January 23, 2017

Young AF

Ugh, I'm moving into a higher age group in drop-down menus. 
Like how Disney keeps getting copyright length extended, I shall petition to maintain my chronological point belongs in the 'young hotstuffs' age region, and will be declined because I used the phrase 'young hotstuffs'.

Alien Muppet Friend

I think I just realised that most people are pretty weird and I'm good at making them all feel comfortable and normal, and the big difference is my weirdness is often not tolerated or accommodated by others. Most humans are not so good at placating or adapting. Either they don't know to or don't care to. Even laughing comments from friends of "You're a freak," or "You're a Muppet" are pretty insulting and show a resistance to adapt or make another person feel comfortable. Anyone who doesn't think or act like you is odd. Wrong. Weird. And I find that attitude weirder than anything. You can best challenge people's beliefs and behaviours when you meet them on a middle-ground first. How can you pull someone to your side of the line if you don't understand them? And how can you have friends like and trust you if you make them feel like an alien? It seems to me that those who default to that rigidness must secretly feel most alien of all.

January 12, 2017

Hey Blondie

Men who yell at me from their cars now gets yelled at back, but with a scowl, swear words, and shaken head
I don't know how long it'll take 'til one of these guys comes after me but I'm sick of being yelled at like a stray dog. 

Tonight was lurid eyes and "Get in the car". 

Literally 10 seconds later, another car with two guys yelling at me. 

The best part is they look really surprised when I tell them the fuck off, and then, do you know what they do? They act like a victim. 
When they ask what they've done wrong like a pathetic, simpering piece of hair-coated excrement, I tell them "DON'T TALK TO STRANGERS".
This needs to become the standard.

January 11, 2017

Single and Ready to Mangle the Last Years of My Youthfulness

Yes, it's my birthday today - I'm 21!

I can prove it: Who are the Beatles?

Now reward my impossible youthfulness with all kinds of copy/paste sentimentality and monetary notes dropping out of cards I'll never read. 

I in return shall eat diebetising foods, listen to Nirvana but at considerate volume, and do online quizzes about what breed of a houseful of cats are best suited to eat my face.

January 10, 2017

The Sound of One Vocal Cord Strumming

It's funny how we all grow up hating the sound of our own voices. Don't assume a singer or voice actor is exempt - we start putting our stuff out there before we become fully okay with our true sound.

I realised today I can listen to myself sing now and just take lessons from it. I can have one of my voice-overs play in a room full of people and not cringe. It's just a sound byte, a measurement stick for where I was at when it was recorded. I take little mental notes to help me adapt, and only cringe if I'm really disappointed in my performance. 

I guess I stopped linking my voice to my sense of real worth. It's my tool that undergoes constant calibration, experimentation, and risk. 

There simply is no other way to get what you want.

January 9, 2017

Made in Danemark

I didn't see much of Denmark. It was grey both times. The bridge was tall and cool. On the opposite way I took the ferry and the sea and sky were frigid concrete, but on the way back we did stop in at a roadside stop, and it was lush and landscaped like nothing here.
I stretched and bounced around and romped off at any roadside stop - finding rocks to jump on or rises to climb to see what was on the other side. I think it was in Denmark I started to walk through the mazical garden, I remember my hands were sticky from food (though I don't remember what), and I heard a bird whistling in 3/4 time.
I've never heard such a thing.
I stood in wonder between the green, and realised - this is how those classical composers came to own the time signature.
They heard it from a little bird.
We are made of our worlds as much as we make them.

January 5, 2017

Gut Scraper

It seems like everyone ended the year in a happy relationship while I wound up with my guts scraping on the floor through the souls of my feet. Do you ever look at everyone else in their functional lives and think you're just too different to be one of them? Like they hold a secret or are too genetically different to hold that much in common with you? Like no matter how much you try to change it, and fake it, and take shit until there's no room for air, you just never get there? That no matter how kind or valuable or embracing you try to be, you're not wanted or needed anywhere on Earth? That things like being loved back by someone who sees you truly, being part of a family, these aren't for everyone and you might be in the 'aren't' pile?
Do you think there's a way to change it if you are?
Or do we have to stay in lies to be part of the game? Is it better to drink to Kool-Aid to be with those you love, or be real and riddled with flaws and always alone? Is it better to really be true with yourself and empty than emptied by another, or settling for someone who will take your shit, be kind, and never set your world on fire?
Every single option sounds like a midlife crisis waiting to happen.

January 1, 2017

Happy New

A grey, smudged city, blurred out in real-time, pre-set rain filter, agloom, aglow, the suburbs hazed below, the shrill blast of football lights, a cold that bites the skin in sheer mist, a midsummer day like an English springtime, an invitation to snuggle up on the couch with a cushion. Long socks, hot dinner, a movie, on new year's day.