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I have been finding life a little hard recently. I have been recovering from a severe bout of depression, cryptic messages from an Ex, and a huge work load. On top of this I have been having the old "existential crisis" panic that returns to me every so often. Its not so much that I dont know what I want to do with my life, Im enjoying playing Music, activism and my friends, but Im feeling very isolated in my search for meaning. My parents are on the other side of the world, and Im becoming increasingly aware of my own morality. I no longer drink excessively, and have quit smoking, as these addictions are negative in their patterns.
What I want to regain is my passion for life, my love for nature, beauty, art, music, the world, its people, religion, philosophy, stories, paintings, songs and everything the universe has to offer. Im not sure how to do this though, I feel really trapped in Sheffield at the moment. Well really, I feel trapped inside myself, Im terrified to take responsibility for my own actions, so im rooted to the spot with fear. 
Do the thing you love in life as much as possible, and only ever do the things you need to if it will get you closer to achieving your goals. 
Im not sure how to regain the love, the naivety and the passion I had for life. Hopefully a long break, and some good gigs will sort everything out. Also, isnt this bloody lovely;
Those hours, that with gentle work did frame
The lovely gaze where every eye doth dwell,
Will play the tyrants to the very same
And that unfair which fairly doth excel;
For never-resting time leads summer on
To hideous winter, and confounds him there;
Sap checked with frost, and lusty leaves quite gone,
Beauty o'er-snowed and bareness every where:
Then were not summer's distillation left,
A liquid prisoner pent in walls of glass,
Beauty's effect with beauty were bereft,
Nor it, nor no remembrance what it was:
   But flowers distilled, though they with winter meet,
   Leese but their show; their substance still lives sweet.

Look after yourself

A poem about self-love, very important!

Take care of yourself
dont end up a mess
and those who seek to hurt you
no longer cause strife and stress

Spend each day loving yourself
more and more and more
until a wave of realization
creeps upon your shore

And those who seek to harm you
can never speak again
as their own anger has been realised
and burnt upon your flame

and you know the love deep inside
is like a fire, burning ever-bright
so you can help those close to you
turn to see thier light
For those who haven't read "The Second Sex" by Simone de Beauvoir you should do, it is a truly fascinating read. Her main aim is to prove that gender is a social construct and describe what it is to be a woman. Readers must remind themselves that her existentialist philosophy, hatred of Freud and indeed the cultural heritages of her time, defined who she was and what she had to say. As philosophical feminist works go, it is incredible in being both accessible, informative, sociological, and truly ground breaking!  
Yet from a contemporary perspective, it is easy to see many things that are wrong with it. I am going to be discussing her chapter on Lesbianism. I didnt enjoy reading this part of her work at all!
I will post up my article next week!


My parents came over today for a few hours to say goodbye. They leave for australia tomoz. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=el4eUKmLujg

On meeting my idol

Ok so last night I saw like the best live act EVER. The Jezables are amazing, seriously go download everything they have ever written, you will love it trust me. My favorite is Mace Spray. So I met the lead singer Hayley, flirted with her and gave her my bands, Brave New Storms, demo. LOVELY NIGHT. It was very inspiring watching a band like this, who are so raw yet so real. The lyrics obviously come from a very sore place, slipping between heartfelt pleading to symbolic representations. The entire audience was completely taken away with the music, so amazing! Hayley and the rest of the band were lovely as well, we had a good chat about feeling vulnerable on stage! All the time I was undressing her with my eyes......

A Poem By Ani Defranco

self evident 
listen / mp3

us people are just poems 
we're 90% metaphor 
with a leanness of meaning 
approaching hyper-distillation 
and once upon a time 
we were moonshine 
rushing down the throat of a giraffe 
yes, rushing down the long hallway 
despite what the p.a. announcement says 
yes, rushing down the long stairs 
with the whiskey of eternity 
fermented and distilled 
to eighteen minutes 
burning down our throats 
down the hall 
down the stairs 
in a building so tall 
that it will always be there 
yes, it's part of a pair 
there on the bow of noah's ark 
the most prestigious couple 
just kickin back parked 
against a perfectly blue sky 
on a morning beatific 
in its indian summer breeze 
on the day that america 
fell to its knees 
after strutting around for a century 
without saying thank you 
or please

and the shock was subsonic 
and the smoke was deafening 
between the setup and the punch line 
cuz we were all on time for work that day 
we all boarded that plane for to fly 
and then while the fires were raging 
we all climbed up on the windowsill 
and then we all held hands 
and jumped into the sky

and every borough looked up when it heard the first blast 
and then every dumb action movie was summarily surpassed 
and the exodus uptown by foot and motorcar 
looked more like war than anything i've seen so far 
so far 
so far 
so fierce and ingenious 
a poetic specter so far gone 
that every jackass newscaster was struck dumb and stumbling 
over 'oh my god' and 'this is unbelievable' and on and on 
and i'll tell you what, while we're at it 
you can keep the pentagon 
keep the propaganda 
keep each and every tv 
that's been trying to convince me 
to participate 
in some prep school punk's plan to perpetuate retribution 
perpetuate retribution 
even as the blue toxic smoke of our lesson in retribution 
is still hanging in the air 
and there's ash on our shoes 
and there's ash in our hair 
and there's a fine silt on every mantle 
from hell's kitchen to brooklyn 
and the streets are full of stories 
sudden twists and near misses 
and soon every open bar is crammed to the rafters 
with tales of narrowly averted disasters 
and the whiskey is flowin 
like never before 
as all over the country 
folks just shake their heads
and pour

so here's a toast to all the folks who live in palestine 

el salvador

here's a toast to the folks living on the pine ridge reservation 
under the stone cold gaze of mt. rushmore

here's a toast to all those nurses and doctors 
who daily provide women with a choice 
who stand down a threat the size of oklahoma city 
just to listen to a young woman's voice

here's a toast to all the folks on death row right now 
awaiting the executioner's guillotine 
who are shackled there with dread and can only escape into their heads 
to find peace in the form of a dream

cuz take away our playstations 
and we are a third world nation 
under the thumb of some blue blood royal son 
who stole the oval office and that phony election 
i mean 
it don't take a weatherman 
to look around and see the weather 
jeb said he'd deliver florida, folks 
and boy did he ever

and we hold these truths to be self evident: 
#1 george w. bush is not president 
#2 america is not a true democracy 
#3 the media is not fooling me 
cuz i am a poem heeding hyper-distillation 
i've got no room for a lie so verbose 
i'm looking out over my whole human family 
and i'm raising my glass in a toast

here's to our last drink of fossil fuels 
let us vow to get off of this sauce 
shoo away the swarms of commuter planes 
and find that train ticket we lost 
cuz once upon a time the line followed the river 
and peeked into all the backyards 
and the laundry was waving 
the graffiti was teasing us 
from brick walls and bridges 
we were rolling over ridges 
through valleys 
under stars 
i dream of touring like duke ellington 
in my own railroad car 
i dream of waiting on the tall blonde wooden benches 
in a grand station aglow with grace 
and then standing out on the platform
and feeling the air on my face

give back the night its distant whistle 
give the darkness back its soul 
give the big oil companies the finger finally 
and relearn how to rock-n-roll 
yes, the lessons are all around us and a change is waiting there 
so it's time to pick through the rubble, clean the streets 
and clear the air 
get our government to pull its big dick out of the sand 
of someone else's desert 
put it back in its pants 
and quit the hypocritical chants of 
freedom forever

cuz when one lone phone rang 
in two thousand and one 
at ten after nine 
on nine one one 
which is the number we all called 
when that lone phone rang right off the wall 
right off our desk and down the long hall 
down the long stairs 
in a building so tall 
that the whole world turned 
just to watch it fall 

and while we're at it 
remember the first time around? 
the bomb? 
the ryder truck? 
the parking garage? 
the princess that didn't even feel the pea? 
remember joking around in our apartment on avenue D?

can you imagine how many paper coffee cups would have to change their design 
following a fantastical reversal of the new york skyline?!

it was a joke, of course 
it was a joke 
at the time 
and that was just a few years ago 
so let the record show 
that the FBI was all over that case 
that the plot was obvious and in everybody's face 
and scoping that scene 
the CIA 
or is it KGB? 
committing countless crimes against humanity 
with this kind of eventuality 
as its excuse 
for abuse after expensive abuse 
and it didn't have a clue 
look, another window to see through 
way up here 
on the 104th floor 
another key 
another door 
10% literal 
90% metaphor 
3000 some poems disguised as people
on an almost too perfect day 
should be more than pawns 
in some asshole's passion play 
so now it's your job 
and it's my job 
to make it that way 
to make sure they didn't die in vain 
baby listen 
hear the train?

It Gets Better

I have just got home from an amazing talk about gay and trans rights at my university. I dont know if its the same for you, but I often forget my struggles, and the struggles of my brothers and sisters, I become complacent. I forget how hard it was for me growing up in a highly conservative area of Lincolnshire, and how hard it contiunes to be for LGBT people across the world. So I thought it would be a good idea to document my experiences, and then people who suffer the same, can understand more about the ignorant people who hurt them. I firmly believe that it is through education and experiences that we become better people, so listen to my story! hopefully it will help some kids out in their time of need, god knows with LGBT kids committing suicide we need hope now more than anything else.

Where I grew up, the school I went to and the friends I had were not even LGBT aware. Picture a drab, dull and uninspiring part of the world, grey buildings and grey faces, this is Louth (my hometown). The people were unhappy, the conversation bland and the views backwards. I immediately did not fit in, with my boyish looks, short hair and fierce ambition. As a gay kid, even when i was unaware of sexuality, I knew something was wrong with the way people acted around me. I wasn't straight, I just didn't know it. I wanted to hang with boys, play football, excel in academia, and kiss the girls. I didn't even know what gay was until I was 16, the little bits I did know told me it was weird, alien and unwanted. I was taught both at school and church that being gay was unnatural, and the word "gay" was and still is associated with something negative. I was gay and in love with my best friend, she was beautiful! I had no idea what to do, and I battled against not only the bullying from other kids, but the horror of my own mind. The notion that i might fancy a girl made me feel Ill, and I rejected myself for several years. At school during a maths lesson, a kid had shouted homophobic abuse at some poor camp kid, and the teacher let it slide. Disgusting, I was even disgusted then. The result of this was several years of unhappiness, lots of poetry writing and escaping that dreadful town. I survived that place only because of the love of my family and some close friends. My family never taught me anything about LGBT affairs, which they should have, but non the less they were very accepting people, and loved meeting my girlfriends from then on. The days in which I was picked on in classrooms because of being gay, are now over. They have made me stronger, more accepting and more successful. i got into the university I want, and I believe myself to have a happy and expressive life, even though it took me a long time to get there. I am who I am because of my past, and though I find it impossible to forgive those who torment me, I have great love for myself. If you are being bullied, don't give up. it got better for me, it will get better for you. The horro you feel for yourself is wrong, love yourself. It is the homophobes who are wrong. There will be a time when you can take your life into your own hands, and make of it what you wish. The world is still going to be shity, but you can create a beautiful life for yourself. There will be homophobic people, they are wrong, they are insecure and we will stamp them out. It got better for me, it will get better for you. Learn more about the world, learning and education has given me the words to express my life, my story, and understand my LGBT history. 

And I grew weary of the sun

Inspired by Yeats:) 

The sweetest cider doesn’t taste as it should

The brightest flower never blooms if it could

And I grew weary of the sun

With each passing day your gone

The hollowest chords can never fill the air

And the ripest fruit will never taste so fair

And I grew weary of the sun

With each passing day your gone

I will write you a letter

I will write you a letter

As the fiery bombs blast the night sky

My mind turns to you and my soul it does sigh

Your last kiss feels so far away, my lips still moist

From the time I held you close at night

And I write to you a letter

Of the things I think feel and say

And my dreams turn to your pale skin

As the earth’s turning takes me away

Don’t you fret my dear, as the next ship sails away

My body will be yonder, but my heart will never leave you

No my heart must ever leave you, so it stays

In my dreams at night I swear I can see you

So please wait for me on the other side

If i cross a path where you cannot follow

I don’t wanna see you die

And I write to you a letter

Of the things I think feel and say

And my dreams turn to your pale skin

As the earth’s turning takes me away

Don’t you fret my dear, as the next ship sails away

My body will be yonder, but my heart will never leave you

No my heart must ever leave you, so it stays

Think of the lonely hearts, all sat in a grey city line

We will never be like this, for your heart is mine

Let you heart scream for me, for mine will hear its call

Don’t you fret my dear, as the next ship sails away

My body will be yonder, but my heart will never leave you

No my heart must ever leave you, so it stays

Watch Myself Burn

Watch Myself Burn

Through almond eyes I watch myself swim the river of my mind

With a snapping, gnawing at my back telling me it’s all lies

And I spit fire from pursed lips watching galloping stallions

Bring up dust, with a whole world at my feet.

Through the rolling sea, waves come crashing down on me,

In between our dreams, whilst we tell ourselves fantasies

And with lovers undercover who haunt yesteryear

We make babbling gossip out of cheap fairy tales.

So I tie myself down

And watch myself burn

My flesh speaking to unknown worlds

Abandon all hope ye who enter, for the dice in games we play are loaded,

Like the poison on her serene lips so you can’t even think of the future

Whilst my green eyes turn towards a new dawn

A Brave New Storm erupts on the horizon

And from up high I watch myself burn across the nights sky

So I tie myself down

And watch myself burn

I’m breathing fire

I will never die

But I watch myself burn



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November 2012



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