I can't have kids, I still am one...

So... It's once again a ridiculous time of morning to be awake, but I can't sleep because I have too much on my mind and procrastination is my way of life... That in mind, I have a lot to do and that always sends me a little crazy.

However, one thing that has kept me wondering a lot lately is something a friend said to me. We assume different roles, and some of those require responsibility. This does not make us responsible people, just that we can be when we have to be.

I've always been interested in perspectives and how people differ in certain situations, and that has me wondering who is actually ready to be a parent? Are any of us? Or do we all simply muddle through, best we can?

Now I've met some people who are destined for the real world, they're grown up before their time and yet I cannot cope with it. I've never been much good at that sort of thing, I'm good at a lot of things, but life isn't one. My thought processes are all wrong for it.

On the other hand, I'm not a bad father, but I feel that it's a struggle, I feel like no matter how well I do it will always be in spite of who I am, rather than because of it. Now I can accept that, some people can't eat cheese, others can't dance, I can't think in the same way that the average person does, but I'm okay with it.

So if you're ever left wondering if you're cut out for life, for work, for parenthood, for this whole giant rat race, just remember, if I can do it anybody can...

Back and forth...

I did promise to submit some of my work, so here's a short story I'm particularly fond of... It's a first draft, so all critique is welcome...

Back and forth he paced. Back and forth. Stopping each time only to check the clock.
3:13.
Always 3:13. He knew it was broken, had been for weeks, but it was a habit and somehow felt comforting. A little tiny oasis of normality in a maelstrom of emotional upheaval. It didn't last.

'Yes, I'll buy the batteries. If you would only remember on your way home to check your phone it would've been ticking by now, though.'
'Thanks. And remember to enjoy yourself, okay? It's been a while since you last went out for lunch.'
'You're so patronising sometimes, why do I put up with you?'
'Somebody has to. You're just lucky, I guess'
'Oh, go away!'
'I love you too'

That was the last conversation he'd had with her. The last thing they had spoken about was batteries! He kept replaying it over in his head; at least he'd remembered to say he loved her.
He glanced up. 3:13 again.
'Well, one thing is certain, it's not 3:13.' He announced to the empty room.
He checked his pocket. Another habit; he knew his phone was now in pieces, embedded in their new tv. How long had it been since he heard the news? An hour? Half an hour? Five minutes? He had no way to be sure.

'Breaking news from Sunderland: The Lambton Worm today became the latest in a series of arson attacks on pubs in and around the city centre. Emergency services are currently at the scene, but the fire still rages on. It is unknown as of yet how many survivors there are, but an estimated 70 people were in the building at the time. We now go live to...'

Everything after that became a blur. He remembered trying to call her, but getting an answerphone. Not surprising, she drained her battery most days playing candy crush. He tried again, and again, and after the fifth time he lost it; threw the phone at the wall and missed, effectively cutting off all communication with the world.
He'd considered going out, but they'd only just moved here. Where would he go? Who could he see? It had all seemed so perfect this morning and now everything was chaos.
3:13.
He wanted to scream, to hit something, to charge off. But instead, all he did was pace. Back and forth. Back and forth.

Okay, I know it's shite, but I can't yet find the original which was much better, when I do I shall edit this to include that, combine the two and maybe finally have a story, but for now what are your thoughts?

Life in the wide world goes on, much as it has this past Age...

The only man who is truly happy is blissfully unaware of the existence of women...

With an opening line like that I'm aware I may get comments... But at least that means somebody is reading this.

After a week of what should've been rest, relaxation and no stress I think I need a holiday. I certainly enjoyed myself, but I actually feel drained... Back to work tomorrow and nothing will have changed really, which is why you cannot run from your problems, they're always waiting when you get back. The really persistent ones follow you.

Anyway, today I want to rant about the train blocking Netflix and even YouTube on their Wi-Fi, despite this being first class and the only carriage with bloody Wi-Fi in it... And why am I complaining about that? Simple: I forgot to bring a book... Actually, I didn't really forget, but the book I'm reading is currently lying at the bottom of a bag in the far wardrobe, which is blocked (ironically) by a hundred boxes of books.

I have a certain inability to organise, which can be charming, but leads to some frustrating flaws in my plans. I'm aware, too, of the fact that I may be the only person who doesn't own any ebooks, audio books, or anything to play/ read them on, but I love books. The smell of a new book, or an older book that just brings memories flooding back (scent invokes the most powerful memory connections), the awkward way you have to balance something between the pages perfectly so you can read hands free, tilting to find the tiny bit of light that barely covers a word, the whole experience is just amazing. And I understand most of these things are not good, but they make it memorable.. Who hasn't held a torch in their mouth to read the last chapter of a book during a powercut?

Anyway, nostalgia aside, books are worth more than a 5 grand tablet with no personality to it... And I will continue to believe that.

Nobody can give you wiser advice than yourself...

Been a while, all too easy to forget this exists until it's 4am, you're considering an all nighter and trying to fill the big empty space where thought should be...

So... Onto business... I want to write again, which is annoying because I know that within me lies the potential for several short stories, a series of books, several hours worth of stand up comedy and a few thousand deeply sarcastic, slightly misanthropic and fairly insightful blog posts/ newspaper columns. But knowledge needs to be put to use, otherwise it is pointless, and therein lies the problem; I can write, I choose not to.

Which leads to a very fascinating topic: choices. Regrets. I've had a few. But then again, too few to mention... We all regret something, and many of us live in the notion that we like who we are at least a little or else we'd change; and as you know, we are the sum of our experiences, they have shaped us into what stares back at you from the bathroom mirror on a daily basis (unless you're really weird and have a mirror with a pattern, you're not a butterfly)

Ultimately, however, we live the life we choose to lead, and where circumstance dictates that we should do this, it doesn't make it an inevitability. You've got no money if you move out of your parents house, but you want to leave this city and explore the world... It might not be the best, the smartest or even the most viable option, but you'd still have the option to leave... Don't waste your life with excuses, you can leave without a penny and walk, hitchhike, earn your keep elsewhere, sleep rough, etc. You want out then save up or just fucking go, it's that simple...

Anyway, I don't mean to preach, so I'll leave you with my conclusion when wondering 'what if...?'

Could I be a world class writer if I'd stuck at it longer? Could I be studying for my masters degree right now if I'd made the effort with uni? Would I know heartache and pain and loss, and would I know love and would I have a son? I believe that every possible outcome actually happens in an alternate version of our timeline, so speculating about these is redundant, but did I make the right decisions in life for me? Most certainly, and that's a very good thought to leave you with...

Life doesn't imitate art, it imitates bad television...

Briefly having checked my old blog I've discovered something I used to do which I quite enjoyed, and I did get some good feedback from it too... So, without any further hesitation, here's another well revised advert breakdown:

Shiva

New pouches, mini pouches, and I quote; 'for that freshly opened taste every time'...  Do cats really need that? Honestly? Have there been complaints from cats and their owners about slightly stale tasting food? And if so, why have these people been targeted for a new product instead of sectioned for eating cat food and believing they are doctor Doolittle?

Sommersby cider

At first I liked this ad, it was a fun little social commentary, but after a while it has just begun to annoy me... However, part of what annoys me is what happens with a lot of adverts, every second it runs costs a small fortune for the company, and so once the original week is over the ad is shortened to the bare bones, which means losing most of the best jokes.

Now is a good time

I can't remember which cider this was for, but it was a fantastic advert, with a brilliant massage... And it actually made me want a drink in a pub on a nice day surrounded by good mates, and not many ads actually make you want the product, so I think that was perfect

I think I'll leave it there for now, I'll remember more once this is published, I will probably get around to posting more soon enough, enjoy and, as always...

See you when I see you

May you live in interesting times...

Hello faithful readers, both the extremely bored and the exceptionally lost.

I'd like to start by explaining the title, it's an ancient Chinese curse - may you live in interesting times, and may you find what you are looking for. Pretty self explanatory, no hidden meanings or subterfuge, just somebody cursing you to perceived bliss, unusual for me, I know.

Yet it leads to the most interesting question: what do you want from life? What do you really want? What do you think you want?

I am often fickle, I continually look back at what was with rose tinted glasses, convinced I'm missing out because I made the wrong decision... There's another more recent saying that I'm about to butcher here, that states the grass is always greener elsewhere because there is so much shit there...

However, as human beings, we're programmed to be fickle, there is so much choice these days that we will always feel like we're missing out on something, and I doubt anybody knows what they really want out of life...

Mine is actually a very interesting life, both a blessing and a curse. There are many people who care a great deal about me, I have good friends, family, colleagues, I get to hang out in pubs, play pool, drink whiskey, smoke cigars... And I have a son... And a job I like, I have a passion for... These are things many people would kill to have, I've known love, I've experienced quite a bit for only being 23... My life pretty much rocks, although it has a lot of drawbacks... One of which is slight anxiety, I've been hyperventilating all day, not ideal, but if that's the worst that happens this week I'll still be bloody lucky....

See you when I see you...

Work is the curse of the drinking classes...

Right... All nighter for no reason again... Hopefully this will reset my body and sleeping pattern... So let's blog...

Where are we right now? Well, my life is actually looking up, since the split virtually everything has improved, apart from the contact I get with my son, which ironically is the main focus in my life right now, go figure...

But let us leave personal lives aside and get on with something far more important; music.

It is a major part of most of our lives, it inspires us, we use it to relax, to get adrenaline flowing, to psych ourselves up, calm ourselves down, to express ourselves when we don't have the words to do so, some songs make us cry, some make us laugh, some make us want to throw the radio across the room so we never have to hear them again, and yet nobody seems to give it the credit it's due.

There are some fantastic songs out there, anything by Billy Joel, David Bowie, Queen... Songs with true meaning... And yet the songs we choose today for weddings, funerals, christenings, etc are mostly shite... The best example (or I should say worst example) would be the wedding where the couple's first dance was the Harlem shake (I think that's what it's called, but I'm really not in the habit of caring what craze is degrading the world this week) and then there are those who have psy or lmfao in there, some even choose thriller... I have nothing against these songs, I've done the zombie dance and gangnam style, along with the YMCA and on several occasions square danced my way through cotton eye Joe, it's fun and after enough whiskey the novelty hits home, but for big moments these are not the songs to choose.

You want a song that means a lot to the couple for a wedding, you want something tearful and poignant at a funeral and as for christenings? These are some of the first songs your child will hear, do you really trust Britney spears and Katy Perry over the Beatles and Freddie mercury?

As I say, I love novelty songs, I still listen to the firm and spitting image when I'm feeling in the mood for a laugh, and weird Al will always have a place on my YouTube... I even love cheesy pop songs, but there is a time and place for them - 80s night at your local, or 1am when your house party has evolved seamlessly from a political debate to group karaoke, not at the highest or lowest points in your life. I've yet to meet anybody who uses party rock anthem to get them through a tough time instead of Johnny Cash, or who discard Alanna Myles for Rihanna.

I beg you, keep the time warp where it belongs - near the end of the setlist at 30th, 40th and 50th birthday parties, somewhere between black laces greatest hits and anything by the bee gees... if a song is meaningful for a reason then yes, choose it, but if you just think it'll be funny you're wasting time, money and my oxygen.

See you when I see you...

The only true wisdom is in knowing you know nothing...

So, assuming you follow me on facebook you'll know it's 2am and I can't sleep, can't decide if I want to either... Anyway, that's not important.

I would like to talk to you all about a subject I know plenty about, and yet still know nothing about either. Pub quizzes.

Since the discovery of alcohol, landlords have tried to lure in custom, while at the same time trying to bleed every penny. Thus the ritual of a pub quiz was born, with the assumption that by the time it's finished every participant is too drunk to remember who won.

Cynic, I hear you cry! Heretic! (I'm not hearing voices yet, don't worry, it's a turn of phrase). Well, let me assure you, nothing is further from the truth. I love pub quizzes, I believe people who say it cuts into valuable drinking time simply aren't quizzing correctly (similar problem with darts and pool players).

Anyway, I love them because I am a font of useless knowledge, my cup runneth over with seemingly pointless facts. For example, the first words spoken on the telephone were 'Mr. Watson, come here, I want to see you'. The first line of the hobbit reads 'in a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit' and from that single line 6 books, several short stories and a collection of poetry was written and a whole world was created. And the word dinosaur translates as 'terrible lizzard'.

You probably knew all of these already, even if you didn't know you knew them. And that is what makes pub quizzes such a brilliant idea, you know the answers, but it takes a few drinks before you'll trust your instincts. There's a theory, one I actually believe to be true, that instinct should always be followed, because our minds cannot explain why we know, but given time we would reach that conclusion anyway.

However, I am actually rambling now, so I'll leave you with a thought from Terry Pratchett:

'(his) body didn't produce any "natural alcohol", and he estimates that (he) was about "two drinks below par". This meant that when he hadn't been drinking, he was beyond sober - he was "knurd". Thus he saw reality as it really was ("first sight"); stripped of all the mental illusions that most people construct in their minds to get to sleep at night ("second sight").'

I feel I am very much that way inclined, I need a few drinks before I know what's going on.

Until the next time...

Pleased to meet you, hope you guess my name...

In that way I do, here's an honest post before the descent into mediocrity...

I'm depressed, I know that, what am I doing about it? Absolutely sweet FA.
Why? Out of a fear of getting hurt again? Convenience? Better the devil you know? A form of self loathing that says I don't deserve to be happy? Take your pick.

Anyway, now that's out of the way here comes the fun part; the darkness. One thing we as humans can't seem to come to terms with, our own inner darkness.

What is it? The deepest part of ourselves that we shy away from, the part that says not only is murder ok, but in certain circumstances the only option... I'm pro death penalty, the practical application is what I'm against, because people are too easily corrupted.

Let's not look at the statistics (I don't have access and don't trust them, maths is far too subjective and easily manipulated) but I do know that charm, charisma, confidence and attractiveness mean juries are far less likely to condemn somebody to death. Likewise, race, religion, upbringing and background all factor in too. And at the end of the day, can we trust 12 people specifically chosen for being pro death in the first place? The only reason they're not locked up themselves is they don't pull the trigger, and if they did they're taking out somebody that society has deemed evil anyway.

Which brings me full circle, why does society see a farmer, butcher, hunter or soldier as less reprehensible than a murderer, animal tester, dog fighter? What makes it ok to track, scare, kill, mutilate and torture in those circumstances?

Vigilantes are seen by many as heroes, we glorify it with batman, iron man, the punisher, yet destroy the lives of police officers who cause a death, even indirectly.

Society is fucked. We are either all evil, or none of us is, the only difference is some of us adapt better than others to the restrictions placed upon us.

See you next time.

We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars...

So, after quite a hiatus, I've decided to write again. Expect a lot more and a lot of shameless Facebook plugging.

Where to begin? Well, that's easy, I have no end of opinions, therefore no end of material. However, I think I'll start with something not so close to home, although I can't promise to keep my personal life out of here forever.

For now this will simply be my introduction... Or reintroduction... Into a world I thought lost to me.

Oscar Wilde once said 'Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth.'

This is a mask for me, a way of being honest, letting off steam and doing so in a way that will only be read by those who care about me... Meaning those who will accept my honesty, and that's important to me due to recent events.

Anyway, as I say, this is only the beginning, I plan to talk more when inspired (probably by criminal minds, watching a lot of that lately).

Do svidaniya