Take thy beak from out my heart

This blog (not this one. I have copied this entry from damn chefs) has
gone from emotastic to dry. I guess I could do another list. Things
that have occurred to me recently which I have remembered.

  
• I have a fat face. Maybe I am embarking on rapid weight gain. but why did it have to be the face
  
• I have low tolerance for chocolate. I eat a couple pieces of toblerone
  and I feel sick for the rest of the freaking day. Come Easter...
  
• Imogen Heap is a whole other kind of nang. I might do my "must do one before I
  leave and regret it forever" singing solo singing a song from speak for yourself. ooer. but nothing fixed yet. I haven't even told Louisa and maybe should get round to that.
  
• I'm still a massive fool. I doubt it's ever going to change.
  
• nivea is better than vaseline SHUT UP.
  
• I'm trying and mostly failing to stick to my 'not new years' just randomly'
  resolution to make at least one piece of art a day. That way if my
  physics-stylee life goes down the toilet in the gangland city of
  Britain (apparently) I can pursue my art (!)career. heh. By the way I
  hated art gcse so much I wanted to just die, but not before KILLING
  OMFG EVERYONE. but that's the fool's twisted logic for you.
  
• I should have revised more over the holidays, but I can still save
  myself. I'm trying to recreate my GCSE state of mind. it bloody worked
  then, why not now. It was sometime like, 'these exams are a piece of
  piss! I am GOD'. so it might not be as simple as that. both statements
  are now probably false.
  
• body glitter is fun but embarassing.
  
• I wear cologne. Lavender. My mum gave it to me. see above: body glitter
  
• everything in my house is dark dirty dank and dyurrrrrngh.
  
• my christmas present from Ju was pretty random, but cool. make that very random.
  
• Ariel Sharon was named after half a fish and my friend's mum, and was
  responsible for two massacres, and was described as unfit for office.
  
• I am better at integration than vectors. FREAK
  
• everyone on the telly is FAT
  
• that chopsticks! advert is bollocks.
  
• I have a box of widgets.
  
• I've turned down a place at Oxford.
  
• I need speakers. I die of envy when I go into my brother's room and hear his, and they're crap.
  
• I hoard stupid things.
  
• I am generally, as a rule, late to everything. This also applies to
  things I 'find'. See: Million Dead (split up), Hunter S. Thompson
  (dead), driving (everyone who is younger than me who can possibly do
  it, do)...
  
• I suck up money like a crazed drugged-up vacuum cleaner in a paper money bank. where all the paper
  widgets holding the money together have mysteriously vanished, leaving
  the money to blossom into a flurry of paper joy before being sucked
  cruelly into the hell of the bag for all eternity where there is
  clearly a wormhole leading to the pockets of everyone else. am broke.
  
• but am owed lots of money by parents. good old dependable mum and dad.
  apart from that some of that is from my birthday in september.
  
• I have a fragrance gift set I have never used. I won it as the best (and
  only) entrant in the locker contest in year 11. fucking yesssssss. it's
  quite posh. thanks ms. forrest!
  
• I cannot think of anything else, nor can I think of the song lyric I thought of earlier.
  It was one line and did not rhyme. and was crap.

so anyway, see you guyses. gosh!

and merry christmas to everybody else whose birthdays are not on Christmas day. or near it. I had a nice winterfest, got rather drunk a couple of times (THANKYOU shav) met some people, got groped by chavs and a fat man in a red t-shirt (best of both worlds there, eh) got a cold and went to TSNK which was fabulous and I put some of my terrible photos up on here so check em out. all in all a great holiday although I can already feel the shadow of the dark and terrible spectre of january exams looming right behind me as I blindly run tooth and nail into the new year with a massive drunken grin on my face. Although I'm sort of wistful now it's snowing, I have fond memories of snow and being chilled to the frickin' bone. this time I remembered not to wear converse. for cosy toes, try not dressing like it's summer. anyway, have a happy new year.

People keep going to art school and making me jealous. Just imagine me holding a paintbrush and looking upset and angry. I keep painting stuff and I feel leet (I'm not a flippin art critic so I don't know if it's any good) so like wtf. I'm doing flippin Physics at uni. Next year. 2006. It's always been my worst flippin subject. What the hell was I thinking? Actually, it's all documented on the internet, and I do know what I like about it thanks very flippin much.
But if I flop and drop out after doing something stupid like going to Oxford and not fully appreciating the workload, I might do that instead. I painted a nuclear explosion today instead of a tree and got compliments on it from my 2nd-cousin-once-removed-in-law. Nang!

...from the top of a 357 on the way home a few weeks ago.

Zwan sounds like Spyro. if you know what I'm talking about you have my respect. (especially Jesus, I/ Mary Star of the Sea! you know!)

Here is a random thought I have decided to unleash upon the unsuspecting world.

If I had the capacity to write a song with a bang-it-aat choon set to only the words "I feel like a bit of an idiot right now, chaps", I certainly would. It would, I hope, convey my feelings much more succinctly than words ever could... because I am no longer very leet with words. I can be at times, but often when I talk it all mushes together into a sort of dirty stream of mumbling. Sort of annoying when you're trying to form sentences.

I feel like a bit of an iiiidiot.... right now.... chaaaps... I feeeeel like a bit of an idiot... right nowwwwww... doo doo dooo.. chaps.

Bang it aat.

I have a feeling. It's not a good feeling. Unfortunately. It's always there, although being with other people helps with it. More like they distract me from it. When I'm alone and able to think, it comes and settles on me like a huge mattress. It feels like it's pushing me down to the floor. I often feel like just laying on the floor. I'm  not quite sure what I'd want to happen after that.
So basically, it's depression mixed with being pushed every way mixed with choking horrible regret. It sounds fan-fucking-tastic, right? Well, it is. It's my life.
I feel like painting again but the paints I bought for these moments where I get the urge to paint have gone missing... so I'm tidying (rearranging the mess in) my room trying to find them. I'm imagining going to art school. I'm imagining what it would have been like if my Art GCSE hadn't been hours of exactly the feeling I describe above, mixed with rebellious apathy and frustration of course. That's what GCSEs are all about.
I'm 18 now. I'd be painting the town red but... I'm not. What's wrong with painting it blue? I was going to have a party... but I'm not. I'm not good at organising, and what good would a party be if it was just for me? I'd break out some music and people would run away because it would be gameboy music remixed by Saskrotch or scary old Queens of the Stone Age. And the rest would mosh, which I think is a bit weird. Risk of serious injury.
Need to find my paints now. I'll do that while you write my personal statement for my UCAS form. Got that?

I always seem to write when I'm tired. Either that, or I'm always tired, which is definitely a possibility. This is a roundabout way of saying that I'm tired right now, because I stayed up while Kieron gave me his top 16 albums in no particular order. Wanna see?

24/8/05
01:41:11 [k]: hehe
01:41:18 [k]: hmmm
01:42:13 [k]: in no particular order....blood, sugar, sex magik (r.h.c.p),
01:43:10 [k]: bob dylan - blood on the tracks
01:44:28 [k]: science - incubus maybe....
01:45:27 [k]: pearl jam - ten
01:45:45 [k]: pixies - surfer rosa
01:45:54 [k]: / come on pilgrim
01:46:47 [k]: at the drive-in - r.o.c
01:47:38 [k]: van morrison - back on top
01:48:08 [k]: nighthawks at the diner - tom waits
01:48:35 [k]: the specials - self titled
01:48:59 [k]: r.a.t.m - self titled
01:49:13 [k]: hmmm
01:49:19 [k]: theres more tho
01:49:41 [k]: london calling - clash
01:50:30 [k]: song to ruin - million dead
01:51:03 [k]: deloused in the crematorium - mars volta
01:51:27 [k]: madness - i think its self titled
01:51:32 [me]: ahh kieron you're breaking the rules
01:51:37 [k]: hehe
01:51:42 [k]: i dnt care
01:51:51 [k]: up the bracket - libertines
01:52:42 [k]: john fruciante - the will to death
01:52:54 [k]: ok ok i'll stop thts like top 20 or sumthin
01:53:06 [me]: lol k
01:53:08 [k]: 16
01:53:13 [k]: top 16

I'm going to make a list of all the things that make me feel like a fool.
1. Trying to pretend I know anything about music to someone who does.
Later on he said, if you haven't heard any of these you should. My current count is pushing 0. Maybe one song here and there. At least it wasn't in person, cos all the fake mm-hmming might have caused me to rupture a major artery.
foooooooooooooooo.
It's only slightly depressing that I feel like a fake, like I shouldn't be in this Physics class, or I shouldn't be singing this song, or playing this violin. It's the same with people, only it's the people that I admire the most (there's a whole group... and it's for lots of different reasons, the most prevalent being that their wit... I feel exceptionally great cracking a stunningly crap quip about how stuff is bad... and then going a little bit crazy laughing at their jokes... it's joke withdrawal... when I get quality it's so much better than if I got it 24/7... it's like a drug... I'm sure the content of some of those jokes has to be illegal in many countries of the world...)

I'm not sure what to do with this, because I have my blog and it's cool. I'll do little anecdotal things that I think of, although I don't seem to do that a lot any more, and I can't remember them when I do. I need to stimulate my mind. I also need a tape recorder so I don't waste them by forgetting. Alternatively, I could talk about random crap, because that's how these things come about anyway.
Yesterday... stuff happened I want to write about on my blog. Even though more people will see it here. I will write and copy and paste, because I am lazy.
Yesterday, I was in town, down Oxford Street and Carnaby Street, handing out CVs with my deadly foe Georgia. We went to loads of shops, it was fun. Edit. We went to a few shops, keeping our standards high (JD Sports, no, it's sports, Dorothy Perkins, no, what a stupid name for a shop, M&S -no, it's Marks and Sparks.) A small number of the shops we went to took our CVs. In another one, we were told that at that point the policy was to chuck the CVs straight in the bin without even looking at them. Come back in a couple of weeks.
We went shopping a little bit as well, down Carnaby Street, in Octopus and David & Goliath. I got a new watch in Octopus, I haven't had a watch in ages but it was cool and I missed it, so I bought one. It's a simple digital widget in a plastic watch with squidgy rectangular bubbles of coloured liquid in yellow, orange and green. It's very cool. We faffed about for ages in David & Goliath, because it's David & Goliath, and there's so much that is cool and sweet that we couldn't not faff. I bought a really cool cute sushi t-shirt and a badge for Ernestina that says, 'Jive turkey'.
When we got back to Oxford Circus tube station, there were transport police and normal police blocking the entrance. Some guy in a flourescent jacket told us there had been another bomb at Warren Street. I think that we were told that the bombs hadn't worked as well, because I don't remember being too scared. We messed around with our mobiles for a few minutes (the networks were jammed for a bit) before doing what my dad didn't want me to do and getting on a bus to Liverpool Street, to go home. Although the bus was 'reprogrammed' to terminate at Bank, and we had to walk. The bus driver's way of saying 'all change' left us quite offended, and was a topic of intense conversation on the way home on the overground. It all worked out fine in the end (if you can ever say that about bombs), and Georgia got to be happy to see a police officer (usually, she says, they're keeping an eye on her friends).  We got ice creams, then I got a chocolate muffin when we got to her house. I didn't drink lime cordial and sparkling water with a teaspoon like the last time I was there, because that's an odd thing to do and there was no reason to repeat it.
I got home and rested my eyes while lying down on the sofa, only to be rudely  disturbed by my dad asking me to get the hell up so we could go to Guildford. I don't have the mental capacity to argue my way out of a trap like that, so I had to get up and go. We got the overground train, a tube, a 'drain' and a train, had a wicked dinner and then got to see my dad getting drunk. I couldn't, because black Smirnoff Ice makes me gag, why the hell does it taste of liquorice anyway? So we stayed up til 2, I forgot the Erik Satie piece I was trying to learn before, got freaked out by my dad's friend's son (who is a freak, that's why), got wordlessly bitched at by a cat and left my dad's book there in the morning. It ended up being quite boring, in a fun sort of way. And now I am home, and feel all weird trying to make it sound interesting. The jokes worked, I think, but the material was lame. If you're reading this on Buzznet, and you want to read it again, then why don't you head over to my blog and read it with a black background and a different font. If you're reading this on blogger/blogspot, then why not head over to my buzznet journal and read it surrounded by green. It's awe-inspiring. I need to sleep.