Stress Levels...

Do you know some people think I'm stressed? 

Apparently I'm quite cool in the waking world. I know my shit, I can fly with the best of them (and that's not street), and yet I have awful dreams and nightmares, I continue to bite my tongue in my sleep, and I can't eat anything without feeling quite ill. Perhaps I'll just stick to coffee and milkshakes. Who needs food anyway?

Pill, DarkHorse and I went to the pub last night to watch the game. It was nice, and it wasn't too busy. I was nearly asleep in my chair when the full-time whistle was blown. I have no idea why I zonked out so much, but the walk home woke me up for another three hours. 

Everytime I think about writing now it calms me. Well, not calms me. I start thinking about a world that's not our own, and a place that I control, and where the possibilities are becoming more and more plausible each day. They're not, but you know what I mean I hope. It's been the tiniest of sparks in my life of work and play, and it's certainly something new to focus on. 

I know I've started sounding like a madman recently. And 'one of those people' who talk about their books all the time, but I honestly don't mean to. There are lots and lots of scenes in my head just playing over and over, each time perfecting themselves, and the nasty ones get worse. Perhaps that's where the nightmares come from. 

I might go back on the Kalms. We'll see what happens tonight. 

Carpe Diem...

Armistice...

Am I really that guy that just writes and writes to get inspiration that isn't around the corner, but will inevitably let you know that he's been writing because he has a blog? This, and many more questions, are still floating around my head after last night's drinking session.

But first let me tell you how I lured Red into having drinks with me on Friday night. Yes, it was entirely intentional, and yes, there was no other motive to the trap. Opting for the Bay rather than Friday Night Rugby Filled Centre (that sounds like a bad doughnut) we wondered in the rain to the Jenkins where a round of drinks was purchased and a chat was had about everything and anything and mostly about the loud mouth who sat behind us. Thankfully he left a short while after I had made it clear I disproved of his loudness. Either way, deciding we were hungry, we left the premises to discover the new Chippy down the Bay, and man were they good, and instead of staying in the warm and comfy booths (candle lit yo) we wondered out into the Bay and found the bench we had found ourselves on many Moons ago talking about anything and everything. We reminisced, watched some fireworks, and ate our chips before heading home.

Saturday Night was my Italian Mama's Birthday, at which I got very drunk from the Clarey Vintage (homemade wine) and listened about far too much family history, from where my Great Grandfather used to live in Cardiff, to bouts of depression throughout the family (the ups and the downs). And there I was also told to inform everyone that they were more than welcome at my Mothers (plural) homes for Christmas and that there was plenty of room and food for them all - I doubt that, but it would be a big family Christmas that hasn't ever happened before ever to my family. Either way, the plan offended a few and I'm just getting most fed up of this talk of Christmas and Birthdays, because I'm not going to make anyone happy what so ever. There's a likelihood that I will be working both Christmas Eve and Boxing Day so why am I going anywhere? As we all know the earliest I'll have to be in work on Boxing Day is 9am and the latest 9:30am. 

And last night I must not have been in the right mindset or something because birthdays and Christmas and other such topics just didn't interest me. Too much playing on my mind already. Tag's denied his mother twice now for Christmas: 

There's clearly no where else she would rather be, than with you her only son!

I had a weird dream last night too. It was a sort of Robocop meets Wizard of Oz meets Frankenstein thing. I think I must have been the patient, or having an out of body experience, when I see these other men with robotic limbs and stuff like that. One has a RoboBrain, another an Arm, and there was one with a Leg, and the nurses sat them down and detached them and removed my body parts to attach them to me. It was horrible, and they gave my parts to the RoboMen leaving me like a piece of scrap. I didn't appreciate it, and woke up very much tired, and in no mood to do anything. 

I just need to empty my mind of worry, anger, and things that aren't or didn't happen. It's not a healthy way to be. I'll be pushing people away very soon (attention seeking as always).

I doubt there'll be a Carpe diem today...

Flu Dreams...

I think I've got a terrible case of Morning Flu...

Heavy eyes, blocked nose, headache, all the attractive features of death warmed up. But who cares? I've got another day of work ahead of me, and then another, and then I'm off. And in between each I believe I've got plans, how cool is that? I love it when a plan comes together...

So, I was talking to my Mother the other day and she was saying how we could go for a meal next Wednesday, and this got me thinking. Yes we could, ma Famille, and more of ma Famille. What say you? And yes, I am sort of inviting you to something that may or may not happen...

Let me know...

I've got a few grand ideas for my 25th though, and I'm going to put them here, because I'll have won the lottery by then and I'll be able to do all of the below...

I'm thinking either Coopers Field or Roald Dahl Plaza and a big Circus tent will be erected (giggity) there. And that's when all the chairs and table will be placed, and all the food will be put on those tables. There'll be a hog roast with buns and crackling, and there's going to be casks of beer and ale and crates of wine. There'll be lanterns and the trees, or the Torchwood Hub, will be decorated in lights as well, and when the band begins to play all the guests will arrive and be all Hobbity - oh yes, Hobbit Barn Dance Mark-II. Now that's a dream party I think, if a little geeky and somewhat out of the box or not, how many people do this sort of thing?

Of course, money is the helper here.

But all that talk of Hobbits, really makes me want to watch the Lord of the Rings. Everyone keeps mentioning it, but when's it going to happen?! God Damn! (summer in the city - its like verbal masturbation saying it to myself)...

My brother said the best thing to me last night, and it's probably not going to be the same if I tell you now, but let me try...

Mum asked me why I wasn't going to buy you a card, and I said, well Mum, its because your generation messed up the economy so much that my generation doesn't feel the need to buy a piece of paper that will only end up in the bin.

Very wise words from the quick witted giant I think...

Anywho, I've rambled on far too long with this headache I think, Carpe diem to the pain meds!...

Adventures Await...

I've had a recurring dream for the past couple of weeks now, which is odd, since I don't normally dream...

I'm wandering down corridors and corridors, just on going. I'm either with Cherry, Tag, or Red and combinations of the three, and then the corridors start looking like Diagon Ally, and start having shop windows and a glass ceiling letting in more light than shops. It's weird. And then the corridors start widening and start looking a lot like some of the many arcades in the city. Each with a crossroads, and then people start appearing. Hooded, robed, sometimes just norms. I don't know any of them, its like some Inception shit. And most recently, with Cherry and Red, I followed them, and they turned left at one of the crossroads and it led us outside, into the gardens. And I think they were a mix and mash up of gardens from Versailles to St. Fagans. I don't think they mean anything, they're just rather nice to experience.

I'm going to have to cut this blog short again today, because time is, yet again, against me. Tag is coming over in 15 mins, and then we both have our daily commitments to endure before DarkHorse's party in the Valleys. 

It'll be interesting, and I don't know what we'll end up doing. Probably running back to the city, because small towns creepy us out now. I haven't been up there in a year, it'll be nice to see the green mountains again (hills, sorry Cherry). Take me to see some real mountains then. And I'll take you to Tintern Abbey and a load of castles and an island full of puffins.

We've all got our places. And I hope to share mine with you guys (alright, gay).

Carpe diem...

A Two Toast Day...

Well, as the title says, today was and is a two-toast day.

Before we get started today I would like to inform you that on the 21st Sept 2011 you can have the opportunity to run around Carmarthen shooting Zombies with Nerf Guns, and completely kicking ass or getting munched. If you would like tickets for this event they are available here and the full rules and terms and conditions are there as well. If you would like to be a volunteer, you can sign on there too (you'll be getting in for free) and if you wish to compete then tickets are £10 and you must be over the age of 16. Okay?

Moving on to toast...

For those of you who don't know what this means, and I'm going to presume that's all of you, a two-toast day is a day where you need to start out by eating two portions of toast. Hence a two-toast day. Now you might think this would be something to do with preparing for the day ahead. Well you'd be wrong...

Two-toast days are for the rough night you had previously. And now I know what you're all thinking.

'He drank a little too much.'

Well will you change your mind if I say I've been having a lot of rough nights recently? Pretty much every night since getting back from university.

'You're an alcoholic, you need to see someone. There are meetings you can go to.'

No, I've not been drinking...

'We never took you for a homeless man or a gigolo!'

No I'm not one of those either. I've just become a bad sleeper.

'Oooooh.'

I don't know whether it's because of the stresses of life or because as a writer I'm not happy with anything I've written, or whatever. I just don't know.

'But you're not as bad a sleeper as I am.'

Don't you think I know that?! I'm sleeping okay, though perhaps the dreams aren't helping. I never used to dream, it's quite a recent development. And they should be happy dreams as well, but I'm probably reading them all wrong and torturing myself. It's the getting off to sleep I'm having difficulty with. I shut everything down, log off everything, switch everything off, sort of early nowadays (12:30ish pm of course) and just try to sleep, and feel my mind thinking about these things, and the next time I know it, it's light outside and I'm still trying to nod off. Well last night was quite bad, but it got worse when my mother decided to have a text-conversation with me at 8:30am and then told me to go do some washing.

And can I say, I am tired. Today is a two-toast day. I have decided that today I will be doing some writing and reading eventually. But definitely some xbox - I've recently gotten back into Mass Effect 2 - and playing through it I'm actually realising how excited I am for Mass Effect 3 - it's gonna be A-MAZING!

In other news, I can't help but notice that, despite my nine devoted followers (Hi Guys, love you all) I'm getting over twenty views per blog. Now, either my nine devoted followers have been reading this blog too enthusiastically, or there are other people reading. I see you, you know I do! So I have an ask of those invisible readers, comment below and let me know you're reading and I'll give you a shout-out and your very own codename in the very next blog. And perhaps I'll be making a story staring all you lovely people, even my regulars. Let me know you care, and I'll make you the protagonists of the next blog story. Who knows. I've got nothing better to do after all.

And, as always, if you liked reading this most enjoyable, if quite rant-filled and depressing, blog then by all means press the 'join this site' or 'follow' buttons to your right, and if you especially liked this then share it with your friends by pressing the appropriate Social Networking Site also on your right.

Now I leave you with something that we're loving today, right now this second - 'OH I LOVE BIRDSSSSSSS!

Carpe diem, until next time bloggers...

P.S. I didn't get my letter, and I'm not on the Hogwarts express again *sad eyes*

Dreamland Adventures...

Well I just woke up from a lovely, if very peculiar dream...

All was quiet, I was doing housework. The television was on, and the person next door was using a chainsaw...

Now I don't know about this fact because the person next door in reality is an OAP, I suppose she could own and operate a chainsaw.

Either way, turning round I realise that my sitting room is full of my University Flatmates - odd I know. And we must have ordered chinese, because I walked past my friends and into the porch where I saw a purple people carrying vehicle stop abruptly and the two indian versions of bill and ben raced down my driveway and smacked into my glass fronted door....

We used to have a glass fronted door, until I put my steel-toe-capped-boots through one of them - this was an accident. We don't have glass fronted doors anymore.

Moving on, we thought it was going to be a nice round £20, but Bill and Ben had decided £16. Quite pleased, I exchanged the money and they gave me their entire change tin. I doubted there was just £4 change in there so I think I took it. Getting in and dividing up the food we realised that it wasn't all accounted for, or that is Wodge ate HB Sauce's Wonton Noodles - why wontons are in noodles, don't ask me. We called the chinese back, and said that they had missed out one of our dishes, and they delivered promptly...

Now I don't quite know what happens next, but bare with it.

It was now either late at night, or just twilight still, I think the sitting room curtains were shut. And HB and I were talking, and I said something smart and snarky, and she smiled and tried to punch me, but I defended myself with a pillow - at least I thought it was a pillow, it seemed more like a full travel vacuum bag. Anyway, Tag and Cherrybelly were then dressed up in oversized suits, they were either Sherlock Holmes, or the Thompsons from Tin Tin. Cherrybelly had the oversized collar as well. It was an amusing sight, but I saw them climbing a dreamy hill, with trees and a cliff for some reason. And then HB said something about a 'date' and 'friday' but I couldn't understand her. And she pointed to the Olive trees, one at the top of my street, the other right next to me...

Now where I was in comparison to anywhere else, that would have been a terribly inappropriate place to plant an Olive Tree, on some 18th Century Furniture, but there you go, this is dreamland.

And as she pointed to them she said she could change them, and the Olive Tree turned into a Crab Tree. I don't know why. Crab meat is very nice I suppose. The chainsawing began all over again, and the purple people carrier arrived and I woke up.

Now if you know anything about dreams, then you should probably leave a comment down below in the comments bit.

If you liked reading this most enjoyable blog then by all means press the 'join this site' or 'follow' buttons to your right, and if you especially liked this I would appreciate it if you would share this with your friends by pressing the appropriate Social Networking Site also on your right.

Carpe diem, until next time bloggers...

Ice Creams and the Art of Bending Over...

Today is a very pretty day. Today is very warm. Today I went to town.

Well, when I say went to town, I mean I walked, and when I say I, I mean we. For it was I and some flatmates (Tag, Bells, and Scurvy). And we thought the need for ice cream was indeed needed. And Thorntons do some great ice cream.

But less of that. I'm well today. Despite on the way back from said town I injured my back by either bending too low or standing too wide for a quick duck under a fence. It ached quite a bit, and all the way up the stairs, and when I unlocked the door, and when I showered, and as I sit here now. Oh well, at least I'm writing.

And now we return to the 'writing for the sake of writing' thing. Here being a 'Creative Writing' Student, you'd think I'd have had enough of writing for writing's sake. The truth: NO! Not only don't we do enough, writing for writing's sake, but they also expect us to explain and analyse what ever we do write for writing's well not sake, let's call it purpose. It's silly really. But then I don't have to complain about it for a fair few months yet when year 3 comes about.

Moving on to a deeper conversation:

I've noticed recently that most of my friends, and indeed myself, have lost or are losing someone this year. I know that might be insensitive of me to say, but it's true. And it's made me think about my own mortality. Earlier in the week - before I created this blog, I wrote about such the topic in my notebook:

'The words on a page, they mean nothing, they mean everything. We write to show things, to feel things, to know things. 'Time is an illusion, Lunchtime doubly so.' This is a Douglas Adams quote. But why? I'm not saying he's a lucky and intelligent man, but I am suggesting it. Douglas Adams was a legend, is a legend.

'Where am I going with this? I don't know. Something to do with writing for the sake of writing [...]

(There it is again, it's like Bad Wolf or something - Hi Tag. Anyway Continuing on.)

'[...] Have you ever heard of those monkeys who write Shakespeare. This is like that. I'm writing until I write that line of brilliance, that one line which will be quoted though the ages - that line like 'Eureka' or 'Hello' or that Douglas Adams line about time [...]

(Okay, they were more like words, if you need examples go find them for yourselves - I'm just quoting myself and I'm not going to edit it!)

'[...] I don't know. I really want to be remembered by other people, other than my friends and family. I just want to be remembered by the world. How can I do that? Make a movie? Cure world hunger? Cure all diseases? Make the third world just a part of the world? To become immortal. What is that? My father always told my sister, brother, and I that he was immortal. He was immortal because he had us. And we would take his genes and his name on into the future. But then, my father always thought that he wouldn't get married, but then my mother is proof of his false thought. But either way, what is immortality? To last forever. I'm not sure whether or not I'd like to. To be remembered forever, now that's the fame I would like, not like the flatpack celebs of today. Famous for the sake of being famous. I want to be famous because people want me to be famous. And in being famous I will meet people. I hope I've already had an impact on the people I have already met. Some of them say so, but then I don't believe it, ever. I should really ask the people I've met most recently. Perhaps Chaplin [...]

(Okay, I didn't actually call her Chaplin, that's me going back on my word of non-editing. Oh well.)

'[...] would know, but then I only met her for a day and a half - and then there was all that sleep writing thing. Dream Sequences were written because of Chaplin and he whole being. It's quite bizarre for such an infatuation. But then I suppose the same thing happened with Cleever [...]

(Yes okay, I'm mostly editing, but just the names mind. Carry on.)

'[...] They both had boyfriend troubles before they met me. Does that mean I fix other people's relationships? Unintentionally? God damnit, why do I seem to repel pretty women? And not only that, but repair their broken relationships as well???!'

And that is where I got to. I think it might answer some questions about mortality and remembrance. Don't you you?

Anyway, I don't know where I was going with that. Perhaps the next post will include a lot less ranting and raving, and sleep poetry - and might include some actual coherent thoughts on a page. What do you think? You're probably right, it wont.

But that's me, until next time bloggers...