Dear Politics

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.

Weird

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 ;)




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Oh, thumb.

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.


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It Just Hit Me

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!

This means music and wine. Get on it, people.

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(The kisses are so big 'cause of all that love I'm in)

Mess

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.

Love, dove and shove me dears.

Me loves, me darlings, me dears :D

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Good afternoon :)

“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.”

I don't want hangovers no more

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.

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