“Waiting for the stars to align, there is a restless rain cloud in my mind. Heavy eyes fixed in the middle of the room.”

5 01 2013

Many have frequently stated that you must suffer for your art. I’m unsure how true this is, or if I even believe it. Surely if you are a good writer or painter, you can place yourself in various positions without having to hit rock bottom. You can empathise with those who are in a dark place rather than torturing yourself on a daily basis.

I write songs/poems. I personally think they are bloody awful. I don’t show them because I don’t want anyone to see how shit they are. However, I do have some stupid dream of having them published in a book one day. I haven’t done anything about it because the fear of rejection plagues me more than I want it to not because I am lazy. Some of what I have written is quite dark, but not because I feel so utterly hopeless and depressed. I know what depression. I’ve seen what it does to people, and I’ve never felt like that. People who say they are depressed but can still go out and function aren’t depressed. You cannot move, you cannot do a thing; that’s depression. My gran had it before I was born, and a bit when I was younger. Friends have battled with it, and there is nothing you can do but watch helplessly hoping one day it leaves them alone so they can go back to being the person they once were. You don’t need to be in love to write about love. Feelings of love and joy can fill you by watching a certain film, listening to a certain song or gazing at a piece of art. It is everywhere. Everything and nothing can be inspiring.

Being able to put yourself in the mind-set of others teaches you to be a more accepting and gentle person. I’ll happily be the first to admit that I am far too sensitive. I know I need to toughen up, but it just will not ever happen. I cannot be cruel to get something I want. I cannot harm someone on purpose; I’d rather just hug everyone instead. I’d like to think one day that being a gentle soul will go in my favour. Until then, I wait. Or just accept it. Same thing I suppose.

I’m drawn to the darker things. Dark songs, creepy literature. It is all fascinating. I’m not religious at all (I believe there’s a spiritual being above us all, but not in a powerful sense) but anything that questions God or whatever in songs really gets my attention. That’s why I love bands like Dum Dum Girls, Crocodiles and The Long Wives. There are religious references, but not in a “I BELIEVE IN GOD AND YOU MUST TOO” kind of way; far from it. I am all for people questioning each other in a non-threatening manner. I’m not religious but that doesn’t mean I’m going to belittle someone who does. We all have our own things to believe in; nobody should ever try to shy someone away from what they believe in. Unless it means promoting hatred and intolerance, then I’ve got an issue with it.

I honestly had no point in writing this. I never do. It’s a cheap outlet I suppose, as always. I just thin we need to stop thinking we must feel low and hopeless in order to achieve something great. You can function being a happy person. But it seems, when you are happy people have an issue with it. Yet when you feel like shit, people may deem you as being draining. You cannot win, so forget them. Yet I know it is hard. You do not need to suffer in order to do something of worth. You justify your own worth, not the objects and people that surround you.

That’ll do for now.





“Vicious, you hit me with a flower. You do it every hour. Oh, baby you’re so vicious.”

13 08 2012

Patience can be a weakness or it can be a strength. People will use it against you. People will always for the most part, use your good traits against you. Example, say if you have a kind heart- people will bruise it. If you seem to be the kind to help others, they will take advantage. What good comes from being bad? I wish I was tough, but then if I was I wouldn’t be who I am. And who I am, well I don’t know if it is good or bad. My heart is too big, and I should break away some pieces so it shrinks and contains all that matters. What exactly matters? Well, you can only find that in your heart. So maybe I’d be defeating the object if I did something like that.

You give parts of you away. Sometimes you give them to the wrong ones, sometimes you give them to the good ones. Maybe you only learn your lesson when it is too late. You can go back in time in your head which causes you to break your own heart. Then what do you do? You simply owe it to yourself to not mourn the things you had no control over. We all seek some form of control. It can be in good things, it can be in bad things. Do not judge them. Never judge. We’re all different but we all fight to stay alive. Sometimes it can be such a drag, but it’s alright. It’s quite alright.

As I get older, I don’t mind it. I don’t mind it at all. Sure my body feels bruised and broken at times (I think 80 minutes on the treadmill today may be a vital part in this) and my head feels like it may explode from frustration- but if I let it all matter, then I won’t know what to do. You’ve got hide sometimes. The panic attacks may increase over here, but I’ll get out.

So why long for something that just isn’t there? Is it even there? That’s why I love old old old music you know? It is like THEIR frustrations and their love and their lust and all in-between was written in a much deeper tone. It went beyond all that is around now. I mean sure I love the bands I listen to that are new, of course. I love the euphoric journey they send me on. But there is something about hearing something from the 60s about losing something/someone that just sound much more vulnerable than anything around now. I admire anyone who writes so honestly that they are pretty much letting every raw feeling out. Maybe that’s why I write like I do. The things I write here are the things I say to nobody. Why would I? I have no need to. I don’t wish to. I’m too stubborn, but I use it for the good rather than bad. For the most part. I’ll always believe I was born at the wrong time, always. However, I’m not going to dress like a hippie, spin around a few times and hug everyone. No no. I’ll stick to what I wear and listen to what I like.

I have no idea why I wrote any of this, maybe I had to let it out. So to the one person who may happen to read this. I’m sorry, here are some songs to make up for my idiotic ramblings that are far too frequent yet scattered.





Lightnin’ Hopkins.

12 08 2011

Sam John Hopkins aka Lightnin’ Hopkins in my mind, was and always will be THE greatest blues singer ever, and quite possibly one of the greatest guitarists ever.

He sang and wrote about pain in a way that most wish they could. Don’t believe me? Watch this :

Mind-blowing right? Music doesn not have this amount of emotion anymore. There’s no despair like this, and it’s missing. It is needed. Of course we want to hear happy songs, but you need the balance. With extreme awful happy shit you find in Pop music, you need something at the opposite end. The Blues. The Blues is a genre of music that I grew up on, amongst a few others. Punk and the Blues are the two that I always remember hearing a lot of. My music taste is highly influenced by my mum, stepdad and uncle. I do believe I had the best upbringing based on always hearing Morrissey, Lou Reed, Miles Davis and Jefferson Airplane in the house.

Lightnin’ Hopkins sings the pains of having you heart torn out better than most.