Things I Didn't Know...

Did you know I like to lift my chin and look down my nose at strangers, flaring my nostrils in a primal and subliminal act to intimidate the intruder?

Neither did I.

I had a talk yesterday and I got some good advise: 'Contentment is fine at your age. You're not meant to know what your passions are yet. You're still, for a couple more years yet, trying to find out who you are, and if you're content with how you are now, then be content. But make sure that the contentment doesn't turn into complacency. You've got a good character and I don't think you will. You'll go travelling soon, you'll write more, you'll be happier than you are now. So be content for now, and don't worry what others think of it.'

It was a good talk.

Yesterday I was having a bad day. Did anyone else feel ill after Le Lake Poob Food? I was working my short day, getting in two hours later and leaving an hour later than normal - I felt weird all day. I don't think I did very much all day. But Sunday's coming, and I've decided that I'm not going to walk to Castell Coch - mainly because I want to do that with peeps if peeps still want to, so perhaps I'll just enjoy the park all over again. Starting the day with a nice walk around the park is a good way of starting your day. That and nice coffee, fruit, pastries, perhaps with a roast in the oven for dinner...

Ideas, ideas...

Red came over yesterday for dinner, it was nice with wine and everything. No one else was invited because I was told by everyone else that they had already had plans and there was only one spare bowl of food going, not four. I will admit that I've been very lazy recently. Pill has cooked everything I've been eating for a while now. I will cook Banoffee Pie on Sunday with, perhaps, a small roast shoulder of pork (I love crackling). Though DarkHorse doesn't like Pork. Maybe I won't. Perhaps something new. To the cookbooks I go!

Have a better day than me, Carpe diem you beautiful lot!

Secret Keeper...

When I start something, I tend to like to finish it. Unless it has no foreseeable end, rather like Skyrim or this blog. Though those are both bad examples because I will continue doing them (can you do blog?) because they're addictive and I enjoy them. Though, I find it quite difficult to sit down and start writing a blog at the moment, and I don't think I can not publish this on the same day I wrote it, at 10am as always.

I've got to put the rubbish out.

And there's clearly nothing better in my mind at the moment. Tomorrow (day off) I'm going to explore the Christmas Market and perhaps 'officially' start some Christmas shopping.

I've got a very good idea for some Christmas Presents after some very recent inspiration. And just then I got some more inspiration. It's going to be an interesting Christmas if I pull this off. And provided it's not snowing, I've got my Christmas plans sorted as well. But shhh, Mum doesn't know, and she's either going to be very angry or very happy to see me Christmas Eve. We shall see.

Well it's now Thursday, a whole two days since I wrote all of that, and do you know what? I think I've got things to say now. The first of which being that I am not a rubbish secret-keeper, and it bugs me people saying as such. And following that line of inquiry, we've all got secrets, some that people know, and others that people don't. Secrets exist, and they're not there to annoy others but they will inevitably do so. It's cruel, but it's life. 

But it was not your fault but mine 

And it was your heart on the line

I really fucked it up this time

Didn't I, my dear?

I did some chores yesterday, like the cleaning and the shopping, before playing Skyrim for a short while, catching up with Master of Sex (controversial?!), before heading out and hitting the park for a little bit. It had been a long time, and it was almost snowing at one point the rain was so fine. I obviously took my camera with me. It was great to see all the world change from green to reds, yellows, and deep, rich, mahogany.

But, as the storm clouds closed in, I chose town and wandered around the Christmas Market, and much to Tag's disappointment, I didn't end up buying him a carved concrete fish named Harriet. Instead I clambered into Waterstones (#watetstones #justsaying) and had some cake and coffee before sitting down and writing about the life of Amy Boatman from Farcliff (I'm not convinced she should be called Amy, but the Boatman bit stays). And it also made me realise that Amy Boatman is Red's character - and Tag agreed. So that question is answered right there. So far the cast reads:

Tag - Thom Gomdar who becomes Rhiss Llesion the freedom fighter.

Cherry - Nellia Senaf, a dryad and woodland spirit of Realind.

Red - Amy Boatman, a Seer of the Future and a resident of Farcliff.

Pill - Nopthom Hill, the Woodsman of Myrddin.

DarkHorse - Nico Evelaas, Wind of the Trees.

HB - Lamia, Lady of the Moon.

GG - Gina Gorbs, a gypsy fortune teller.

Wodge - Resy Whalls, a Dark Elf from Qual.

An interesting array of people I think, but obviously you don't know very much about them. Luckily I've got all your stories up in my head, and on my laptop and places like that. Either way, that happened and then I went to see Tag and we went to CEX before heading for Le Lake Poob. Found our usual spots, and drank waiting for everyone. It was a nice evening, except for my feeling I was getting on everyone's nerves. Paranoia does like to set in when I've been by myself for a day or so. It amazes me that I made it to the age of 24 with the mental state I've got.

It was a memory stick with a Frank Album on it. And it wasn't a Secret. 

Carpe diem Chums!

History Of A Year...

250 Posts later and I can say that the shop has been open a whole year now, and I've been there a year and 10 days. It's strange how much has changed in that time. I've not even known Red that long yet. that would be 27th February, not that I'm counting or anything...

I've moved, I've aged, I've gotten slimmer, and richer, and overall I think I'd say I'm happier, though I'm not sure on whether or not I can measure that. Life is pretty sweet at the moment, though, and dare I say it, its starting to get on the ordinary and mundane side. The home, work, food, sleep, routine, is starting to get to me and I'm getting the urge to go sploring (#) soon. Though I'm not sure where.

Castell Coch perhaps. Just 6 miles up the cycle path, walk up there and back Sunday morning before lunch. It could be done, if the weather's okay. I don't mind the weather being rotten, but I think my camera might, or any companions who accompany me. Barry Island Fish and Chips? Penarth Pier with the finest Steakhouse in Wales with a cold pint in the Custom House on the way back?

Summer's not here anymore, but why should that stop us? I fancy checking out more of the Wye Valley too, though I'd need a car for that. I would say Gower, Cardigan, Pembroke Coast, Brecon Beacons, but my childhood was mainly spent rambling those places, I even fell off a small cliff in Gower into a field of Gorse Bushes. Not a nice end to the day I'll tell you. I've been swept out to sea, and delivered minutes later by the water to the sands, but that was Ogmore I think. I've broken a leg and walked home on it, but that was school.

Where was I? Ah yes, band photos. Let's face it guys, we can look sexy as fuck, and band photos are practically the only way we can capture that slow-mo strut without Tag's iPhone. Although, saying that, we do require to make a movie I think.

Reading trees are hard to come by in the winter, although a pub with a fireplace, and and afternoon tea menu could be fun - like a proper Sunday afternoon off, though we hardly get Sunday afternoons.

Everyone's coming to Jamie's Italian for my birthday this evening! I swear this is the last you'll hear of it. I'm not used to this choosing places and making plans for me malarkey. And that's an odd thought in itself I think. Shouldn't you be able to know what you want to do?

I want to visit a new place. I want to spend the day, week, or month there. I want to know its history, traditions, accent, and experience it was my friends. I want to sit and write something worth writing in my mind, it's got to be epic, fun, possibly dark, emotive, and fantastical. And I want to be happy, and I think I've got that mostly covered. Everyone has their off days...

Carpe diem guys!...

Waking Up Alone...

Its rather odd waking up in the dark, but I think it's even odder waking up alone. Now, I don't mean alone in bed, because I've always done that, for 23/24 years, and I know no different, and I don't care anyway... (forever alone...hashtag)

But I do mean alone in the house. Even upstairs was gone. I couldn't hear her shuffling or bashing and crashing (she's quite clumsey from the sounds of things). And it was an odd feeling considering that I had spent the evening with all the guys, even GG, and went home with both Pill and DarkHorse.

So, I woke up alone, and then spent the day washing the dishes, eating Nachos and Dip, honing my artwork, and playing GTA 5. I even discovered that they weren't to be returning that day via a text sent at about 4ish. But, by that time I had caught up on television and was deep in Downton. 

I can see why people are so addicted to it.

It's going to be a strange week. I have a day off on Thursday, but before then I'm working a 9-5, a 10-7, and a 11:30-8:30. Fun times ahead, from the sounds of things, and hopefully a couple of hang outs throughout too.

Carpe diem...

Quiet Day It Is Then...

In these bodies we will live, in these bodies we will die. And where you invest your love, you invest your life...

A very nice lyric that just floated over my iPod speakers and into my ears. It made me smile and feel good about myself. It's both a very depressing indie statement that I like all too much because it's attached to an upbeat melody, but it's also a very sweet confession of love and life and everything in between. 

Let's face it, its raining outside, and my friends all have work, what else am I going to do, but consult the musical realms and sit here and write - well I suppose I might make a breakfast in a bit, and watch Avengers/Les Mis...

Don't you find that forcing yourself to have a lie-in is one of the most painful ways of sleeping?

I'm hoping to finish Bute Wall (But-e-wall) later so you all might have little messages to my other blog (the writing one) where I keep my secrets. Or I might just email you all the body of text that I'm forming, I haven't figured it out yet. 

Who knows, I might even do some Writing People stuff later (eek-eth, could you imagine?). Though saying that, something needs to be done about that. Perhaps in the coming months we'll figure it out again.

I don't have very much to say today, perhaps I will later, or tomorrow, but what're you going to do? It's my day off, it's Pay Day, it's raining, and no one's around.

Quiet day it is then...

Carpe diem...

Cause And Effect...

Yesterday was a good day. And it wasn't just a good day in the sense that nothing cataclysmically bad happened to me, there were no train derailments, or tsunamis, or alien invasions in my life yesterday, it was just an ordinary day, and yet one that made me smile more than usual. And I think that was just about it, smiling. My workmates saw it, some even pointed it out (and some even got suspicious of it). Why was I smiling? No reason, and yet every reason. And now I'm starting to sound like a rather pompous swine with nothing better to do than to watch a daffodil grow through the seasons, from life to death to re-birth. 

I can't actually remember much of what happened, apart from my workmates' suspicions. I was kindly complimented on my previous blog, I was observed by the general public as being happy with my job, and as I slept last night, or as I tried, a line or two of a poem or a song entered and twisted and simply popped into my head. I rolled over and typed this into my phone:

'When Winter Leaves and Winter Trees

Bring Summer Long to her knees,

We shall battle on, we shall battle on...'

I'm not entirely sure if those lines are good or not, and I'm not even sure if they'll come to anything. But I'm glad I wrote them down, because a few lines I've been having recently, whilst in the grips of the sleepy pathway to slumber, have been lost to the recesses of my mind, not to be recovered. 

But, as with all goodness, there's a flip side. Pill's convinced (as always) that I'm coming across as wonderfully fake, and wanted me to sit down and talk about the future again last night. DarkHorse is on about buying a house early next year, and wishes for Pill, HB, and I to move in. I can only see a handful of problems ready to occur and none of which he wishes to discuss with me. There are just two things I require from a house/flat/place I'm living in apart from the obvious ones:

1. It needs to be within walking distance of town, not really any further than half an hour. I can't rely on public transport again like I was before Christmas. So much time wasted, 10 hours a week, 40 a month, 120 over the three months I waited. I spent the equivalent of five days waiting for trains to and from work, and I don't want to have to do that, or something similar, again.
2. It needs to have somewhere green to explore. That's an obvious one, for me at least. Somewhere to get lost, and somewhere to find things you weren't expecting to find.

There are of course other things concerning me, and convincing me that moving out alone would be a better option entirely, but none more so than Pill and DarkHorse wanting me to be a part of the decision. I may live there, but in the long run, it would be their (her) first house together. Why should I get a say in where they live? And for that matter, why would they want anyone else there apart from to make it conveniently cheap?

Maybe I'm just having doubts because doubts are worth having, unless every instinct in me is saying 'this is a bad idea', I'm not sure. Cause and effect, do something and make something else happen. You make a decision, and make something else happen. And never before have Ioan Gruffudd's words made more sense (two days since viewing them). If I do this now, I have a few ideas on how it plays out, and likewise if I don't do it. It's another big decision, especially after I just got settled into our flat and everything. I've just about dulled myself to the bean related meals and subsequent flatulence from across the room, doors slamming at the 6am wake-up call, and the 'you cook, I'll clean' regime.

It's a tricky one, and it'll take some thought, but in the meantime, I've got to take every day as it comes, and be happy in the fact that tomorrow the sun will rise and that opportunities are ready to be made, found, and explored to the fullest...

Carpe diem...

Also, have you heard 'What does the Fox say yet?'...

Lover of the Light...

And I will wait, I will wait for you

And I will wait, I will wait for you

So break my step

And relent

You forgave and I won't forget

Know what we've seen

And him with less

Now in some way

Shake the excess

Red, welcome to the Folkier side of Rock! We'll get you hooked to Of Monsters and Men next (for the lolz)...

Did I just say that?!

I had a good day yesterday. There were some good customers, and some bad ones, but the good ones were so good that they were able to keep by mood upbeat. There were only three of them, two of which I remember. The first being an Aussie couple I got to talk Doctor Who to. And the second who chatted to me about the world, and life, and writing. Don't give up, accept rejection, and work for it. And if you die with a hundred manuscripts to your name, remember that your relatives will be able to benefit from them after you're gone, you'll be forgotten, but they'll be rich and famous because of you. A sort of happy thought I suppose. He also suggested glory printing, but I'm not too sure about that - but thanks Alun for your kind words, and I agree, I'm not too old for Fantasy!...

In other news, I feel like we haven't been hanging out a lot recently, and I know that's an entire lie. It's this current pattern of a 5-day week, where you guys all have days off during the week, that's throwing me off. And we haven't had a Sunday in a while - and I don't think I can do one until the end of the month (ARGH!). Saturday nights perhaps? Real food, a late start in the morning because it's Sunday, and just the four of us again. Either way, I'm talking bollocks, because I saw all of you last week, Red came over on the weekend, and we're going cinema'ring tonight. And like I told Red when she wrote:

'Anyway, the point is, I keep feeling horrible, then a good song comes on and I tell myself to just deal with it and be happy (for fucks sake), and repeat. Does that make me strong or weak? I'll tell you what it does make me: an overthinker. A classic fucking overthinker.'

That's how everyone feels when they're lonely, right? I know I do. I drown myself in music, I don't feed myself, because quite frankly, I cook too much food, mainly for groups of people. And don't start telling me to cook and save some. Having the same thing every day might bore me. I'm going to start doing the second stage of Spartacus at the end of the week, and I think it might kill me.

I haven't been drunk in a while. And I really want a Milkshake. Conflicting oddness, I'm sure. Banana Milkshake, with a hit of Vanilla. Oooo a Cowpots. Pill was an arse yesterday suggesting that, and all the places and things I couldn't have or get access too this week, or this month for that matter.

Either way, I'm being a moron, and I'm looking forward to seeing you guys later. And I saw something on Facebook earlier, that made me sort of happy. It's a 25-year-old's advice on being 25. And as I'm still a whole year and a bit away from that - but here it is - and I hope you like it.

Carpe diem...

Nothing Really...

Inevitably, quite simply nothing happened yesterday, and I was fine with it...

It feels a little odd to be going back to work again today, Pill made sure I got up well before my alarm by slamming the front door particularly hard this morning. So, I've had my breakfast, I'm having my coffee and I was just going through Frank Turner (we're going to see him!) videos - I didn't know there was a video for Wessex Boy.

With my Sunday, Pill and DarkHorse took us to the big Tesco to buy certain more supplies that we failed to get the other day at the market, and then we came back home and watched three or four movies followed by a couple of episodes of Black Butler (a weird anime. I don't think I'll watch much more). 

Have you guys seen House of Cards? I've been watching it since Spacey's speech about television, and I'm really enjoying it. It's dark, smart, and occasionally funny. I just don't like how predictable it is, but I think that's my only gripe. And then for some reason we started talking about Pokemon Series 1. Did you know it took place over a year an a half (81 episodes), and if we were to watch them all it would take us 27 hours. And that's just from Pallet Town to Indigo Plateau.

I've eaten a lot of crap in the past week. Pill likes to remind me. He's started telling me what I can and can't eat as well - and it's mostly for my own good, but when he says it because he wants something I was going to have, it annoys me.

I feel like I wasted my Sunday. I didn't need to do anything, but it felt like I should have done. And then this happened...

And continued to happen until I was long asleep. 

This post is really about nothing. And that's a bit weird, because I don't like writing about nothing. But sometimes you've just got to write, and write, and write. It's not all going to be good, but sometimes it might be. Damn I miss proper writing. Luckily, I've got Bute Wall to edit now - that'll give me something creative to do, and I've been thinking about the Badly Drawn Adventures and the Skyrim Escapades a lot recently too.

That's enough babbling for now I think.

Carpe diem...

What To Talk About...

I sat here for a while (a wh-aisle) and wondered what I was going to write for you guys today. I could, obviously go into how my day was yesterday, but apart from daily commitments, leftovers, and What To Expect When You're Expecting, nothing much happened to me. 

FYI: What To Expect When You're Expecting isn't really that good, despite the all star cast. I suppose I went into it thinking it was a RomCom (which Netflix wanted me to believe) but soon discovered it was a RomWidABitOrfCom...

I'm not even sure what I ate last night. I know it was Indian, but I'm not sure what sort of curry it was or anything (I'm not an Indian Cuisine connoisseur). I boiled some rice to go with it, and ate it nonetheless though. Ah, to throw myself blindly into a foodie adventure, unknown tastes and smells, all accumulating in the forefront of my taste buds.

I've not written much, if at all, this week. And I doubt the real-world fiction gift wrapped itself with a nice ribbon on top while I was away. I know the police are going to get involved and there's going to be some minor to major peril involving either a knife or a gun, but I don't really want to introduce it. Though, if I don't the story won't get that epic bit you get at the end of awesome songs (you know the one that I mean).

Speaking of songs, Red (okay, I talk about you a bit), twatted another beauty last night (Playlist?) - and it also reminded me of a Nanalew video:

So yeah, that happened. I don't think I've woken up before a wished that it was Monday before - an odd one I know, but let me reason with you - if it was Monday, it would be A. another short day for me due to a bank holiday, and B. one day closer to 4-Day Weekend of Awesome. I think its safe to say I'm getting a tad excited, sort of like going on holiday with all your mates at once.

I admit we haven't done the roadtrips and the travelling that I had first envisaged for the summer, but it's been nice. We've hungout, sometimes in the open air, eaten too much pizza, frolicked and played, and most of the time had work. Next summer perhaps we should all just book a week off for roadtripping and things - perhaps around the solstice for the Stonehenge Sunrise (perhaps I'll get a car, and a camera, and things like that). I might have moved by then too. This is all after our holiday in Spring next year of course. I don't mind where, as long as its abroad; exploring, partying, living a little...

A lot can happen in a year, but I remain positive in the understanding that we all have to know each other until The Returned returns...

Carpe diem...

My Restful Day Off...

Yesterday was certainly a day of two halves, but before I tell you I must say I hope I slept with my bedroom door open last night, because if I closed it like I usually do, I woke up to it open. Which either means I was followed home, I was visited by a thief who didn't nick anything, or other... (aliens!)

Please let it be my drunken state of leaving the door open...

Anyway, yesterday was meant to be my restful day off, preparing me for the week ahead and all that jazz. Alas (earwax), my Mother thought I sounded upset by something after I phoned her on Friday to find out how my sister did in her Disney interview. Which, let's face it, it was the very last day of my very bad week. I wasn't going to sound happy about anything I don't think. My enthusiasm levels were somewhat drained, but to go so far as concern...

They arrived early in the morning, Pill and DarkHorse had disappeared on their weekend to Carms without me noticing, I must have been engrossed in my writing (which is something I didn't know I did, and now you do), and we went out shopping about the town, I bought Tag's gifts in _______ (*insert relevant shop here*) and traveled all over town, before grabbing a pasty and heading back to mine as the rain began. In M&S Ben told me Mum thought I was depressed which was the only reason they were there, and not to deliver me some shoes (that'll be £50 please). And you can think how that conversation went...

'She thinks you're depressed.'
'What?'
'That's why we're here.'
'Stupid woman.'
'I know.'

But it was good to joke with them, and I got to break the news to Mum (again) that I wouldn't be coming back for Christmas this year. She said okay, but you're still coming for Christmas Eve and morning with us right? She was mainly childish about it when I told her about the pinkie promise (fine, no presents for you!). I said I would be back at some point for Christmas, but her argument 'But Christmas is for family' fell apart when I told her that they were my family too. She even went so far as to invite you all for Christmas Day, which upset my brother and sister a bit. Either way, their visit was cut short when Nat said something in jest and crossed the line, (hey it runs in the family) 'that's what she does, she loves us by cutting us down.' Mum took offence and nearly left the other two here with me. Luckily they got to the car before she did...

The second part of yesterday (bar writing lots) involved a lot of drink. I dressed up sexy (as I always do - You: '*le sigh* waistcoat?', Me: 'WAISTCOAT MUTHAFUCKA!') and hit the town. In actuality I only managed to go to two places, due to having daily commitments today, but I was out for six hours. And I now know Las Iguanas does real Absinthe (well, almost 70%). Either way I drank lots more than every one else, which was 7 cocktails, two doses of the 64% Rum they use in Revs Cuba, a Pint, and a glass of Red wine, all washed down with a nice Spoons Burger. Dancing was had in Spoons, but I didn't like the DJ very much. The music wasn't anything good, and the dance floor was covered in CHAVs trying to get with the girls, and Hen Dos with Massive Penises (think Blue Whale). The group had a bit of fun with Grindr (there's an app for that), and I parted ways pretty early on into the night, which leaves me with the mystery of the open bedroom door. 

Tonight is Date Night (obvs) and I'm not quite sure what's going to happen, but I know it is happening. I look forward to seeing the gang again in a better mood this time (hopefully, there's a whole day yet). 

Carpe diem...

The Second Coming...

Yesterday turned out okay in the end. Who knew? Though today I have a limp, a head cold, and a sore wrist (keep your thoughts to yourself)...

It's amazing how the smallest things can affect your mood. Music for example. I've been listening to a lot of Mumford and Sons, and when that banjo kicks in an the epic, emotive, awesome jump starts the song, I tend to smile and thrash my fist with the beat. And until yesterday, my favourite poem was The Second Coming by W.B. Yeats:

Turning and turning in the widening gyre

The falcon cannot hear the falconer;

Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;

Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,

The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere

The ceremony of innocence is drowned;

The best lack all conviction, while the worst

Are full of passionate intensity.

Surely some revelation is at hand;

Surely the Second Coming is at hand.

The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out

When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi

Troubles my sight: a waste of desert sand;

A shape with lion body and the head of a man,

A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,

Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it

Wind shadows of the indignant desert birds.

The darkness drops again but now I know

That twenty centuries of stony sleep

Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,

And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,

Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

Dark, apocalyptic, and wonderful imagery, I hope you'll agree. And then we started talking about poetry during our daily commitments, and Biddy suggested a poem I should read, and it sounded like a very intelligent person wrote it. The Blind Men and The Elephant by John Godfrey Saxe. It's a good read, if you haven't read it only eight stanzas long and it blows apart almost every single religion to date, by saying you're all sort of right but at the same time, you're all incredibly wrong...

I got to speak to Wodge again last night, we chatted about this and that for hours. It's good to know that she's still around, and kickin'. And the gauntlet has been laid down, real-world fiction (lol) will be written soon! Thank you again Wodge!

But now the new dawn is here, I feel like death warmed up, but today is a new day...

Carpe diem...

Push The Button...

One day more, another day another destiny!...

And now comes the final day of my week, before I can press the big fat reset button that resides in Saturday's newspaper, and forget the bollocks that's happened this week, purely because I wasn't in the mood for it. Hopefully that'll do it, and hopefully I'll be able to eat properly again, and sleep, and generally be myself (unless this is myself, in which case - dun, dun  DUN! - too meta?)

Yesterday was the same old same old, and I got to hang out with Pill and his mate Lee for a while after the daily commitments. It was cool, just sitting and talking politics, work, philosophy, and a great deal more with them. I couldn't be bothered to cook again, and I haven't really managed to stomach anything for most of the week. That might be one of the factors for my mood I suppose - but at least I'll be nice and thin by comic-con if this feeling doesn't go away. Always got to look on the positive side of things. 

Though (and I don't mean this) I did just think about writing a joke about how dying would be the next positive thing to happen to me, which when you put it like that it certainly sounds funny...

Anyway, tomorrow I hope to wake up at a reasonable hour and just relax. No daily commitments, no nothing to do, just sit and calm the fuck down Bridget! 

I think I need another adventure soon. Perhaps when the sun comes back in September. I don't know where I'll go, but I think I might need some new scenery or something. Perhaps I won't. I remember following Jimbo in the dark of winter through a bog, and I lost my shoe in sub-zero temperatures, and then we stumbled on a milking plant and almost got chased by dogs and men, as we climbed through barbed wire fences. I also remember falling down a mountain and bouncing off every tree on the way down, but that's another story I'm sure...

As Red has announced and shown her challenged fiction, 6 Poems, I wish to say that I have at least made a start on my real-world fiction. I think it's going to be called "Bute Wall" (a working title) and its obviously set in Cardiff (write what you know). I'm not going to give anything else away, but I think it's going to be a short-ish story about hope and hopelessness (how very deep of me - is it?).

That's what fills my evenings now, Pill goes to bed, and I sit up writing. It's quite pleasant. We don't share the same bed, although that sentence could be read that way. It reminds me of the uni days, except I'm purely using a pen and paper, and an iPod helps too.

But anyway, I think I've babbled on a bit now. See you on the new dawn...

Carpe diem...

P.S. Sorry for being a dick the other night. 

Chin Up...

My mood has not improved despite quite a restful night sleep. What's wrong with me this week?!

Yesterday, or last night if you will, Tag, Cherry, Red, Pill, and I went to the pub, the new look Western, only slightly brighter than the old look Western. And it's brilliant how alcohol can improve a bad day. That's a bad sentence to say, but damn, it does...

We ate, sang, mid-air humped to Whistle While I Work It, and defused texts all in the name of cool and sexiness. I showed the girls at work WWIWI and they loved it, starting to mid-air hump and sing and everything in the staff room. And a nice time, more or less, was had.

Now, the other day, and he brought it up last night, Pill mentioned something that I thought was quite, not poetic, it's not poetic at all, but it is kind of motivating, and gear grinding at the same time. Just write, was what he essentially said, just write. It doesn't matter what you write, what you have written, what you're feeling or any of that shit. Have deadlines, have off days, and have crap writing. Nothing's perfect, nothing ever will be. It won't work out the way you want it to half the time, but you've got to do it to realise that it won't work. You've just got to go, set out, and write muthafucker. Or else, how can you call yourself a writer? That's how real writers do it. They don't sit down and plan all the time, they just sit down, every day, and write something. They give themselves deadlines every week, and they keep to those deadlines or else what's the point?

Quite right Pill, quite right. As it is in life, so too shall it be in writing. 

I've decided I'm not going to visit the person Tag's colleague was trying to set me up with, and no it's not just because of the name. I did try visiting her yesterday to no avail. No, I'm not going to go visit her a. because it's Tag's colleague trying to set me up and not Tag, b. because she fancied Tag first, and c. because let's be honest, it's the name. You try saying your parent's name in the throws of passion. It doesn't make for a pretty picture.

I know I'm no arsehole, I've tried doing that, and it didn't work out then. I'm me. I can be a dick sometimes, but I'm more than likely going to be labelled as a nice guy, and that image conjures up thoughts of jumpers and ties, in coupley dinner parties, holding a glass of orange juice due to being the designated driver, and glasses for some reason - not sure why. Right now, I just want to be a dinosaur again, like I did when I was five.

All in all, I'm not ready yet. I haven't slimmed down to my fullest, I haven't bulked out to my maxest, and I haven't become my bestest yet. I'm not as bad as I was, very encouraging words indeed. 

Let's roll on Sunday then.

Carpe diem...

Pixar Theory...

'ARE YOU MENTALLY DEFICIENT?!'

'No, if I was Mentally Deficient, I would have missed...'

Yeah, I started watching Misfits again last night because I'm a poor plagiarist, who just likes to cave to peer pressure and copy everyone around him. Oh well...

Yesterday was a usual day, except when I brought up Pixar Theory, then I discovered that very few people at the daily commitment knew about it, and I think I was talking to Red about it the previous evening, due to Monsters University, and the beautiful short The Blue Umbrella (you don't say). There were tyre-marks on that thing and everything. And I did watch the Paperman (ouch, right in the feels). How do they get it so right?

I've decided I wanna, together as a group, make a series of short films (obviously we don't have a budget, or a deadline, but it's something new to try. And we could come up with ideas together and write them all out, and breathe life into Lazy Student Productions once more?), and if not, I want to take a load of Band Photos (maybe on our days out in August - that could be good).

I think Paperman is the best one so far, true love and fate and really nice animation and music to match. Teary eyes and everything. Anyway, where was I? Pixar Theory...

So I'm just going to copy and paste this here because I'm a plagiarist and blow all your minds (I really fancy learning piano. There's a guitar in the window of the Cranes shop I pass almost every morning that has a sign on it the reads 'I come with Free Lessons')...

So yes. Pixar Theory. Mind Blown much?

Either way, it got me thinking (oh the lies) about my challenge of writing something in the real world for once (thanks Tag). Red's got the Poems, Tag's got the RomCom, and I've got the Real World (I think Cherry would have been challenged too, if she hadn't been half asleep at the time. Let's challenge Cherry too!

I also liked the idea about four separate films from the same footage. August sounds like a creative month. Flexing our muscles for some NaNoWriMo perhaps? But I've been thinking about the theory of writing again, and a presentation I had to give in Uni about how my stories (or at least the fantasy ones) were all about geography and language, or they were the more important aspects to me. Getting the feel of the story right. I shan't bore you with any more of the bits I find interesting (MAPS!), but I'll just say, if I was a student now, I would be a much better student (Dr. Matt Jones style).

I'll get on with some plotlines and planning later I think. Pill's going to be away for about two weeks he reckons, after he comes back and does three days work next week. So that's cool. We'll both holiday away from each other. It has to happen every now and then, or else our moods would just affect each other quite a bit I imagine.

But I've written quite enough for one day. DarkHorse's tomorrow, and I haven't the slightest idea of what's happening, but I do have the Parking Permit, the possibilities are endless...

Carpe diem...

Writing A Bit...

I think you all know by now that I tend to write about what I know (which I know, isn't very much - oh be belittled himself again), and as such the world of Palurin came about. For those of you who don't know, Palurin is my fantasy realm where epic adventures happen to all my characters, and not all have happily-ever-afters. They're not that sort of story/plot/narrative. Something things happen to my characters to build them up, and make them seem more normal than fantastical, and somethings happen to them that need to happen to drive the story forward, and the inevitable end I foresee for them all. 

However, there is also one other aspect about my characters that most people don't know. They're all based on real people I know. Some characters I enjoy writing, and I don't get to speak with or see the person they're based on for a very long time, and other characters I don't really like writing even though I know the real person and I know they wouldn't do half the things their character does. But there is one thing I can assure you, you do have a character, and they are living in my world, the world I created when I was eight, and the one I occasionally visit, though not as often as I'd like, and you've only made it there because you're significant to me, or you used to be. I'm sure you can put the pieces together, I've even posted some of them to wearethewritingpeople.co.uk: Apprentice, Lamia, Culling, and Prey being just a few (guess who they're about if you can).

But something in the week got me thinking about a new character. So please bare with me, and let me know what you think. It is only a first draft after all...

Carpe diem...

‘From a seafaring shore, far in the stormy northern waves, a tyrant rides the white horses they say.’ The tavern was a quiet place. A storm raged outside, and all decent folk had retreated to their homes. The odd traveller had sought refuge in the tavern, but not many, and none of them cared to hear a story from a drunken sailor. Though, he had spiked the curiosity of the barmaid who wiped down the table next to him.

‘Do they now?’ she asked, standing upright again. The drunken man turned to face the maid he hadn’t seen before, and threw all his attention on her.

‘Yes they do. The Red Captain sailing his Crimson Tabby, a fearless vessel; plundered a thousand ships, and pillaged a hundred villages, the bane of Elledjhon himself.’

‘One ship the bane of an Empire?’ The maid pressed for more details, allowing the rag in her hand to drip freely on the floor and slowly dry.

‘Oh yes, the Red Captain and his crew, daringly defiant in the face of death. They’ve fought off a dozen ships, some of the Elledjhon’s fleet, and sank them all. No survivors.’

‘So how do you know any of this is there weren’t survivors?’ the girl was quick witted and saw a lie when she was told one. His bloodshot eyes darted from her elegant blue ones like an untouched pool of sapphires caught in the sunlight.

‘Well, some say don’t they?’ the sailor busied himself finishing his pint.

‘They’re just stories you mean?’

‘Stories I’ve heard!’ he raised his voice and slammed his glass down on the table. ‘Stories I’ve had to prepare myself for.’ He grabbed the barmaid by her petticoat and dragged her closer to him. He looked her square in the eyes, baring his yellowing teeth in a menacing grin. ‘The entire fifth fleet has been ordered to search the northern waters and to eliminate the Crimson Tabby, and kill that bastard of a Captain and his crew at all costs,’ he said through gritted teeth. ‘I am a crewman of the Strand, the flagship of the fifth, and I am scared.’ There was no fear in his eyes or voice, only distrust and fatigue. His grip didn’t loosen.

‘I’ve got to get back to work,’ she said innocently, but as she pulled away he pulled back. He moved his face closer to hers.

‘Won’t you comfort this sailor, ready to greet death at sea, before his last voyage?’ he forced his lips on hers. He tasted of rot and rum, like a back street dentist. She tried to raise a hand to him, but was stopped by his tanned forearm. There was barely any movement in the struggle, and no one noticed the commotion. All she needed to do was scream, but she didn’t. ‘You forget your place lass, it’s beneath a man.’

‘No sir, you’re wrong,’ she said calmly within his vice-like grip around her throat. Her rosen cheeks turned a redder shade. One arm clenched her fist, and his other started to fondle the folds of her dress.

She jolted, loosening his grip on her arm. Her hair, the shade of a sun sweetened cherry in the height of summer, swayed from its tidy bun until it dangled neatly by her shoulders. The movement was that of an instant, but the man ceased his actions. She had removed the dagger he kept upon his belt, and was pressing it against the soft flesh below his belt. She freed her arms and her dress, and stood above him. ‘You sir, are wrong.’ He looked at her confused. ‘It is you, who is beneath this woman.’ He flinched as she pressed the blade harder into his flesh until a little blood showed. ‘You have options, sir. You can run from here and join your fleet to die at sea, or I can kill you now. Either way, you die.’ She grinned a pleasant smile waiting for his response. It did not take long.

‘The fleet,’ he replied with a quivering voice. She removed the knife from his flesh and cleaned it on her petticoat. The man stood up, and wobbled. There was a thought tingling at the forefront of his mind, the barmaid could see it, working its way to his mouth. The man walked a few steps away from her before turning.

‘What makes you so sure that the fleet will fail?’ The woman sighed, facing him again. She threw the blade at the man and he fell backwards to the floor with a scream. The knife protruded from his right shoulder. The other travellers in the tavern took note of the next encounter. They were her witnesses. And none of them were heroic enough to intervene. The barmaid walked over the man who was shouting profanities at her. A sweat had come over him, and blood oozed onto the floor from his shoulder. She pressed a foot onto his right hand causing more screams and more terror.

‘I am so sure, because I shall take my ship, and my crew, and I shall eradicate the very existence of the fifth fleet from my waters. Understood?’ There was real fear in the man's eyes as he looked back at her. He saw her for who she was, he had seen death, he had seen the Red Captain.

So This Is How It Is...

I just spent the last day, and majority of the week, by myself, like a big boy. And do you know what? I really don't like it...

I think it helps when I have work to be getting on with or to go to, but I've just not found anything to distract me to such an extreme today. It's happened before, and it'll undoubtedly happen again, where Pill, despite his insistence that I move in with him because otherwise he'll go mad by himself, has gone out without informing me of his plans...

Before I start sounding like a concerned parent. I don't care what Pill does in his spare time, or where he goes. It merely annoys me because since his condemnation of my cooking, he has taken up the mantle of cooking everything (namely curry or chili) and has banned me from doing anything because he either doesn't like what I cook, or the way I cook it. Therefore, when he doesn't come back from his daily outing, I'm left wondering what's for dinner, and since he went shopping to the cost of £75 last week (of which I paid half) I went to investigate what I could cook. As I explored I found four packs of frozen bacon and a pack of frozen sausages (cider and apple if you're wondering - and a variety I won't eat due to the unwanted sweetness in my savouries. I know I must be the only person to hate the coupling of pork and apple, but I do), some chips (why?), plenty of veg, three slices of bread, condiments, a chorizo, and some cheese. So, where's my food? I haven't eaten £30's worth of food this week, and I had to pay extra for that bread and cheese! 

Needless to say, I didn't cook. I ordered some Chinese instead (cos I be lazy) and watched a movie wondering where the bloody hell they could be, when I see a Facebook status from DarkHorse mentioning HB's and food and such. Couples make plans all the time, I don't care, but I do mind when I'm not told that there are plans and that I should plan to be alone. I expected them to be back by about lunchtime with Pill's chirpy: 'just popping out' this morning. 

I guess it all boils down to Pill wanting DarkHorse to move in, which of course means that we'll have to move. I've told him, like I told him from the start, I'm not living with a couple. I don't mind if she comes over and stays a while, but actually living with a couple, its just not something I saw myself doing this year. For one, I'll never get a say on anything.

Have you noticed that this group is fracturing? Or is it just me? Tag and Cherry don't like Pill and DarkHorse, Pill and DarkHorse don't like Tag and Cherry, Pill and I are going to fall out over this moving business because he wants to move his girlfriend in (I see the financial benefits, but on the other hand, no), I don't think HB and I have had a conversation in a year. Everything seems to be splitting again, and that's just the long and short of it. 

Have I given up caring? 

Pill might argue (and he would) that I leave him by himself all the time. And truth be it, yes, yes I do, but I probably wouldn't have done so much if he was ever in the flat in those early days. He still talks to me about money and other shit like that, and asks me about how secure my job is and completely fucks with my head all the bloody time. And yet he's the poor one, or so he says. He sits and talks to me about my life and suggests things I should do. Why is it his business?

I guess when I'm alone, all the dark thoughts do sort of come out. But there's always solace in it all. If I wasn't alone that one time, I wouldn't have randomly started talking to Red, and she wouldn't have become such a close friend as she is now. Tag and I wouldn't hangout so much I don't think, and we wouldn't all hangout together as much as we do. We wouldn't cinema, burger, sleep, and cat, all together. And I like that, but if it wasn't for loneliness it wouldn't have happened. 

I know I can be an annoying and stupid prick sometimes but I just wanted to tell you all that. And I think I've ranted enough and gotten all my crazy out for one day. What do you think?

I'm going to start writing again, and hopefully get this short story finished this week. Then we'll see what I do with it. 

Carpe diem...

That There's A Belly Button...

That title could be a little insensitive to a certain redheaded individual, but roll with it, it's relevant, sort of...

After my daily deeds on Wednesday I started the arduous trek to the Bay. The walk wasn't strenuous, and the weather wasn't too bad, the only real arduous part was when my iPod decided to pause every now and then for fun it seemed. Needless to say, it annoyed me. But then I received a phone call from Red, and I called her back, but I couldn't get through, so instead I called Tag: 

'WE'RE COMING TO GET YOU BARBARA!'

So, I waited on the side of the empty road and flagged them down, like a NYC cab, and we sped off in the other direction, breaking the law a bit, but nonetheless going the way we wanted. Our destination, and the place we spend most Wednesday evenings (due to my late working times), the Cinema. Our movie, Hangover Part III. Or as the ticket called it Hngvr Prt III which is pronounced as Hung-ver-pErt-ee! (I googled it).

I enjoyed the movie very muchly. As action packed an fun as most action movies tend to be, but it wasn't a Hangover Movie, there wasn't even a Hangover in it! Well, not until the credits of course, but they still lost Doug (I have boobies now!).

We vacated the cinema after the credits, as is our way nowadays (damn you Marvel), and ventured into the smelly air. It does always smell like wet socks down there. We ordered Chicken House (traditions be a mounting I think), and probably stumbled on some doggers on the walk back.

The next day just so happened to be my first day of Holiday (and I think it's more than 10-days now, eek!) so I set about things to do, item first being a haircut. I know I paid, and I physically saw the lady chop parts of my hair out, but it doesn't feel like I've had a haircut. Oh well, maybe next payday. I visited Tag in work, they were talking to a famous so I thought I'd just interrupt. He wasn't too famous, but he is the second Misfits actor I've seen this week. Perhaps they're remaking it, in Cardiff! (that would be odd, but I think the Bay has enough high-rises to accommodate).

Then on the way home I wandered my usual route, and I pressed the button to cross the road by the Castle, I was thinking about walking home through the park. Though something else struck me. Fuck it, the Museum's free I thought, and walked up that way, discovering a small deserted park with another Marquee of Bute statue, and I noticed that they're erecting (giggity) tents opposite the museum. I wonder what they're doing with those. I traversed the museum's floors for a couple of hours, taking in memories of my childhood. My dad would always take us to the Museum when he looked after us. I think he just wanted to get us to learn a thing or two about history and the make up of the world, because I don't think he ever took us to see the art upstairs. Either way, DINOSAURS!

I returned home after, but not before taking three businessmen to the train station (good deed done), and sat and wrote for many many hours, before eating with Pill and DarkHorse and watching Rango with them (That there's a belly button, being a quote from said movie). I then returned to the writing. It's all crappy, but I think I've found plot. Tag's eyebrows rose when I told him that yesterday. I hope you'd be proud. And that's where I am, and what I've been doing. This evening, since everyone has invited themselves over, Red and I have been invited to Tag and Cherry's for the evening. It'll be my first free journey there and back, because DarkHorse is driving, since moving to Cardiff I think. Who knows?

I think I miss driving. It's just like exploring, but with a car. (obvs, you moron)...

Carpe diem...

A Tuesday Pick-Me-Up...

Tuesday was the pick-me-up of the week so far. And I'm only working for three days! (I know right, insane)...

Early in the day I was guiding a gentleman to the appropriate section when we started to discuss our education, and our writing. Dafuq? He said he had just finished his first novel and was getting it edited by some random for £1000 (stfu!). PhD and you're spending a Grand on getting the manuscript editted by a stranger? I don't think so. It was nice to discuss literal therory and story structure and everything again. It feels like it's been such a long time, and he was very supportive of my work, adding, before he left, 'don't stop writing.' It made me smile. 

Soon after I had a Lady come in who I had seen before. She'd been in before, but that wasn't it. So as I was showing her our selection of finely stuffed Money Boxes I asked, 'do I know you from somewhere?'. She looked at me oddly and denied it, like anyone would if you were asked said question by said man in the quietest section of a shop. I persisted: 'are you an actress?' she started to twig, and smiled replying 'yes.' 'Were you in Misfits?' I continued, and she finally caved, saying that she had been spotted. I knew it was her the first time she had come in, but I hadn't asked, and now I had, the Hot Parole Officer Sally from Series One was in my shop!

The day was getting on, and I had one final customer who either made my day, or called me fat. We were talking about facemasks. And I had said something along the lines of 'my face is too big to fit in that one.' I don't know how she took that, I have a big head, it's entirely in proportion to the rest of me I should add (ladies *creepy wink*), but a big head nonetheless. Her reply was simply 'like Mr. Incredible.' O-kay, I wouldn't have thought of it like that, but sure. She asked me to take it as a compliment, but whatevs. Two-out-of-three good things aren't bad like.

I'm getting more and more concerned that I'm going to be wasting my holiday most of next week, and I don't know what to do about it. It looks like in might be raining. Everyone else is in work. I might try and meet some new people, but I can't be bothered at the moment, I know loads of people. I might go walking around in the rain or catch-up on some movies and stuff. I don't want to go holidaying by myself somewhere, because let's face it, that's sad, no matter the holiday. I guess I might just stay in and play xbox or write or something. 

Balls...

Carpe diem...