| I really should know better than to post on here when I'm half asleep and half drunk (allegedly) but MNEH!
(I'll just have to worry about the grammar and spelling corrections in the morning and you can always just skip it if you find me rambling.)
It's been a hard week, in so many ways, and while this may be a long post it could be a lot longer and so is probably better that I'm tired and have quaffed much whiskeye as it means that I cannot be bothered with all the ins and outs...
Lizzy's Dad died on Thursday. Lung cancer, spread to his spine and into his brain. He was fine only six weeks ago with no clue as to there being something wrong. I promised her he'd be alright. I know better than to make promises I can't keep. We've had problems with family, the will, the gran, the partner, I don't have the memory or the capacity in anything else to relay to you what's been going on, all I can say is that it is pathetic for 'adults' to behave in such a way. All of this is more draining than Robert dying, Lizzy just wants her Dad back.
I feel awful because, while I'm fully supporting Lizzy, I still think momentarily on how I'm being affected. I had cancer when I was 4, and lived obviously. Now, however, whenever someone dies of cancer or just dies young, I feel this tremendous guilt, I feel responsible, even when I think I know that really I'm not. The way I see it, Lizzy could have any number of partners or lovers or relationships, whether they're worse or better than me is irrelevent, but she'll only ever have one father, and shit I wish with everything that I could trade places with him for her.
It still seems so surreal. Only a three weeks ago I asked him for Lizzy's hand in marriage, on Tuesday he was able to move and smile to some degree, on Friday I was looking at a cold body that looked like him, and yet didn't, where on the one hand I could still imagine him as the father of the girl I love, see him talking to us, and yet another part of me, the little part that found him unidentifiable, thought he may as well have been burgers.
The image still haunts me.
I don't undertsand why the world is so full of unjustices, whether it be through people, nature, or this whole 'god' imaginary friend fetish that around 90% of the world seem to have going on. I feel tired, achey, ill, I don't feel I can work, but with a flat and bills I have no choice, and I still have to keep telling Lizzy I'm fine because, after all, he's her father, and if this is taking all of this out of me, well, imagine how she must feel.
As if appetite and sleeping patterns weren't already estranged and erratic, my dreams when I do sleep frightening and difficult to describe, I really do feel like I've had enough.
I worry about Lizzy. Not only because of the passing of her father and how she will take it, but more because of how her family are making matters worse. I know I can open my mouth and put my foot in it, but fucking hell people really need to learn when to shut up... | comments: Leave a comment   |
| | Time: | 05:42 pm | | Current Mood: | ![[mood icon]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/mood/mely/lemonfaces/mad.gif) Pissy |
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| Quick follow up.
Went to the doctors. To be honest, if Penfold had a bad bedside manner it would be an improvement. She doesn't have one, doesn't make you feel any better. From the moment I went in she acted like I was wasting her time and there was nothing wrong. She's the sort where you need your arm hanging off spurting blood everywhere and she will ask what's wrong with you. A shotgun wound would be a mosquito bite. it's all nothing and not worth her attention. Come to think of it, I had a doctor like her years ago, about 18 years ago. Thought there was nothing wrong with me, thought mum was just a worrying first time mother, turned out I had cancer. Turns out he had a heart attack.
Bottom line, it's a viral infection. They're not going to test me unless I get worse and start developing rashes. Job Advertisement would go something as follows:
Swine Flu Testing:
Rashes and signs of deteoration are essential. The ability to prove that you have been travelling, know someone who has been to Mexico or someone already diagnosed with Swine Flu desirable but not essential, although experience in these areas a distinct advantage.
Upon applying for this position you shall have three screening processes where you must be willing to constantly repeat and justify yourself, deteorating along the way whilst picking up stronger abilities to prove yourself.
No need to phone, send in a CV or complete an application form.
We're not going to bother with you anyway and your final screening interview shall last all of about 40 seconds.
A little extreme I'll admit. To be honest if she says there's next to no chance that I have swine flu and I'm all ok to travel and have my driving test then that's fine. If they don't let me travel next Saturday because of any existing symptoms I'll just talk to a solicitor about malpractice. After her manner I feel like doing that anyway.
To be honest, no, I don't believe I have swine flu but I did feel the need to get myself checked out. I'm just feeling pissy because I feel like I've wasted a day lying about in bed not quite sleeping and I've done nothing productive. Oh, and Lizzy came over briefly and then because of illnesseseses wouldn't kiss me. Can't blame her. I wouldn't kiss me.
BLAAAAAAAHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
P.S. Upon reading Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy again, I can't help thinking that perhaps the Vogans were not based on your average County Council or the British Post Office after all, but in fact on the NHS...
| | comments: Leave a comment |
| | Tags: | ill, nhs, swine flu | | Current Music: | None, nise doesn't make my ears feel good. | | Current Location: | Bedroom | | Time: | 09:08 am | | Current Mood: | grumpy |
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| So guess what?
It's 9 am, I'm awake, out of bed, dressed, and not working. "But oh Bobby WHY!?" I hear you all inaudibly scream. Or probably not, as few people choose to read this anyway and those that do probably wouldn't be thinking that, certainly not those exact words, but really that is all besides the point. (Apologies, I have been reading Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy again which aways puts me in odd frames of mind in my writing and sends me off on 'random' tangents.)
I am supposed to be working today. I have been up since 6 am. Again, WHY!? short answer, SFS, an abbreviation of Swine Flu Scare. Superbuous. I haven't been feeling great since Sunday, much worse Monday, (manager passed out at the doctors during a blood test and was told to take the rest of the day off, didn't help matters I assure you.) Tuesday, (yesterday) I more or less sent myself home early, allbeit by an hour and a half. Lights too bright, feeling wobbly, fever, so on and so forth. Found it hard to eat, all day, went to bed around 10, still awake at 11, legs sweating. Huh? Got up, rest of me sweating. Double Huh? I mean come on how do you not notice that!? I was laying down feeling like I was going to pass out, an not the good kind, i.e. sleep, but the spinning scary kind. Maybe that's how. In which case how I recognised my legs sweating and not the rest of me, or even my legs sweating at all, puzzled by. Went down stairs, interesting exchange with my dad...
Me: I don't feel too good, feel like I'm going to pass out.
Dad: Okay, shut the door behind you when you come up.
Sorry, did I miss something here?
Sandwich. A few minutes later I was shivering, goosebumps, hair standing on end, whole shi-bang. Watched family guy, must have been ill, the thing's a sack of shite if you want my honest opinion. (It's a rarity when anyone does.) Anyway, woke up this morning, actually felt worse. Wrote down all my symptoms and rang out NHS direct to know wether to worry, see a doctor, or choke down as many paracetemol caplets as possible without killing myself and not go into work today. Their verdict: worry a little, see a doctor. Phoned up doctors at 8 am, waited to get through, got through. Result. Talk about Spanish inquisition. I know there's probably a lot of people panicking and the hypocondriacs must be turning out like star wars fans following the annoucenment of a seventh Star Wars film (heaven forbid) but... exchange roughly as follows.
Nurse on Phone Desk at Doctors' Surgery: Hello?
Me: Hi, phoned NHS direct this morning, gave them a list of symptoms, told me to make appointment and get tested for this swine thing.
NPDDS: Been to Mexico lately?
Me: No.
NPDDS: Come into contact with anyone from Mexico or California? (California? New one...)
Me: Couldn't tell you to be honest, I work in a shop, I come into contact with between 50 and 400 people a day.
NPDDS: This symptom?
Me: Yes.
NPDDS: This symptom?
Me: Yes
NPDDS: This symptom?
Me: A bit.
NPDDS: This symptom?
Me: No.
NPDDS: Please hold.
-- Holding, holding, ouch. --
NPDDS: Hello?
Me: Hi.
NPDDS: Made you an emergency appointment, Dr Penfold, 10:30.
Me: Ok. Do I just go straight in? Wait in waiting room?
NPDDS: To be honest, you haven't been to Mexico, we're not screening everyone. etc.
Me: Just making sure, NHS Direct said to check.
NPDDS: No, *sigh* should all be fne.
Me: OK, thanks, bye, etc.
To be honest, I had already justified myself enough to the NHS helpline people for them to say "make an emergency appointment, get yourself checked out." I don't see why she couldn't have been a little more friendlier if nothing else.
To be honest, it had better not be Swine Flu. Driving Test next Wednesday, Prague next Saturday for Lizzy's birthday.
To be honest, FUCK.
I hate being ill, I get bored and pissy. Now what do I do with my day? | | comments: 1 comment or Leave a comment |
| I am not going to Download this year, wanna know why.
IT WILL SUCK!!!
Mark my words...
It is now February, we have only just had the second headliner announced with the third no where in sight. By this time last year a majority of the main bands were announced, and all three headliners were part of the first announcement package. There is still no official '09 website either, which just spells these people out as the epitomy of organisation. Also, despite the credit crunch, prices have been put up AGAIN! £160 just for camping and arena tickets. Then of course there is food, drink, shopping, oh, and getting there.
Then there are the bands...
'Cross-Over' bands, for a start, are generally a bad idea. Seriously, if My Chemical Romance got bottled before, why on earth did they put Lethal Bizzle/Drizzle/Lizzle/whatever up there last year? Admittedly, Pendulum provoked an interesting reaction from the crowd by being, well, packed, last year, but again? Then there are the Prodigy and Limp Bizkit (it's all in the name folks) added to this years list, and in my view yet more proof that there is no god, and that if there is I must have been one fucking nasty arsehole in my previous life and I'm being punished for it now.
Other bands such as Def Leppard and WhiteSnake, while good, echo last year's attempt at dragging in the veterans (and I mean this in broadest terms) with Judas Priest, who ditched their frames and canes and could be caught leaning on instruments and props instead. I would have mentioned KISS with Judas Priest, but why bother? They weren't as great as you would hope, or expect, or even fear. They had some stage presence but the songs had a long way to go when the band ironically don't. Dire. I did not pay to watch Jean Simmons' tongue fly around on a trapeze surrounded by pyrotechnics for fucksake.
On the other hand this year presents die hards such as Korn and Slipknot, who to be honest were on the scene before I was. They're not getting old, but they're hardly getting better and I can't see why they can't call it a day and make way for new material. We get it, you eat spikes and babies and babies on spikes and spikes on babies, my mother was a bleeding whore and i should rape my own arse on at least a semi-regular basis because it sounds like a great way to pass the time, but frankly I don't care.
To sum up, we're going to hang out with some hippies and pagans at Stonehenge that weekend. It's cheaper, and much better value for money...
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| So, after finally finding a poetry contest that I can enter I have fallen upon one slight problem.
The rules for this contest dictate that a poem must be no longer than 24 lines long.
After sifting through over 60 of my poems and lyrics, some being only half finished and some that need some serious editing, I have found only about 3 finished pieces that meet this criteria, and while the one I've ended up submitting isn't too shoddy, it's not what I'd call me best either.
I am under the impression that some of my work may just be the slightest bit too long...
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| Just out of interest...
How are everyone's New Years resolutions going so far this year?
I purposefully didn't make any this year because I broke most of last year's (you can't break what isn't there right?) and I'm not sure what goals I can set myself that I'm probably going to do anyway...
I quit smoking within the last year, I eat (fairly) healthily, I don't have time to go to the gym, I've already started driving and chances are with the amount of hours I've already racked up I'm going to have passed anyway. Likewise I can't really set a resolution of "continuing my degree." Really it's just going to be a backwards acheivement if I don't. Really a lot of the stuff I want to do/get done is down to money, time, people, or some combination. :\
Methinks this year could be an interesting one... | | comments: Leave a comment |
| Hey Guys,
I know not many of you read my journal and even fewer of you comment but anything, ANYTHING, from this would be great.
Is it okay to be a guy and to feel sort of, well, 'broody'?
I don't know if it's the capricorn in me or if I'm just looking for an excuse but I've always had this paternal streak and lately, despite the large amount of things on my mind, I keep gettng really strong thoughts and feelings about being a father. Sheesh I'm not even married, and I know that isn't going to happen for a couple of years.
I guess maybe I'm feeling just a little left behind sometimes. All of the people I went to school with are either duffed up chavs or they've got degrees as well as looking at jobs, houses, marriages, families, you name it... Look at me. I started a degree (with the Open University, hardly prestigious) the term after most of them finished. I just scraped through college. I don't hold jobs for very long and the one I've got now fits around my life but could be better. I'm only learning to drive, let alone owning a car...
I've been with Lizzy 8 months on Friday but she's still only 19. Few people think about the stuff I'm thinking about at my age, let alone hers. It could go the distance, but not just yet, and I don't have the means to get there yet either. I just feel that in terms of how I think and my maturity and the type of person I am, I'm so ready to be married and starting a family right now, even though I'm only 22. It's not the independence anymore, it's more than that.
Yeah.
Fuck.
Maybe with studying, relationship, working, writing poetry and scripts, producing a short film, music, so on and so forth, maybe I'm just over-compensating for something...? | | comments: Leave a comment |
| I had one of the most bizzarre dreams I've had for a while last night. (For that matter I had one of the first dreams I remember having in a while last night.)
It was nearly ten o'clock at night and the doorbell went. I didn't think my parents were going to open it at first, but then I said it could be police or something and on switching the front door light on they let four middle aged guys in. They all looked similar, rough around the edges, grey hair, some long, some with an Obi-Wan Kenobi braid, the odd scrappy denim waistcoat, you get the picture. The grey-blue type of filthy instead of the brown.
Anyway, turns out they were semi-religious nuts. They all walked in with this one book, handing it to us and talking about something. Turns out they worshipped the characters in Watership Down. Not the original book so much, nor the animated movie, but the television cartoon. Only in my dream it was a different, more shoddy cartoon version. They said they believed in peacefulness and calm, but I managed to get them all angry very quickly, proving in the process what a load of rubbish it all was. Mum wasn't pleased and went on about how I'm always denouncing religion and christianity and then accused me of being jealous because I didn't create the universe but wish that I had thought of it first. I had a rant about how they were worshipping a book originally written by a father for his two daughters, originally told on a long car journey, about rabbits.
Well the Watership Down Worshippers started to leave and I felt a bit guilty so I decided to try and catch one on my way out and make 'peace.' However, on my way through the living room I noticed Lizzy was on the sofa with a friend of hers called Sarag who she hasn't even spoken to in a year and what was persumably Sarah's boyfriend. No sooner had I noticed this did my phone ring. It was Sarah's father or stepfather or someone saying that someone would be over at 6:30 to pick her up. I argued with the point that it was nearly 10:30 and was told that it was the same thing. I had a bit of a moan at the guy who then said it sounded like I was having a hard time and need a gin and tonic.
+.+
Those are the basics or what I remember, and my head felt kind of weird when I woke up. Dreams are weird, and that is nowhere near the strangest one I've had.
P.S. I did not type the '+.+,' my cat did, but it was so cool and cute that I have decided to leave it there. | | comments: Leave a comment |
| | Subject: | Blurb | | Time: | 08:03 pm |
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| I'm currently looking at assignments 2 and 3 for my Open University Degree and while, at times, they actually sound quite simple they bloody baffle me and I still can't get my head around them! My first assignment went rather well, I think, at least I seem to have done better than a few people I have encountered on the forums, but I have to wonder if it's going to be all down hill from here. I can probably pass easily enough, but I don't want to "just scrape through," I want to fly over and through the finishing line when these few years are over.
Work, once again, is messing me around left right and centre. I'm a 'Shift Manager' or in other words a glorified supervisor, and yet for £5.98 p/h I'm doing the managers' jobs and know more than the Deputy Manager altogether. I'm constantly doing favours, which don't get me wrong I don't mind, likewise with the OU work I don't want to do just what's required, I want to excel, but being walked over is the reason I left my last job. To make matters worse the manager (who is also supposed to be a friend of mine but fucked me over with preparations for my 21st last year) is trying to make me work on my birthday, one thing I just don't do. The last couple of months he's said he's letting me have it off so I've made plans, Lizzy's bent over backwards at her work to get the day off for me, etc, and, first Saturday after Christmas, he's making me do a full 9 - 5:30 when I'm also taking care of the Sunday by myself. On my last shift after confronting him about it I just walked out saying "I'm not doing it."
Home's stressful as usual, although hopefully not for much longer. My room and the landing/hall are being redecorated, something which has been put off for months meaning I've been sleeping on an air bed for the last three months now. Understandably, my mood is a little worse for wear but with work and Uni work to do it's not like I can really spend a night anywhere else. Well, hopefully this time next week the carpet will be down, the bed and mattress in, the open wrought-iron wardrobe assembled and I will be able to order my desk and sort stuff out there, allbeit five days before Christmas... Fun.
In other news Lizzy and I have been together over seven months now and I haven't fucked it up yet. In fact, we're still getting along great and things haven't really changed much since we got together. I am also updating from my shiny new laptop. It's not top spec or anything, and it's put me into my overdraft more than I'd have liked, but I get paid in less than a week. Besides, it does the jobs I bought it for, is fast enough, smart enough, and I'm perfectly happy with it.
Right, well I'm going to go and see if I can't make at least a feeble start on an assignment involving the Dalai Lama. I doubt I'll update again before the New Year as it's going to be a rather busy couple of weeks so have a drink on me, make it a good one, and I hope to catch up with everyone soon. (By soon, my course ends in May, I'll need to work through the Summer but y'never know with this current economic lark.)
Ta - Ra!
Disclaimer: By "...have a drink on me" I do not mean to say that I intend to buy you a drink, only that at this time of year I will let you rest one on my back, stomach, chest, legs, etc as a gesture of goodwill if, and only if, you are without another device on which to rest your beverage such as a bar, stool, barstool, chair, table, etc. If you do decide to "...have a drink on me" it is at your own risk and I cannot be held responsible for beverages wrongfully consumed. Merry Christmas.
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| I don't care if people read this or not, if it's rubbish or not or even if it's wrong. To be honest, it's probably the latter, but I don't care, I just need to get it out of my head somehow before it drives me insane.
First of all, yes, I've read a bit on t'interweb, or on what little I could concentrate on.
To be honest the Speed of Gravity could be a range of things, and it could be one of them, all or none. There's the speed things move it within a gravitational field, there's the speed at which they fall which isn't so different and which, indeed, is one thing that I was thinking on which introduced the whole concept of the speed of gravity into my head, something I've since found I'm not the first person to fall into the concept of.
There is also gravitational pull on planets, this can affect orbit, there's the pull of gravity itself thus affecting the speed of moving and falling. Shamefully there are few ways to test this and develop a theory with the current lack of space travel readily available. Looking at something along the lines of (speed multiplied by weight) over distance. There is of course also momentum to consider and whilst I may be a philosopher at times I am, happy to say, not a scientist.
The discovery of the speed or gravity or even a theory relating to it could have many different effects on different elements and factors. The speed we travel for example, even the way we travel, planetary alignment and orbit, it's something that could be useful when considering the exploration of or even the inhabitation of neighbouring worlds. There is also of course ever the chance of finding a way to travel through time depending on breaking the laws of the speed of gravity if you were to break them. The speed of light may or may not still play a part in this concept but it has already been proved that light is affected by gravity anyway, thus the speed of light could be controlled or manipulated by the force of gravity or even vice versa causing a rift and a way of travelling through time.
N.B. This is a late night theory suffering under tiredness and stress, which may even be the only reason it exists. It is conceptual, and while I may take credit for any work it transpires into or aids I do not seek to prove nor disprove at this moment in time and so take no responsibility or blame if it is in fact a lot of overblown bullshit. | | comments: Leave a comment |
| Right, so here's the deal...
I've been approached by a band to design some album artwork for them, aside from them being rather vague I have however still got a couple of ideas, but this isn't (currently) the problem.
First off, I have no idea how much to charge them, although I think I have a rough idea at the moment.
The BIG issue here is art licensing. I've been told that, when I've finished the design, I need to go off and get a license for my artwork. Can anyone here give me any pointers because I'm sorta bamboozled...
I've tried Google but it keeps coming up with American peoples and asks for portfolios and all that. Bugrit, I just want to get a single piece of artwork (that I already have a buyer for) licensed!
Has anyone any bright ideas?
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| *Grumble grumble*
Right now...
Tired.
Agitated.
I suck at driving.
Work just sucks, although wouldn't if the manager and his little jewellery expert/fuck buddy were just to piss off.
Garr....!
Really just don't care and can't be bothered at the minute.
And I don't want to be all pissy again when Lizzy comes round in a bit but it looks like I'm going to be.
BUGRIT!
Give me money?
| | comments: Leave a comment |
| | Subject: | Loss | | Time: | 10:51 am |
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| The baby bunny's dead.
This post may seem petty to some people, but fuck off, I need to get it out of my system. It's not like anyone will read this anyway, this will be pushed down to the bottom of everyone's 'flists' talking about films, game, role playing, fan fiction and other rants, both sincere and not so much.
I never thought I'd ever wind up being upset about another rabbit dying again. We've had so many over the years, and still have a stupid amount, but when this one died I felt something different. I've never quite acted like I did when something or someone has died before as I did last night. It sounds daft but I almost feel like I've lost a child. Obviously I realise in reality it doesn't come close, but it's still a loss you can't begin to comprehend until you've been there.
I suppose Dusty just wasn't meant to be in the end. The runt of a litter of five Dusty was rejected by her mother, had fallen from the top of the two tier hutch a number of times, and suffered from wry neck. When we didn't think she was faring so good we nearly had her shot, but I decided to take her in and see how things went. I had her with me in my room, had her sit with me while I read and watched television. For a week feeding her milk from a syringe would be the first thing I did when I woke up and the last thing I did before I went to bed at night. She got used to us quickly and developed an amazing character. She would constantly lick us, climb on us and ask for attention when you walked past her box. She loved being picked up and would even let you pick her up and turn her on her back.
I was there the first time she was eating solid food, when she climbed out of her box the first time, the times she escaped. On one occasion I was even woken up by her licking my toes.
Then last night I went to clean her out. No one had bothered while I had been away with work. There was no where to put her so we decided to let her run around the kitchen. Not for the first time either, this happened regularly over the last few weeks. She had been running around for a few hours. After this time I needed to feed the dog. Dusty was by my feet in the kitchen, the dog and his food were in the utility room. I got him to sit down, beg, and told him to eat before going to rinse the tin out.
Next thing I heard was a sort of bark mixed with something else. Something had happened. I rushed through to the doorway to see dusty laying on the floor, looking up at me, still trying to run on her side. I screamed. A sound came out of my mouth then that has never before escaped, and still I felt I was holding back. I stared down in horror and disbelief, Dusty wasn't getting up. A small amount of blood escaped the little black rabbit's side, just a small puddle at first. I screamed again, something half forming the word 'no' but not quite getting there. More and more blood flowed out as the little girl struggled to run from the pain, smearing the blood over the linoleum. I ran upstairs to where mum was hoovering and shouted "Rabbit! Dog!"
"What?" She asked, stopping the vacuum.
"Rabbit! Dog!" I screamed again. Or at least I tried to.
We ran back down stairs to the utility room. The rabbit was still trying to move but not like she had before.
"Phone you father."
I phoned dad, screaming down the phone for him to come back, trying to use my mind and form some form of sentence. I couldn't understand myself, or anyone else, I couldn't expect anyone to understand me. Then mum spoke.
"I'm sorry Bobby. She's gone."
It took a while for tears to run. I was horrified, in shock, I couldn't get my head round it. I felt sick. I sat on the sofa screaming, still haunted by the sight of the rabbit I had devoted so much love and care for writhing in its blood on the floor. When the tears started I couldn't get them to stop. I felt numb. Cold air on my face was nothing, my arms and hands felt weak. I had failed her. A torrent of thoughts, regrets and alternative scenarios flooded into my mind. I should have held the rabbit as I fed the dog, it had been cleaned out, she should have gone back in her box, if mum hadn't been cleaning she would have been there to keep an eye on it, if dad had been in the house he would have been sat on the sofa watching television with Dusty sat on his stomach, stroking her. I've always tried to tell myself and other people that everything happens for a reason, but in reality I still can't see it.
Dusty suffered unnecessarily in her short life, and too many times. It just isn't right or fair. Now I feel it was worse I gave her the second chances, it was more to be taken away in the end. I failed her. | | comments: 1 comment or Leave a comment |
| Unless you have been living in a cave for the last two weeks then I'm sure that at some point you have come across the phrase "One World; One Dream." I refer of course to the motto of the Olympic Games 2008, held in Beijing, China; but what does it mean exactly?
The Olympic website chooses to describe it as "...the essence and the universal values of the Olympic spirit -- Unity, Friendship, Progress, Harmony, Participation and Dream. It expresses the common wishes of people all over the world, inspired by the Olympic ideals, to strive for a bright future of Mankind."
But what is this common dream? Look at the important words again, "...universal...unity, friendship, progress, harmony, participation..." everyone together "...to strive for a bright future of Mankind." In brief, everyone working together to achieve peace. Peace! In a world like today it is hard to find the meaning of this, even as the games went on in happiness under the ever watchful eye of, well, the world, our own troops still battle in Afghanistan, Russia continues to fight in Georgia and war still terrorises us on our own streets. In a world wanting peace we still live in fear. But I ask you this, if the whole world wants peace, if it's something everyone wants, then why aren't we achieving it?
All it needs really is for everyone to just stop and say "no, enough." We get told it isn't that simple, but it is. Start small if need be, refuse to hit someone when they frustrate you, take deep breaths when you get angry, stop carrying a knife in your pocket for 'safety.' It's the common people that fight, people like you, and people like me, our brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers, sons, daughters, uncles, aunts, cousins, friends and neighbours. We get ordered to fight by those in charge, but they don't do the fighting. Can you imagine George W. Bush or Gordon Brown sitting in a dusty trench or patrolling streets littered with mines and bodies? I thought as much. If all of us 'little people' say no, everywhere, then that's it, what then? If the politicians want to get into a scrap with each other then that's fine by me.
Why are our troops still out everywhere else fighting someone else's battles? I'm not saying "don't care about the rest of the world" or anything, but by sticking our noses in we have made things so much worse, no matter what the top dogs claim. Sure, it's getting better now, but only after we've made it worse by interfering. If they want to fight, let them fight, it's their problem. We've got our own. There are a couple of sayings, "charity starts at home" and "look after the pennies and the pounds will look after themselves." Of course, both apt for the recession we're being plunged into, which might I also note here has been made worse my our meddling with the affairs of other countries. We have our own issues in our country that need sorting out: housing, unemployment, drugs, street crime, to name just a few of the main everyday issues. I could carry on, but we've heard it all before, we all know it, but we refuse to act, or sometimes not to act. Don't believe that you can't act for something by acting against something else. Start off small, and the bigger picture will come together.
Please, take the last month in China and the rest of the world as an example, stop fighting, at home or away, stop signing up, stop taking orders to kill. Stop acting mindlessly. I'm fed up with opening the paper and reading that yet another person has become a victim of street crime; being beaten to death just for being asked by a cigarette for example. This has to end now, not tomorrow, not next week, not "just after I've done this spot of hoovering and finished my tea." Do it today. Why put peace off when violence is something that affects all of our lives? Next week we will carry on as if the games hadn't happened and that poignant motto that means so much will be tucked away in our waste paper baskets.
If you find you don't like someone, or you can't get along with them, then ignore them; walk right on by. Just stop fighting. It really is that simple.
By all means feel free to forward this on, translate it, send it via post or e-mail and help to get the message out there. | | comments: Leave a comment |
| I'm fed up with 'the system' at the minute...
Lizzy told me earlier that her mum's first house only cost £3,000. £3k!!! fucksake you can't even buy a bike for that lately it seems. I know they were on less money then but comparitively... well... let's just say the cost of living now is a lot worse. It annoys me when you get old people saying how us young folk don't know how lucky we are, well FUCK YOU! These people obviously have no idea, at least they knew how they were going to spend the rest of their lives, they didn't have a constant stream of immigrants coming in etc...
Now while I'll admit it's unfair to say that all of our problems are caused by immigrants I think I'm right in saying that it would help relieve some of the strain and pressure. The other day I went to the local shop and picked up a Cornetto ice cream that was in both English AND Polish. THIS IS NOT POLAND! When in Rome do as the fucking Romans do...
I want my own place again. When I think about it, despite my housemates being some of the biggest wankstains I have ever had the severe misfortune of meeting, I actually did alright. I got up, put the kettle on, had a coffee, did some writing... I ate three meals a day, I kept on top of my washing and my washing up and even, at times, everyone else's. I was healthier, organised, structured. I knew what money was going out, I knew what bills needed paying and how and when. At my parents' it's just mess everywhere and I know fuck all. They're certainly not the best examples where money's concerned. Or tidiness.
But how on earth can I afford a place?
I'm currently unemployed for a start and jobs aren't easy to come by. Maybe I should have stayed at Vue until another job came along but in fairness I never had the time to go jobhunting when I was there and the money wasn't enough for even half a person to live on most of the time even if you did work your hump off 24/7 like myself and others.
Sure, houseprices are going down but they're still not going to be affordable for at least another five years. Not to mention of course that because they're still going down mortgage providers aren't paying out.
I'll tell you who do get the houses though... Immigrants and pregnant fifteen year old chavs. Now I hate to generalise and stereotype and everything BUT... it's true! These stereotypes are about because they are based on truth!
I want a life. I want a place. I want to have enough money to learn to drive and then to get a car. I want a holiday. I NEED a holiday. I need to get enough money to pay off this debt the government have suddenly landed me with for overpaying my benefits and I need money for this Open University course so that I can at least become a teacher if all else fails.
Lets just hope the lottery ticket I bought tonight is worth something this time tomorrow.
Then I can buy me and Lizzy our dream gothic mansion, a nice car each, pay for uni, go to Prague and Japan, and relax.
Other than the above, things are actually great.
I guess things can't all go smoothly all of the time, it would just be nice if once in a while they did. | | comments: Leave a comment |
| Okay, I'm going to unleash the nerd inside of me for just a few minutes.
DOCTOR WHO! DOCTOR FUCKING WHO?!?!
Tonight he begins to regenerate!?
I mean talk about a cliff hanger...
I understand we can't have David Tenant forever but we had Tom Baker for 10 years! I'd be fine with having David Tenant for 10 years! Then maybe I can step in... Anyway!
Awesome episode, some great ideas although possibly too many old faces to be honest. But the Doctor regenerating after being half shot by a random Dalek? And yes, if you look he was half shot. And now he regenerates...? Now? But why?
Look at everything else; he's kept his skin, survived against millions of other Daleks, Cybermen, avoided being shot by a hundred other races and I'm sure we all remember how he managed to come back after the Master became the grand supreme leader whassamajig! Shot by a Dalek!?
Then of course there's the matter of this cliffhanger... Martha's gone home, Sarah-Jane was driving to lord only knows where until yet more Daleks pulled her over not to mention they've invaded Torchwood while Jack and Rose have both managed to teleport to the same spot at the same time, they're now inside the TARDIS with Donna and... well... a regenerating Doctor... and that's where they leave us!?
The main point I guess is now going to be on everyone's mind for the next week is who? Who will be the next Doctor? Try as I might I've had no luck on the net despite my best attempts even on wikipedia and imdb...
Can I really wait that long for the next Doctor Who?
Guess I'll just have to tell the nerd in me to sod off for a bit, be the rest of me and hope that time goes quick over the next week... | | comments: Leave a comment |
| | Subject: | Jobbage | | Time: | 10:51 pm | | Current Mood: | ![[mood icon]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/mood/mely/lemonfaces/sunglasses.gif) pleased |
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| Ever noticed how the 'word' jobbage is like the word cabbage?
Anywhoooo...
I handed in my notice at Vue. Feeling good about it. Not going to go into details.
Got offered an interview at Bright House today. Not at the top of the list of jobs I've applied for so far, but it's a start.
Things with Lizzy are going really REALLY well, for one thing it's been six, nearly seven, weeks and things haven't started to fall apart yet, in fact we're going really strong, IN FACT things haven't changed at all since we started going out. I really do love her to bits, and it feels so easy saying that which I'm surprised at. I haven't felt like this about someone in a long time, it's nice for a relationship to go well for a change, it's nice to have someone who feels the same way about me as I do about them. I've never been with someone so alike to me, even our sock drawers match! But still there's enough differences here and there, you know, the good types that help fuel conversations, give you something to talk about, without being clones of each other.
What can I say, for the first time in seven if not even twenty-one and a half years everything is going really well, everything.
I'm happy. | | comments: 1 comment or Leave a comment |
| So, got paid yesterday, and to be honest even though I was only just into my overdraft by the time it fell into my account it's still felt like a fucking long month...!
I've been paid little over £600 for working my arse of day in day out, not to mention I bet you anything when I look at my payslip I'll have been taxed at least £150.
I still haven't had my tax rebates, and I swear I'm owed a fair bit there.
Work still owe me £100 for my expenses for my last trip to Leeds two months ago and oh, guess what, I'm due back there again in another couple of weeks.
So despite being paid I still feel broke, I'm £100 out of pocket and will soon be by £200 if things carry on.
And I have an Open University course to pay for soonish too...
On the plus side, despite money and work everything else is going fantastically well on the whole, and I can't wait to get away and have some sort of holiday when I go to Download in about a week and a half.
To be honest I really do need to get away... | | comments: Leave a comment |
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He's got a point sometimes. Although that's also how some men feel about football. Not me though. | | comments: Leave a comment |
| I'm quitting smoking. Again. I've only been having a couple a day and now I realise I've been hooked without realising it. Makes me angry at those people who smoke and say "yeah but I'm not hooked, I can quit whenever I like." BULLSHIT!
I can't breathe. It's like hyperventilating while I'm breathing normally. Not that I particularly want one either.
I also cleared out my e-mails.
Am tidying my room (or trying to, but the amount of stuff in here that ISN'T mine in here doesn't help.)
I am also going to pledge to drink less, even though this would mean that I'm going to wind up with the lack of ability to express myself when sober that I usually have.
Also feeling slightly stressed because there are two festivals I want to go to this year. They're a month apart. I'd need like, Wednesday - Tuesday off work. This means being off two weekends in the summer and also missing two deliveries. They're not going to like it.
But then fuck it! I'm entitled to holiday BY LAW and I can't really think of many other things I want to do this year. | | comments: Leave a comment |
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