Myuh myuh myuh myuh I'm Kieran and I'm miserable 'cause I'm an adult. Fuck you, Kieran. When'd you get so whingey?
The answer is; never. So let's talk about stuff that isn't moping.
I live in a house, full of my friends, and they're all awesome. Every weird thought I've thought about them, due to drugs depression or alcohol, has totally fled. I don't know what more I can ask for; I'm surrounded by people I love who have literally brought me straight around with how awesome they are.
GUYS I LOVE YOU AND I'M SORRY I'M A SHIT.
And I'm not even a shit. I am amazing. This barely updated blog is amazing. My friends are amazing and you are amazing, dear viewer. Everything is great and I don't even have wild bipolar. I'm basically successful in a load of stuff at the minute. I just keep bitching because sometimes, I'm a tool. And now we get some real music.
(It is truly ridiculous metal, but it's so fun. Try it.)
Every part of life so far has been overestimating and at the same time underestimating every responsibility I'll ever have. You want to be a boy? Nah, you can still throw stuff around but now you're accountable. You want to be a teenager? You can skip every class and get high but suddenly you'll have to do exams. You want to be an adult? You can drink every day but you'll get sick.
Alright, that last one sounds like I'm dying or something. I'm not at all.
But you fuck up enough as an adult and the most awful thing happens to you; context.
This blog is kinda stupid, I have no idea where it's going. But after all these years (two I believe, since I last posted) I've learned something really scary: every failure is just as likely as every success to chase you to the grave. I haven't been myself for a bit, so it might just be hyperbole. Pah.
You know, this is such an absurdly shitty comeback. Sorry to be a bummer at you guys, (I'm assuming you exist. Posterity's sake) it's just been a long time. And you know what they say.
"Absence makes the heart grow bummers."
Ew.
A song I feel we all could do from remembering :) (If you're a total stickler for new stuff, go listen to Ladyscraper or Shitwife. All of it.)
What a fucking demented week. So, let's start with the bad - after an all nighter all my work got deleted, numerous train fuck ups left me nearly stranded and other such general nuttiness. You know, I don't even want to get into it - I've ranted enough about the weird shit.
I want to talk about the good shit. And the good shit was extremely good.
I saw Gomez. The band I've liked since I was about ten and loved sporadically since then and steadily for four years now. It was, for want of a better word, fucking blindingly, blisteringly amazingly fucking amazing. I heard songs I thought they'd stop playing years and years ago - they played songs they thought they'd stopped playing years and years ago. Every song was amazing, it was a live experience that kicks ten shades of crap out of everything else I've ever experienced and I've been to breakcore gigs.Lots of them.
Maybe it was the fanboy element, maybe it was just actually that good because Rach and Ish certainly seemed to be enjoying themselves too.
And also, I've ordered two more demijohns. That's right, I'm properly doing the homebrewing thing. Which, incidentally means I now have a persistent injury that still causes occasional irritations (the nose that did an Amazing Glass Elevator and went sideways) and a consistent hobby. That makes me a real man, right? :p
Anyway - I'll leave you with a taster of the amazingness I witnessed at Gomez and my fondest thoughts!
Also, I wish you could still choose the border colour of Youtube embeds.
Yesterday was very pleasant. Alex, Baz and I headed down to the local park to catch the sun with a bottle of the homebrewed ginger beer. It was a nice day out, although it made us all a little sleepy :p
I'd intended to do work, but in the end I only got a little done. The books I've had to read for some of courses are absolutely fucking batshit, let me tell you, and the plays are the worst of the lot... having finished Samuel Beckett's "Endgame" I can only presume that every character was in some kind of hell. Weird shit.
I am currently listening to deeply, deeply pleasant music. :)
I really, seriously like DJ Food. Kaleidoscope is up there on my favourite albums ever. Also, in a month's time Rach is taking me and Ish:
To go and see GOMEZ, MOTHERFUCKERS :D (We have to pay her back, though, obviously ;p)
Well, that about calls this one a wrap. Back in Hastings in about two weeks :)
I have begun home-brewing. Partly because I love alcohol, partly because it's cheap, partly for bragging rights and primarily because I want to make amazing wine out of vanilla one day.
Vanilla wine would be awesome, I can't believe nobody's thought of it. Although, obviously, I'm worried that in actuality somebody already did and it was shit... hmm.
These charming chaps are Pearl and the Beard, one of the fucking cutest little bands in the world. I mean, just fucking look at them:
But anyway, apart from that we have plants. Plants all in our house. There's Dragon, the communal plant (of whom Alex is weirdly affectionate), Molly's sunflower plant and my two plants: Port the laurel plant and Sherry, who's some kind of fern. I'm quite fond of them, but I've had to put Sherry out on the ledge. He doesn't look to hot.
The band with Ish kind of fell through, we never get them time to practice so it's largely a lost cause - still, we've managed to record one song which I imagine will get put up here eventually.
Alex has picked up guitar again, and suggested that when he's got up to scratch we and Jess should start a little band. Which is plenty fine by me, I've still got the itch for it.
Anyways, Bangface tomorrow and Gomez in a month and a bit - live shows are looking good for a while :D
Watch fall Dover mean. ;p
Just a quick flyby. Still much the same, but we have a house together. Some of us (including my girly [fuck the conspiratory dick of a concept that is geographical longitude {Dimensions can suck my balls} ] ) are together at this instance :)
In the meantime, someone recently asked me if the band Korpiklaani sounded like what it was mean to be like in my head. I always pissed about with it.
But it kinda is.
I like being in here :D
I feel very odd today. Not in any specific way, just a little distant. Not as bad as yesterday though. I wonder if my mind is flying away somewhere?
Probably just hit the bottle a little hard over the weekend.
Going back to London in maybe a month? It'll be odd. Familiar faces in different places, but it'll certainly be pleasant I imagine :)
But, of course, when I go to London I won't be taking Jess with me. Another year of not nearly enough time spent with each other... but we'll both be better off this time, we can see each other more than last year... I suppose I should count my blessings. I'm the only person in the world to have a Jessica Potts. I'm very lucky :)
A lot of birthdays this summer. Summer's like that... it was my birthday recently :)
Listen to that song. It's beautiful (beautiful, beautiful, just beautiful). :)
There's not much else to say about life really. I spent all summer looking for a job, to no avail. Sigh. There's a beautiful place some new-ish friends showed me recently, it's lovely. I hope to spend more time there, and with them in general. They're good guys, and get on with just about everyone I do. It will be nice, I imagine :)
I want to be in a band. Me and Ish have a band, but geography conspires against us having much more than a collection of covers, a handful of self-written songs and about a gig a month. I dreamed I was in a band last night.
Anyway, I'm not sure how much more I have left to say. Since Space Walk is such a long song, it'll be the only one I include today. Next time, though... :)
Love dove and shove, you crazy kids. Play safe and play hard.
Dear Politics: fuck you. You aren't what I thought, you're just what I knew. You happen to be right but nobody moves, I want a revolution tomorrow, with no blood and no tears, And I want it to be over when it's over and I want it to be sorted, And I want equality and I want it now, And I want racism to be gone. I'm Miss Right Now. I want world peace.
Dear Art: fuck you. I want perfect expression, not expressive depression, You can be so beautiful but fuck knows it's easy, When did you become something anyone could do, Without being accessible to me? To us? To the world? I want art, I want art, I want fucking art, I want a sunset explained to me and I want it there, I swear I've had to wait twenty years for someone to show me a rainbow On a canvas. So show me. I'm Miss Right Now. I want world fucking peace.
Dear Science: fuck you. You're clever and I don't want you to go, Please don't leave, I'm sorry, but... Why can't I live forever? Why are there diseases? Why illness? Famine? Age? Poverty? Destruction despair the need to go piss when I want to stay, Why isn't there right here, why do people get fat, Why can't I be strong by sitting on my ass? Should I ask God? 'Cause I asked him (a prelude to this poem, From when I was young and little and good) And he was fucking useless.
Dear reality: fuck you. It's hard being me. Poor little me. Trapped in you. No matter how beautiful. Signed, - An angsty, optimistic idealist.
I think a lot about little hypothetical situations when I walk on my own. Usually I have superpowers or do something breathtakingly courageous and admirable in them since if I'm already setting the rules of the hypothetical I might as well enjoy the ride as much as possible. I doubt this is particular to me, since everyone I've mentioned it to seemed familiar with the idea and it just kinda feels like one of those things everyone does, anyway.
But there's one particular type of hypothesis I always construct, far more than the others. What if I woke up tomorrow at some previous point in my life? With all my memories of the future? Would I pass it off as a dream? Maybe, but it wouldn't be, would it? How would I act on this? For a start I'd have all my knowledge, all my skills that I currently posses. I'd be able to fingerpick guitar and write better, I'd have better experience and more understanding and a more mature outlook. But most importantly I could act on things. Not even rectify mistakes, bar maybe a couple. I think I'd mainly try to intercept the mistakes of others that I could predict with my new found insight before I tried to rectify my own. It would feel oddly presumptious to change my past, but to steer others from things they'd regret later would just feel oddly like giving advice from a newer, more enlightened perspective... and they'd be free to decline it if they chose.
I think I'd mostly rush to where I was now. None of this fucking about, I know who liked me and who didn't; I could rush and whip my Jess off her feet and be a little more brave because I'd know that I could and I'd know that she was scared. I could tell people where they'd find love and give them a swift boot up the ass, I could find people jepordising their happiness and wallowing in misery and give them a hand. I could get people out of places before the bad shit went down and I could steer clear of the places I now know I ought have avoided. But how much good would I do?
I think the good I'd do would be limited to the trust of the people I approached or the subtleness needed. If I need to approach someone straight up with a 'do this' and 'don't do that' then I'd better hope they can trust me, and I'd better hope my judgement is as clear as it seems. On the other hand if I merely need to be somewhere, or not be somewhere or smile in the right place then I think I'd have more chance of doing it right, and less chance of making some poor judgement call because I've only seen the outcome of what has been instead of what could have.
And of course there'd be things I'd need to leave well alone. No matter how frustrating, no matter how cringeworthy to watch the slow crawl of events I'd just have to sit back and hope that some small factor hasn't changed what was about to come to pass.
And I'd have to hope to fuck that there weren't unseen ramifications.
I guess I'm just naturally a meddler. I see something and think 'Oooh, I could fix that,' regardless of how qualified I am in any given field. Especially with people. I think I can fix people, which is a fairly sweeping presumption to make and one that remains even though, by and large, it turns out you can't really fix anyone without their express permission first. I wonder if people have fixed me? I'm sure they probably have at various points, but you kind of forget. It's nice to imagine you've got where you are on your own, so you end up with just this unspecified, immense thankfulness towards people. A kinda ethereal gratitude. Course you can pin it down, if you really try. Even as I've been writing this a few examples popped into my head.
I'm musing aimlessly, not sure why. Anyways, a pleasure as ever. :)
Something more cheery and less philosophically whimsical next time, promise ;)
Oh, thumb. You've been hurting for far too fucking long, thumb. I am starting to lose my patience, thumb. And everytime I move you, all your little bones and cartilage bits and tendons slide back and forth into and out of place with a distressing grinding click, thumb. Which hurts, thumb. And also feels extremely disturbing, thumb. Everytime I need to open a door, hold the guitar, lift up something or do anything ever, thumb. Do you know how long you've been doing this, thumb? It's two weeks, thumb. Two weeks. Oh, thumb. You are a cunt.
I fucking miss my girlfriend. Thumb is cunt, miss girlfriend. Just finished all work in world. Three in morning. Need lie down time.
It's nearly summer. Do you know what, I haven't made a big deal about this in a while.
So NOW I WILL.
IT'S NEARLY SUMMER, YOU BEAUTIFUL ASSBITCHES OF SATANBALLS DEATHSHIT AAAAAAAAAH! Do you know what this means?! This means the sun, this means love and madness and people dancing when and where they ought not be! This means people who we thought lost! This means green grass and hot fire! This means drinking cheap rose even though we have money for better! This means laughing upside down on rocks and the sand and rocks and trees and dirt becoming a world of splendour! This means new acquintances and old music! This means my Jess! This means Jacob and Alex and Jess and Molly and Baz and Katie and Merlin and Ish and Codie and every single fucker in Hastings! This means mornings lurching about the room in underwear, half dead from the night before with the guilty pleasure of tonight on our tongues like tabs of acid! This means thing that I can't even THINK OF RIGHT NOW!
I am a huge, heaping, endless mess of odd contentment. And with that sentence I greet me blog. Howdy :)
Welp, I have a mild hangover which is nestling itself beneath a curtain of drunk so I'm listening to happy music and being as melodramatic as I can. I think I was genuinely more hungover earlier. Toying with the notion of shotting a bit of Millie's overproof rum to feel better, but I know it's a bad idea. The problem with bad ideas is that they're always so hopelessly attractive.
Last night was quite awesome, a girl from my course with green hair plied me with tequila and chatted with me for hours whilst the birthday girl got pissed, took various members of both sex to her room and passed out in that order. It was an overall positive experience. I also found out that one of my uni acquintances is heavily into breakcore. We were chatting about ATR for some time, and when someone tried to interrupt she screeched 'GO AWAY, WE'RE BONDING!' at them. I think she's about to escalate from uni acquintance to uni friend.
Anyway, I ramble at you and then give you some music, oh blog. 'Tis kinda our 'thing'. So I shall indulge you :)
I'd listen to that song iffin I were you. It's fuckin' awesome.
What else happened in recent events? BANGFACE. Yes, Bangface. It happened. For the third year running. AND IT WAS MY FAVOURITE. IT KICKED SO MUCH ASS THAT EVEN THESE CAPITAL LETTERS CANNOT FULLY EXPRESS THE MAGNITUDE OF MY GLEE. Only this picture can do that.
Yes, that is me having a drunk-nap on a man dressed as a dinosaur who's so fucked that drugs are literally falling back out of his nose.
I liked him. He was cool.
I just remembered! Today's hangover has a name! It's called 'Big Bag of Meat That Bees Can Eat'. 'Tis a quote. From this song here :)
I just shotted some of that overproof rum exactly like I knew I shouldn't. It was fucking awful :(
Anyway, despite all of this brilliance of events, all is not well in Kieranland. And it's primarily because this one is missing:
She's my favourite and she's not here :(
Do you know what sucks? Distance. I actually, in fact, once wrote a haiku on the subject of distance for my Creative Writing coursework.
Yes, I have to write haikus for coursework. That's a thing now.
Anyway, I should probably leave. I can't think of what to say, I miss my girlfriend, my throat hurts from that rum I just shotted, I like complaining and Homage to Patagonia is playing. What an awesome song. :D
Even writing that bit was an experience in all emotions. Guilt, anxiety, anguish, pain, wry amusement and then sheer joy. Also, writing that sentence made experience all them emotions again in that order. I'm rather suggestible today.
“Don’t be afraid to be a fool. Remember, you cannot be both young and wise. Young people who pretend to be wise to the ways of the world are mostly just cynics. Cynicism masquerades as wisdom, but it is the farthest thing from it. Because cynics don’t learn anything. Because cynicism is a self-imposed blindness, a rejection of the world because we are afraid it will hurt us or disappoint us. Cynics always say no. But saying yes begins things. Saying yes is how things grow. Saying yes leads to knowledge. “Yes” is for young people. So for as long as you have the strength to, say yes.”
They basically just suck for no reason, and I get them much worse than anyone else I know. Stupid hangovers. What you do for Kie?!
Ah well. Anyway, have some more lighthearted tunage and keep posted for later blogs of actual substance.
Love you all!
P.S. Today's hangover is called Ferret in the Trousers.
P.P.S. Me and overproof rum are no longer on first name basis. 63 per cent? I tell you, the shit was made with metahnol or some shit. Merely drinking it has likely affected my eyesight for life.
Solomon Grundy, Born on Monday, Christened on Tuesday, Married on Wednesday, Took ill on Thursday, Worse on Friday, Died on Saturday, Buried on Sunday, And that was the
end of Solomon Grundy.
George Orwell wrote that.
Because clever people sometimes don't just write about pressing and serious cultural matters. Sometimes they just write shit. Probably on opium. Yeah, opium. You heard.
Intense cramming for much belated heap of coursework I need to have done for tomorrow. I've done as much as I can with my current knowledge and am left a burnt out shivering wreck for the evening. Not being a coffee drinker I figured I'd need something equivalent to double the average coffee drinkers dosage of tea to get me by on the work, but unfortunately I was basing this calculation off of Molly...
Did you know if you drink enough tea it closely mimics the effects of amphetamines? Did you also know it will make you feel like utter, utter shit even as it happens? Despite slumping in a pit of self loathing softly flavoured with bergamont I managed to reel off massive amounts of work (undoubtedly mostly second rate, but at least it's done) before running back and forth from the toilet like an incontinent with Alzheimer's and stumbling blearily into things. I'm not even that tired, I could have easily done this without caffeine. I basically murdered my bladder for shits and giggles. I remember when I used to be hardcore - now I chow down on caffeine and bitch about my pissing. Sigh.
Anyway, aside from that not much to report. Catching up on the uni work I fucked last term, I guess, is about it. Had Jess round last weekend, which was nice even if I did spend the whole of two days in bed with her. We're pretty lazy like that :)
Going home to Hastings for this weekend, gonna catch up with the gang including, rarities of rarities, Merlin! :D
Anyway my loves, I must away. Good night to all :)
