.

Every Night The Same

I go to sleep, sometimes drunk, sometimes not. Every time in a bad mood, I reassure myself that when I wake up it will be a new day, I will have one more chance to have a good day and not be weighed down by any worries, troubles or concerns. Every time I lie to myself to keep me happy. Every morning is the same, I wake up neutral, not happy or unhappy but something will happen, at some point, to ruin this as opposed to make it better. There are only so many times I can repeat it before I run out of chances. Game Over. No more credits. Please Insert Coin(s). Something must be done about this.

Rant Begins…

Having a camera does not make you a photographer.

Having a guitar does not make you a guitarist.

Having your photo taken does not make you a model.

Having photoshop does not make you a graphic designer.

Having a TV appearance does not make you a celebrity.

Having a cock does not make you a real man.

Having a life does not mean you’re doing anything fucking worthwhile with it.

Rant over.

I Always Thought

Drugs and alcohol fuelled my creativity. I reasoned that if it was good enough for Hendrix then it was good enough for me but as i lay here at only five and a half hours away from a lecture I have not done an ounce of preparation for, I realise that it’s actually boredom. Boredom not because I have nothing to do, but a boredom of the real world. I’m fed up of university after a fortnight and not because I don’t want to do it, I really do, but because I know I’m meant for better things. Not to sound egotistical, but I really, really am.

There Were 722

Intentional homicides (Murders) in the United Kingdom in 2010. I would love to hear a genuine and sensible reason as to why every single one of these did not receive the days or even weeks, and in some cases years (Maddie McCann), of media coverage that some cases do. It make me sick to my stomache that the media actually pick and choose which cases get the most attention and as a direct result, the most resource put into being solved. Basically, unless you’re a little, middle-class, white girl you’re never going to be in the papers if someone kills you.

So, Let Me Get This Right

A band has just become ridiculously famous and apparently you have listened to them for years? I would love to hear the explanation you come up with as to why that makes you in any way better than fans of their music who simply hadn’t come into contact with it in the past. Go on, entertain me you stupid indie fuck.

I’ve Hit A Creative Drought…

So I thought I’d write about hitting a creative drought… I never actually sit there and think about what to write really, I just think about something and I’ll realise that it would be a good idea to share that with the world. I’ve been stupidly busy this past fortnight and haven’t had any of these great thoughts or realisations so I feel as though I’ve almost neglected this. It’s not my fault really, I’m just too busy but at the same time I have a huge ego and I can’t help but imagine that someone, somewhere is actually missing this pile of shit.