| i will be home then |
[Apr. 12th, 2009|02:16 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | summerish | ] |
| [ | music |
| | the decemberists and that | ] |
At the time, you were a rake and a rastabout.
I'm led on my bed, the sun is streaming through my window. It warms my face as I listen to a strange combination of The Decemberists and the ambient noise of cars and people. The sole of my shoe is peeling away from the leather and my jacket needs dry cleaning. I am happier than I have been in years. |
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| the pepsi album chart |
[Jan. 18th, 2009|05:09 pm] |
This bohemian couch surfing lifestyle is insane. Since Wednesday I have stayed at Andy, Tom, Chris and Mak's, Abi's and Ben's. Tonight I am staying at Katie's. I have also been fed an amazing roast dinner and now I'm just chilling out in the country. Hopefully the house will all be sorted in the next day or so, though. It really is an amazing house - the view from the window is to absolutely die for. Palace Street and the Cathedral. Om nom nom nom.
Hi, by the way. |
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| i poured my heart out over coffee |
[Jan. 5th, 2009|01:44 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | hakfhkasfhkl | ] |
| [ | music |
| | gklsadhgklhsdgkl | ] |
I don't really know what I want to say. I don't know if I want to be cryptic and self indulgent, I don't know if I want to be flighty and whimsical, I don't know if I just want to tell the truth.
It's occured to me lately how I've managed to drive pretty much everyone that I care about away from me, through various ways and means. It's quite the talent. Although it means that now, when I look in the mirror, I'm not entirely sure who I see anymore. Sometimes I wish it could be about two years ago, when everything as wonderful as it has been in a long time.
I've spent the last few days being out of the house as much as humanly possible, and it has, I will admit, been fun. But I can't afford to keep doing that. I need to sit myself down and sort myself the fuck out. THIS IS BORING BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH. |
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| an update of sorts |
[Dec. 23rd, 2008|03:44 pm] |
Everybody and their mother has done this quiz. I too am going to do it, for fear of being shunned from popular society for my lack of meme completing skills. If I'm going to be shunned from society for anything I'd rather like to be something massive, like genocide or a dreadful choice of hat. Of the two, I feel the dreadful choice of hat is more likely; although I'm being careful not to rule anything out.
( Read more... ) |
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| if you walk away, i'll walk away |
[Dec. 14th, 2008|03:16 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | i should be in bed | ] |
| [ | music |
| | bright eyes | ] |
I go on so much about the things that I hate that I feel I should devote some time to things I most certainly do not hate.
I like drawing cartoons on a piece of paper and I like writing words onto my computer, safe in the knowledge that no one will see any of these.
Seeing people in hats, cardigans, gloves and scarves makes me smile. Listening to Tullycraft, Nixon and Conor Oberst makes me smile. Slowly rolling a two pence piece across my knuckles makes me smile, although proves difficult in an increasingly cold bedroom.
I like that September 13th is my annual day for for getting drunk in lieu of November 13th. I like playing poker until 5:30 in the morning and walking home in the sleet. I like it even more when I win. I like the tinny sound of a Casio keyboard and the beautiful songs that they can somehow produce.
I like you. I like sitting on my bed with someone and listening to music. I like swapping music recommendations with people and being genuinely shocked by the quality of what I find. I like my diary.
I like desperately clinging to the past almost as much as I like carelessly moving on. I like Japanese food. I like lyrics more than I like music. I like opening a pack of Wine Gums and discovering the first one is black, and the second one is red.
No, scratch that.
I love opening a pack of Wine Gums and discovering the first one is black, and the second one is red. |
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| to take you home |
[Nov. 28th, 2008|08:26 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | nope | ] |
| [ | music |
| | a patronising american documentary about space and that | ] |
Today I have... no. I feel I must define the word today in a broader context before I can even begin to continue with this. Today is still Thursday in my head, in that strange situation where days don't tick over until you've had a discernable sleep between them - I often wonder if it's wise to extend a weekend to three, or even maybe four days just by staying up and convincing yourself it's still a lazy Sunday evening.
Today began at 1pm, when I was woken by a phonecall from Nick asking if I could come into what I now loosely term work this evening. That, I'm afraid, is pretty much it.
I mean, obviously things have happened. My DJing for an hour to three people in The Foundry being the most traditionally exciting of those, but I had a lot more fun with the other things that happened, the more mundane things. The things that keep a person from going quietly insane.
I invented and then played a game that involved throwing crumpled up beer mats from behind a bar into a metal bowl six, then eight, then ten feet away. I played that for an hour and emerged 1 English Pound up for my troubles. I then taught three people to play poker and was immediately hustled out of the game by a surprisingly adroit French girl. A folk singing session soon followed, which is far more entertaining than many of you may think.
I had an opportunity to go home at this point, and was indeed walking home. But why walk home when you can seek out more friends and spend an hour and a half playing Backgammon and drinking beer? I can literally think of nothing finer to do.
Since then? Smoking. Smoking and thinking and smoking. Bed would seem to be the sensible option, I think. Easier said than done, however.
If you read through all of that and found it as dull as it was to write, you should come to Headrush tonight (I believe today is Friday) and slap me in the face. Thanks. |
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| so simple in the moonlight |
[Nov. 10th, 2008|01:26 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | moribund | ] |
| [ | music |
| | bright eyes | ] |
I feel a million miles away from everything and everyone I know right now.
It's my birthday on Thursday. I will be twenty four years old. I wish I could treat it like it were the first day of my life, come blinking into the dawn and discover a whole new world bristling with endless possibilities. I wish that when someone asked me what I'd achieved with the previous twenty three years I could tell them I'd done something of genuine worth, of genuine value. That I'd followed through on something, that I'd never just stopped when things have become too hard.
So, the question is: what happens when an unstoppable force meets an easily breakable object?
edit: Wow, I just read that back. I'm not much fun anymore, am I? |
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| i just wanna stand outside |
[Oct. 26th, 2008|02:08 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | lovely | ] |
| [ | music |
| | eels | ] |
I am having my weekly listen to Electro-Shock Blues. I suggest you do the same.
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| that's how it starts |
[Oct. 19th, 2008|03:19 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | shattered | ] |
| [ | music |
| | lcd soundsystem | ] |
All My Friends by LCD Soundsystem? Check.
Skinny Love by Bon Iver? Check.
Anyone Else But You by The Moldy Peaches? Check.
Time To Pretend by MGMT? Check.
Expectations by Belle & Sebastian? Check.
Move Bitch by Ludacris? Oh, that's a big check.
Well, that was an incredible night. We finally stopped DJing at around five, and I fell into bed at six. Anyone fancy doing it all again on Friday? I certainly do.
 |
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| anti venom |
[Oct. 10th, 2008|03:38 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  tired | ] |
| [ | music |
| | documentary | ] |
I had to explain to someone tonight why I randomly get into moods. It was hard, hard justifying it to someone who doesn't really know me when I can barely justify it to myself. The reason I came up with tonight was a general sense of disappointment in myself. In my head I'm so dreadful at talking to people that it makes me not talk to people. The fact that I won't talk to people because of this then makes me angry at myself, and it swiftly turns into a bad mood.
I used to be with someone who went out with me solely through seeing me do stand up. She thought that the person she saw onstage was who I was all the time. It's not. It's a character. I'm not that quick, that funny or that upbeat. I'm boring. I read. I'm quiet.
I wish I wasn't.
This, by the way, is nothing compared to other people's problems at the moment. But I needed to put it somewhere. |
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| everyone has to learn sometime |
[Sep. 28th, 2008|06:24 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | jglksdjklsdgjlksd | ] |
| [ | music |
| | lksafksafhsakfhksa | ] |
I haven't done this in a while, have I? Let's all be honest with ourselves though, it's no great loss to anyone. The slow death of this LiveJournal is something that I find relatively sad considering there's five-odd years of history in here, but I can't really do much about it. I go through phases with this thing, so I'm just blindly assuming it will pick up again at some point in the near future.
I am great at the moment. Or I am deeply unhappy at the moment. It depends when you catch me. You know that feeling, like you've been forcibly strapped into a rollercoaster? It's brilliant, flying around corners, your hand covering your mouth in a vain attempt to rescue your heart as you plummet down unimaginable hills. But then it levels off, your pulse rate drops and you can see everything around you come into focus. It's that bit that I don't like.
I have been single for over a year now. That's no massive thing to be: I quite like being single.
It has made me think though, about the reasons why my ex-girlfriend broke up with me, and if I've changed at all. What she would think of me if she met me now. It's not entirely positive, I have to admit. I still moan too much, I'm still immature, I'm still too mean. Plus, I have a whole new raft of things to add to that: I'm now consistently skint, I smoke way too much and I've become strangely paranoid.
I have, however, been making a conscious effort lately to change. I can never tell if it's working, though. Or if people even notice. Blah blah blah. I don't know.
HEY! I'm running a comedy night at The Foundry on October 23rd! You should all come! See, it's not entirely all downbeat! YAY! Etc. |
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| israel beckons me |
[Aug. 29th, 2008|10:27 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  thoughtful | ] |
| [ | music |
| | dreadful television | ] |
What am I?
I am balding, I am tall, I am getting thin, I am lost, I am here, I am lonely, I am surrounded by friends, I have been a vegetarian for eleven days, I am a poorly photocopied version of the people I admire, I am intelligent but upsettingly dumb. I am all of these things and so many more.
I think I know a lot about most things but I secretly hate that I don't know everything about anything. My knowledge is arcane, restricted to historical curios and spreadsheet-like banks of music and football facts. It cannot be used to impress, only to win arguments. Only to win arguments and portray myself as a pretentious cunt on LiveJournal. I think I am talented but have been told otherwise enough times to change my mind.
I feel like I should get out more, but don't like admitting that the outside can scare me. I would smoke continuously if I could. I owe a bank £3500 and they want it back now. I want to contribute more to society, but can't get my head around the fact that volunteers don't get paid. I feel like I should talk less and say more. I feel like I should always be the one to fill silences, but I know I have nothing to say. I'm afraid I dont know how to have grown-up, interesting conversations. I am getting bored of listing things on LiveJournal.
Mostly, I am afraid that after sitting down to write, this dross is all I could come up with. I had already written something much better about how I felt like a supply teacher, but the internet died and deleted it. It was a bit too self-idulgent anyway, and made it sound like I was actually a supply teacher. If you had read it, however, you would have all agreed it was an absolutely excellent metaphor. Anyway. Sorry. |
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| hands in my empty pockets |
[Aug. 25th, 2008|02:02 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | back pain | ] |
| [ | music |
| | setanta news | ] |
It's the August Bank Holiday, and by all rights I should be out somewhere right now, possibly drunk. However, through a foolish combination of paying bills and going out last night I am now totally skint. I can see your twisted, shocked faces right now as you reel in surprise at that fact.
So here's a survey. Yay.
Oh, fuck this. There's a million more questions. Sorry you had to read this, folks. |
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| ludlow street boys |
[Aug. 18th, 2008|11:04 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | emaline | ] |
| [ | music |
| | ben folds | ] |
Being in a house with no internet, no proper television, no hot water and no food is something of a double edged sword. On the upside, if we ignore the whole nasty no hot water and no food thing, it's lovely to have so much time to yourself to just think. On the downside, if we ignore the whole nasty no hot water and no food thing, it's horrible to have so much time to yourself to just think.
This is where I'm currently at: I've decided that I have become a burden. Not on society as, although I don't contribute much to the smooth running of this country, I don't really take much either. More so on my friends, however. I can't help but shake the feeling that some people just hang out with me due to a strange sense of duty, like they're doing it because they remember back in the day when I used to be entertaining and self-sufficient, not just a depressing leech with a trampish beard. This has absolutely nothing to do with drunken conversation that I relatively soberly overheard, although that may have acted as a catalyst. I think, although I'm never sure, it's time I stepped back a little.
So I'm not really sure where this leaves me, to be honest. Dan is going away for a few weeks on Friday, so I can be at least sure it leaves me back in this house with no internet, no proper television, no hot water and no food. Anything else is just up to me, I guess.
Also, I think I'm getting too fond of that bookending technique. It makes my writing predictable. |
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| what i would give not to stumble |
[Aug. 16th, 2008|02:53 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | football | ] |
| [ | music |
| | football | ] |
If music was the food of love, then I'd be a fat romantic slob.
The wind is changing: I can feel it. Summer is dying out as we march gravely into Autumn. If Spring is the season of rebirth then, logically, Autumn is the season of death. It seems that we've been somewhat short-changed when it comes to summer, fleeting weeks of beauty here and there and nothing else, but I can't help but think that maybe this isn't such a bad thing. Maybe some things need to die.
This has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that I think I look a lot better in winter clothes; clashing layers, long coats and scarves.
I went back to Wales recently to try and pull my head together. That's such a melodramatic thing to say, as if I were clawing onto the internet with long yellowing nails for some manner of insincere sympathy, but it's also true. Not the mention the fact that I'm genuinely not above an attention fishing attempt at melodrama. It was absolutely needed, though. Mere moments after coming in through the door to my house I was asked "Have you any plans for while you're at home, then?" and had the pleasure of being able to reply "No. Not one.".
I'm assuming it's common knowledge that I spend a disproportionate amount of time sitting around doing nothing, but being able to sit around and do nothing whilst genuinely on my own was something of a joy to me. I'd readily admit that five days of it is enough, but it was like being at some kind of Tibetan retreat, far up in cloud shrouded mountains. Except with more sheep and screaming Welsh harpies.
Obviously I managed to bollocks it up within minutes of coming home by going out and being myself, but it's the thought that counts. It's the thought that has made me decide to kick smoking on the head, and to severely cut down on my drinking. It's the thought that's made me decide to put a full stop at the end of one chapter on my life and to move on to a new chapter.
I intend it to start like this:
"Joshua sighed, rapping his fingers across the hard spine of his book. He briefly considered turning the beat into that of a galloping horse, but was distracted by the happy chirruping of the doorbell..."
Who's at the door? Fuck knows. |
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| two wolves |
[Aug. 8th, 2008|03:00 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  full | ] |
| [ | music |
| | sky cinema screen 1 | ] |
I'm lying here in bed and I can't hear a thing. I can't hear the guttural roar of lorries endlessly rocking the windows, I can't hear the dull thud of music coming through the wall and I can't hear the endless stream of voices in my head telling me I've fucked up. I can't hear a thing.
I'm lying, of course. I can hear something. I'm watching a film called Still Crazy, which whilst not being one of the best films ever made by quite a long way still has a rather large place in my heart. It was the film I went to see on my 15th birthday for my first date with my first ever proper girlfriend. I do believe we held hands. But you get my point.
I've done things backwards today. I suppose it's somewhat fitting considering how far away from civilization I find myself. The pub beckoned at before midday, increasing levels of drunkeness and a chinese takeaway meant my bed beckoned at 7pm. Now I'm awake again. Hmm.
I'm taking my nephew to Newport County for his first ever football match on Saturday. It's the sort of thing I always think people can't imagine me doing in a million years, but to tell the truth it's the sort of thing I absolutely love doing. I shall buy him a scarf and explain the rules and be an all-round excellent uncle. In between bouts of dreadful footballer inspired apoplexy.
I think I'll be ready to come back on Monday. I'm not sure I know what that means at the moment, but it feels right. Time to put my best foot forward and just fucking go for it.
Ramble ramble ramble.
Anyway, how are you? |
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| go to sleep now, little ugly |
[Jul. 25th, 2008|11:04 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | too hot | ] |
| [ | music |
| | nothing | ] |
Something something something angst something something hungry something something futile something something something uncomfortable something something block something something hot something something something something SOMETHING.
Yeah.
The gist of it is, if you could run away and totally reinvent yourself, would you? |
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alonza's journal
