Everyone I know goes away, in the end...

Alex and Becka (and to a lesser extent Tom Parsons) are all rubbish for not agreeing with everything I say. But it was nice of Becka and Tom to not object when I tagged along with Alex when they came to meet her for lunch. "I'm blogging this" - I can't remember what I said that about, unfortunately. Maybe it was about Alex's inappropriate comment about me and this blog.
I'd very much like to get out of this life. Every day has become such a monotony drenched repeat of the one before. I'm struggling not to become another mindless drone (it isn't very hard, the majority of people just love to conform) by pushing the limits of what is meant by "smart-casual".
So I hear that dogs are killing babies these days. So where were the parents when two dogs snuck into the pub and took their unatended, five month old child? What kind of parents would leave their baby alone in a pub? In fact, what kind of parents would take their baby to a pub?
I feel very isolated from the world. I don't communicate with anyone much, anymore. It isn;t even that I don't try, I've been texting a few people here and there, I usually get a monosylabic reply, if at all. I'm not saying they don't care, maybe they do, maybe they don't, it just feels like everyone's moving on wile I'm stuck on repeat. Is that a song lyric? It sounds familliar.
Ahh, Trent. He always knows what to say. I have been neglecting Justin lately, I still love him. I don't like when people think Johnny Cash wrote Hurt and Nine Inch Nails covered it.

But I do love both versions of Hurt. And William Shatner.

Nice and relaxing

Today has been nicely chilled. I wrote the begginnings of a song last night, not sure I like it anymore, though. I wrote an entirely new one today. I managed to get a musician's account on myspace. I'm not a great singer, I just enjoy making music and it's easier to have myself singing badly than to have to rely on anyone else. So here you go. Make of it what you will.
I'm still not in a foul mood, which is good. Hopefully I'll make it through the week without reverting. I wrote a blog last night, I forgot what I wrote. Everyone's gone to uni, or is leaving soon (I think I said that) which sorta sucks, but it means I'll have lots of time to myself, which I enjoy in a twisted way. I can write as much music as I please. I've still got Fayefaye and Jenni, among others, anyway, so I'm not actually that alone at all, I s'pose (since they are two of me best friends). I so wish I was going to uni now, though. Mainly just for the independance. Sure, it's nice to be catered for at home... But I like being alone sometimes, and that's hard with a family. At least I get on with them on the whole, though...
Anyway I'm gonna go write some more tunes, I'm loving it.

Peace out, y'all.

The Shining scared me, softcore.

Being HARDCORE! is quite dangerous and may result in injury.

I'm enjoying my acoustic/piano solo music at the moment, decided to make a MySpace for it (it's the quickest and easiest way of putting your music on the 'net... Let's be honest, we all know soundclick and purevolume are inferior), but it's being really irritating and not letting me create a profile. "There was an error processing your request, please try again." Grr. Oh well, not like people are clamouring to hear my music anyway. I will be the next biggest-thing-since-sliced-bread, though. One day...

Got some cool new shit today. Spending money on myself is (one of) the most shallow thing(s) that cheers me up. I'm feeling quite positive lately, as in yesturday and today. Bowling was good, as is hangin' wit' 27. Word to that. My job still sucks, but not much I can do about it really. Everyone's gone/going within a week ot two to university now pretty much, so it's not like if I was unemployed I'd have much of a life. One problem is that I don't identify with my co-workers, because they are so much older than me, and because I don't identify with the general population.

I'm enjoying Weezer. I've only ever listened to the newer album, I think it's about time I gave the older stuff a chance.

I don't have a whole lot to say when I'm in an alright mood. I'm thinking about how I keep changing my appearance so much. It's getting on my nerves, as always. I think I need to embrace being a geek and give uo the black nailvarnish and stuff. I only do it to be outrageous these days anyway. And anyone who overthinks this much is clearly a nerd. Also, autumn is here, which means scarves, jumpers, coats and other adorable geek-chique bullshit that I love so much. So hooray!

So I says to Greg, I says...

"I want to be more like this, more like that, etc. Why can't I just stop fucking caring and be happy with who I am? And then that itself is saying "why can't I be more like this?"
Fucking paradox...... Whats the plural of paradox?"

I want a dcuppaz#.

My keyboard is fixed.

SO Richard Hammond (or however you spell it) was in a car accident trying to break the land speed record, I hear. This is quite sad, but far more tragic things happen every day, why does this make the headlines? Because he's a celebrity. Like Steve Irwin. Thousands die every day, why do we care more about famous people? That's a stupid question actually. But the reason I don't like all the attention they get is because it isn't "shocking" as so many people claim; if you fuck with deadly animals and speeding vehicles every day of your carreer, something is bound to go wrong eventually. Sure, no-one expected a sting-ray to be the end of the "crocodile hunter", but still. Play with fire and you're gonna get burnt. Burned? One of the two; the gramatically correct one. I hate posting a second blog right after a video, I feel it distracts from it; please watch it after you've read this.
On my way to work this morning I could hardly breath. My chest felt like I'd inhaled a few knives. I guess I'm not all better. So I probably won't be going anywhere tonight, which SUCKS because I've already paiud for what sounds like it's going to be an awesome party. I was also listening to PHM by NIN, FUCK what an amazing album. It is NOTHING like you would expect from the name "Nine Inch Nails", so if you haven't heard anything from them, or even if you haven't heard anything from Pretty Hate Machine, I implore you to do so. Specifically listen to 'That's What I Get'. Masterpiece.
I had something else to say, but I forget.

Everyone watch the video!

... To End All Wars.

Check MATE.

Break yo' fuckin' face tonight (it's just one o' those days)

Christ.
I went to sleep last night in such a refreshing mood. After a lovely telephonecall with Hauwa that left me cheery, I listened to "Everybody's Free (To Wear Sunscreen)" by Baz Luhrman (Presents), and it gave me a sorta perspective. Made me think about life. I've been complaing a lot about everything lately and I'm not sure I like it. I've been getting angry over the most trivial things and I've generally been foul-mooded. I decided that no, I'm gonna realise that this achieves nothing; just let go.
But today was a wonderful reminder of why I fucking hate everything and everyone (clearly, I'm exagerating, fuckwit).
ARGH! That's all I have tosay about today. ARGH! No I don't, I got a whole fuckin' blog to say (thought you'd escaped? fat chance, fat fuck):
First off, waking up half an hour earlier was harder than expected. Ahh, I can't be fuckt with the trivial stuff:
At work, about £10,000 got paid into the wrong person's account (who promptly withdrew it and ran away) in my handwriting. Shit.
My keyboard on my laptop is broken. This means I have no life. Yeah, it's pathetic, but I do spend most of my free time on my laptop. So fuck, fuck, fuck.
I downloaded a Star Wars game, at the advice of Tom. Looks brilliant. Took 13 hours to download. All day I've been thinking "at least I can play my game when I get home". Install it. Restart computer. Single-player mode doesn't work. Error, or some shit. FFFFFUCK YOU!
See, it's days like this that I think maybe there is a God: "Oh, life isn't so bad I guess..." *uh-oh... SMITE, SMITE, SMITE!*
Fucker.
And then there's the whole Matt's-blog's-comments-fiasco. I don't know what to say. It's all a bit silly. It's quite obvious how everyone reading my best friend's blog is going to feel, and I'm pretty happy that people are supporting me, even if it is in, shall we say, "unorthodox" methods. Arguing about typos is stupid, and just because someone doesn't agree with the opposing side doesn't mean they are necessarily agreeing with you. It's also not wise to thank someone who says "I don't hate sluts," that's basically admitting to being a slut.
Then again calling someone a cunt is pretty harsh, even if I maybe do ever-so-slightly agree. But like I said, it is on my best friend's blog, I'd be pretty upset if sympathy was found there of all places. But I'm not saying I want people to be horrible. I'm not bothered by the anonymity, it's the only way to keep the uppser hand, really, so anonymouse isn't a proud moron. And cowards are usually the survivors... I dunno. My morals are pretty fucked up. But morality is a concept created by mankind, so outside our petty lives it doesn't really exist; so what's the point in it? Argue with that, let's get another decent philosophical debate going. I'm rambling now, but that's just because I'm going to be kciked off here at some point. I've lost the freedom to blog at will, so I'm getting in all I can, while I can.
Also, Alissa accused (or heard that it was) Jordana, regarding the afforementionned "anonymouse", which upset me. I dunno who is starting rumours about it, but everyone, shut the fuck up with gossip. Argue online if you must, in person if anonymouse comes forward and admits it (even though they could be lying), but Jesus, it's OBVIOUS why people feel the way they do. If you play with fire you're gonna get burnt. So throwing napalm isn't smart. Anyway, I'm officially not taking sides, please direct any comments to my attourney, Hauwa.
I'd like to reiterate (if that is, indeed, how it is spelled): fuck the world.
Ok well, I've run out of things to say... Oh, well done Jenni, Old Dunstonians beat the other losers 10-5 (apparently, I couldn't keep track) in their first ladies' rugby match on Sunday; it was a rad' day. I look forward to many more games.
And bring on fucking autumn already, summer freaking SUCKS, I'm tired of being hot.

ENOUGH!

Thomas and I

Tom seemed to have some bitterness in his last video... I am responding accordingly. Please enjoy:

A Tale of Two Friends


Take THAT, jive-sucker.

Bloggin', bloggin', and I hope ya like bloggin', too.

I blog a lot, s'pretty cool. I might read over some of my old posts in a minute (after all, my favourite subject matter is myself). Got more ideas for videos, stay tuned. My mum is annoyed with me for wanting to take a day off work tomorrow even though I am genuinely ill. she is without reason sometimes.
I love blogging. I never would have thought it'd be my thing. I'm not much of a writer or reader (bad as that is), but it's been half a year nearly and I'm still typing away at this thing.
Gonna go away to Canada in January mit Jordana hopefully, then to California(aaaaaaaaaaa) in March with Fayeski BEAT, yo. Excelent. I also might quit my job in the new year and find a job that suits my needs more (i.e. don't tell me what to wear, doesn't requite a commute and isn't as stressful or boring). Obviously not many people actually enjoy their job, but this is hell. I'm gonna hold on for as long as possible, though, because the money is really good.
Avenged Sevenfold are good, also, Waking the Fallen is quality. Fuck you, Tom, you're just plain wrong.
Blog, blog, blog, I love this shit! I could never keep a diary, but I dunno. I feel like I'm being heard. Even though I type as if no-one else is going to read it. It's brilliant. Perhaps there's a writer in me, waiting to get out (although judging from the comments on my Romeo and Juliet blog, perhaps not. I did "rape it of all literary value").
Anywho... I really want to quit my job, but the money... The money! I've totally sold out. There's a war waging in my head constantly. Bah.

To Canada!

Introducing...

The Amazing Worm!
My old love for making movies was rekindled when I saw Tom's latest video; it's pretty good, just like being back at Bullers, watching Tom play with paint (only at double speed with a decent soundtrack).
I am currently in the process of editing a short-film of sorts (as in it's about 20 minutes long). It's taking ages and it isn't fun to do. It's a chore. The only reason I make videos is because I enjoy doing so. So at midnight I decided to make a new little "Jack" video. By 2am it had been a basic idea, then a concept, then a set plan, then a storyboard in my head, then I shot it, whacked it all together, came up with some more and shot that, smacked it all in, chose a song and bam! It was finished. Gay old Windows Movie Maker took a fucking hour to actually save the fucker, though; damn you, Microsoft. But it's now uploaded and ready for you all to drool over. It's only short, but I took about 350 photos to make, so appreciate it! It isn't hilarious, it isn't that artistic, hell, it's barely even original, but I had a blast making it, so expect more. ENJOY!

The Amazing Worm in "Foraging"

I'm not arrogant, I'm just right

OK so there's this thought process that's been in my head for a while now, but I have trouble explaining it in the way I want. People always argue with it, but it isn't my opinion, it's an observation.
Basically, it's about how people call me arrogant because I always think that what I believe is right.
But this is a ridiculous notion because the term "believe" pretty much means "what you think is right".
I believe I am in my room. Because I think, based on evidence, that I am in my room. I am going to say "I am in my room" because I think I'm right. I believe it, therefore I think it's right.
This means that everyone thinks they are right. It is not possible to believe what you believe is wrong, that's a contradiction, and a really obvious one, too.

I don't think I've explained this very well. If you disagree then it means I haven't because, like I say, it's an observation, not opinion (although I suppose you can disagree with the observation, but I don't think many people understand what I'm trying to get at, they usually just say "no, because what if you lose your faith?" - well then obviously you believe you WERE wrong, you don't continue believing in a God you don't believe exists).

Darn my inarticulacy.

Pity Me More

It's four hours after I woke up soaked with sweat. I decided to try sleeping again. My bed is still wet. Fuck.

Pity Me

This is the first time in a long while I've written a blog out of boredom. Lately I have been pretty busy or had something that I wanted to say in here. Right now I just can't sleep and the last decent person on my MSN list just went to bed. So this is all I have left.
I like blogging. I'm not the most articulate person, but I really enjoy writing... Even though this isn't particularly ground-breaking stuff, I'm having fun.
I can't sleep because I think I have pneumoania. I enjoy saying that because it sounds really bad. Self-diagnosed, but I think I'm justified:
"People with infectious pneumonia often have a cough that produces greenish or yellow sputum (yep) and a high fever (yep) that may be accompanied by shaking chills (yep). Shortness of breath (yep) is also common, as is pleuritic chest pain (yep), a sharp or stabbing pain, either felt or worse during deep breaths or coughs (both). People with pneumonia may cough up blood (no), experience headaches (yep), or develop sweaty and clammy skin (which is why I can't sleep)." - Wikipedia
I went to bed at 1.30 am and woke up in pain at about 2.30. My beadsheets and duvet and pillow and hair were all soaked with sweat. Not just damp, but wet enough to squeeze drips out of. Mmm. So I got frustrated, as I always do when I don't get a decent night's sleep. No one can sleep in a wet bed, and I didn;t really know what to do about it. I decided to go on my laptop for the first time in about four days (and found about a million MSN messages - sorry) and it's now 6.12 am. admittedly I did have a shower at one point, but that only took 15 minutes.
I miss this, being able to stay up all night. I fucking hate my job. I wish I could afford to quit. I keep telling myself "only ten more months," but this past one month has gone depressingly slowly. I really hate my job. I say it a lot, but I don't think anyone understands just how much I hate it. I know: "well stop whining and quit then"; it's not that simple. I need to give my parents quite a lot of money a month, and if i want any cash for myself for petrol and so on, I need to keep it. At least for now. I think I said this before but if I ever did have a soul, it's dead now.
Anyway now my sleep pattern is totally fukt, meaning next week will probably be worse than usual, aside from Titbox on Wednesday. I might take time off work, I am pretty sick. It pisses me off that I booked a holiday for Wednesday when I'll probably be too ill to work then anyway.

Delving Further Into Newspapers (Or Not)

I meant to write this in the blog I posted earlier, but it slipped my mind and I was in a slight hurry; the bath was waiting. I do see what Greg means about newspapers making him think more, if anything, but I agree with Steve, people do just bury themselves in it. Reading a news article doesn't always invoke deep thought within me, and I usually forget all about the topic by the time I'm home. I'd much rather contemplate within my own mind, think thoughts that are my own. I do listen to music, so I'm not bothered by others around me (well, I am, but I can ignore them a little better), and I suppose this can lead my thoughts in the same way a news article can, only I feel more passionately about music than printed word.
Is it wierd to just listen to music? If I were to sit in a room, doing nothing but listening to music (and thinking again), would I be considered strange? I think I would (perhaps not, perhaps it's me, not society, with the inhibition); but I am stimulating one of my senses. People sit in rooms doing nothing but watching television and this is perfectly normal. They are stimulating two senses, not one, but they are also probably thinking less, or thinking about less meaningful things. This is not to say television is rubbish (I don't love it, though), as there are decent, thought-provoking programmes and some films are pieces of art in their own right, I just don't understand why just listening to music is "wierd" (in the eyes of society (or not, I could be wrong)), but just watching TV is almost expected of people in the western world. That's what I thought about while not reading a newspaper today. Maybe some of you think my thoughts are stupid, maybe I should stop refusing the free papers shoved in my face up to four times on my walk to the tube station.
Lav, insightful as ever, I do agree with what you said about people's comments; it was just phrases such as "i hate that blog it sucks... this is dire" that shocked me and caused a knee-jerk reaction of being offended.

I'm going to bed.

My best friends think I'm just humping guys... Alright.

I don't know who posted anonymously on my R'n'J blog, but I like 'em.
Greg's right: Plan B is awesome.
When I write openly about my feelings on here, people say I shouldn't.
When I attempt some sub-text, people don't get it and criticise/insult me.
Why is it only raining at night, lately? I want to be awake to experience it.

That's all for now.

Misery Is The River Of The World

Three blogs in one day, you lucky fuckers.
professorterror.co.uk is no more. I discovered streamline.net had taken a total of about £150 from my bank account on friday, which, needless to say, pissed me off. I sent them an e-mail thing asking them what the blooming heck was going on. Apparently I had not one, but two free-three-month-trial accounts with them. Hmm, yes, I remember now. But why would a free-three-month-trial account cost me £75? Well, that's easy, silly! It CLEARLY says in the terms and conditions that if you do not upgrade your account or cancel your account before the three months is up, they will very kindly automatically upgrade your account for you. Isn't that nice? Of course, the default upgrade is obviously the most expensive. I think that's really sneaky; if you don't tell them not to, they will take loads of money from your bank account. Rude. So after A long e-argument, I finally got my money refunded, but after that I didn't feel like buying something from them, so I just closed professorterror.co.uk. It was mostly just a bunch of links, no real content. I might look into getting some free web-hosting for the stuff that isn't on youtube, myspace or this blog, but that isn't much.
In other news, I went to Zoe's on Friday which was pretty cool, and Arieges the day after, which was also pretty cool. There was lots of bitterness at both, and I got pretty angry/upset at the latter. However I also spent time with some of the best people I've ever met (and a lot of time with one of the best), so I guess it all balances out.
On the journey home I thought about how everyone reads newspapers on trains; I don't like that. They only do it to keep themselves occupied, but when I want to be occupied, I think. I thought that sounded stupid when I first thought it, but then on the train I came up with the Romeo and Juliet idea, which I am exceedingly proud of, so I stand by my non-newspaper-reading ways. News is depressing, anyway. I want to make the Romeo and Juliet thing into a spoken word song. Watch this space.

Listen to Tom Waits.

Romeo and Juliet: The Happy Ending

So Romeo has heard of Juliet’s death. He rushes to her tomb where his worst fears are confirmed. He draws his dagger, tears streaming down his cheeks. He raises it, as Juliet awakens. She screams, catches his hand in the nick of time. They embrace. Each feels ecstatic.
The Capulets are so overjoyed at the news of their daughter’s new life, that they end the feud with the Montagues. The couple re-marry, and everyone shares their utter happiness. The two move in together, nice place, lots of space. Not long ‘til a kid comes along.
Lord Capulet passes away. He leaves nothing to the happy couple; turns out he never really did forgive the Montagues. Bad blood rises once more between the families. The young couple leave the city and make themselves a new home.
Later that year, the Montague family are involved with some tax evasion offences. Declare bankruptcy. The couple are ruined. Romeo has to get a job; he hates it, but it’s worth it to keep the wife and child he loves so dearly alive.
He gets home one day to find no dinner on the table. Hungry and irritable, he moans at his love. She snaps back and it escalates into a shouting competition. Later they both sheepishly apologise and carry on as normal. They vow never to argue again.
A few weeks later Romeo is searching for his old rapier; questions his lady. She explains how she threw “that rusty old toy” away. Romeo explodes - the argument rages for hours. That evening, embarrassed, they both act like nothing happened.
Not long after, Romeo, on his way home from the job he loathes, is accosted by a young man who asks for some spare change. Grudgingly, Romeo gets out his wallet. The man grabs at it, but Romeo pushes him down with ease. As he turns to walk away, four much larger men step out from an alleyway. Three of them hold him as the other two beat and rob him. He is shown sympathy from Juliet when he arrives home, but she soon gets tired of his self-pity. Accusing him of being self-absorbed, she kick-starts a chain reaction of built-up irritations, and the worst quarrel yet emerges. The next few days are as normal, but with a distinct air of bitterness.
Romeo takes a much needed holiday and visits some of his family for a few days. However his welcome is worn out sooner than expected, and he heads home two days early. His curtains are drawn, and he enters the house suspiciously. The slamming door causes scuffles from the bedroom. He opens the door with apprehension, only to be staring at another man in his bed. But the man is not alone.
After a three-day-long argument, Juliet leaves Romeo’s life with the only person to never betray him; the six month old child. Juliet gets a job to survive.
Much of Romeo’s wages are put towards his local pub’s profit.
She is abandoned by the child she was too busy to love.
Both die alone and unhappy.

The moral of the story: kill yourself when you are happy to avoid a life of misery, because in the end, everyone fucks you over.

Shh... Men are talking...

I’m at work, talking to Ariege about blogs. She has one now. It can be found here. We were discussing which blogs we like to read, and we both feel that our lives don’t have anything interesting enough to write about, let alone read about.
She suggested I write about her in a blog, so I thought I’d go a step further and write a blog about her. Anyway, I’m not being given any work to do, so I may as well type so it looks like I’m here for a reason. But enough about me.
I’ve been around her for two years now, but I’d say I’ve only really known her for one; she’s fairly quiet and/or shy. Met her at school (Bullers), I don’t really remember what my first impressions were, owing to the fact that I met about 200 new people in the space of a single day (I still don’t know the first names of some people I spoke to on a semi-regular basis).
My first interactions with Ariege were group conversations of which we were both a part. She probably formed better impressions of me than I of her, as I am somewhat of a loud-mouthed malcontent, whereas she is more reserved. I do not remember what the subject matter of said conversations was, but I can imagine it spanned a wide range of topics, most likely covering religion, prejudice, music, television and “what would you do if…?”s.

* * *

I had to stop writing this for about four hours… I’ll try and pick up where I left off, but I thought it best to explain myself, lest there be a slight judder in the flow of my prose.

Over the weeks, and eventual months, I began to form some sort of opinion of Ariege: it is difficult to sum up my basic interpretation in only a few words. Quiet and reserved, yet with an air of rebellion; though she has strong convictions, she does not preach.

* * *

This isn’t really going anywhere. I don’t know where to take the flow next. I’ll talk about her more casually now:

She’s short. She’s fairly easy going, and even when you grind her gears she’ll still laugh as she gets angrier and angrier. She’s a feminist (or something along those lines) and likes Rise Against (but she likes good music, too). She’s a Mormon (I think – one of those wacky religious types, anyway) and she likes a good debate. Her arguments never convince me, but they aren’t ridiculous. Her pet peeves include (but are not limited to) sexism (probably other ‘-ism’s, too) and ignorance. She’s more intelligent than she lets on, she got five grade As at A-level. The most fun you can have at her expense is making comments such as “yeah, she got five As, but they were Art and Photography and stuff, so they don’t really count”. A memorable mention should go here to Ben(ny) who legendarily said to her, in context, “Quiet: men are talking” (or something to that effect). Quite possibly the funniest thing I have heard in a long while. One of the most enjoyable things you can do with Ariege (not like that, you fucks) is converse; she is one of the few people who has the rare ability to hold an intelligent conversation.
One thing to avoid with her is MSN; it’s not the best way of communicating, as it is, due to it’s inability to convey the tone of something. Ariege tends to type things in a way which sounds rude (even though unintentional). However it’s usually funny, so it’s alright.

I’m running out of things to say again. I might wrap it up for now, then come back and add more later.

All in all, I’d say Ariege is a good person and a good friend, and she’s well worth your time.

* * *

I wrote this about a week ago and forgot to do anything with it. I’ve remembered my first proper encounter with Ariege, though: I spoke to her and Charlotte O’Dea about music in the kitchen of (D)Inglewood in the first few weeks of my starting sixth form at Bullers - I played them some Alec Empire. They seemed to enjoy it, but they might have just been being polite.

This blog is horrendously disjointed and probably quite a chore to read; apologies.
Hope you like it, (fuckin’) A.

Machine Head - All Falls Down

I have decided that this is the ultimate metal song for me. Perhaps the mind-numbing commute home from the mind-numbing job makes music sound better (in fact it does), but I listened to 'All Falls Down' on the way home yesturday and I realised how it's such a fantastic song. 'Through The Ashes Of Empires' is one of the few metal albums I even listen to anymore. Machine Head are severly underrated. I know they are fairly popular, but they are technically talented when it comes to each of their instruments, his singing style is fairly original, and some of the riffs they churn out are pretty damn amazing. I'm gonna listen to the song and type through it now:

The intro to this song is so atmospheric; starting sparse, then the subtle bass in the background compliments the reverbing tinkle of the guitar, and the vocals are simply delicious. When the drums kick in, it gets going a little, yet doesn't get frantic, just keeps the pace going. Then as they cut out, you know somethings about to happen - it all kicks off. Same riff, but played more... METAL.
Then we go back to the atmospheric part again, and back into the angry part, this time with vocals. There's a frickin' vocal harmony in the middle of the growling! Beautiful. Rob Flynn's voice is incredible, so versatile.
"Believe everything you've heard about me"
This song makes me want to nod/bang my head - a good sign.
Then we get this nice little mid-part, like a variation on the intro, with some lovely vocal melodies (with the odd harmony). Then it builds, and builds...
Then the guitar-only riff is dripping with anticipation.
The backup vocals! Every song should have some alternating growls.
Then it goes all out for the ending and finishes with a bang and a grunt. Rockin'.

Fucking fantastic song.

People...

... Suck. Everyone lets you down. You can't trust anyone. I haven't seen my close friends for a while (I was all pissed at them because they go out quite a bit it seems and don't even bother asking me, but I got over it) so I decide to organise something for Sunday, before they all go to University and what-not. Called one. Couldn't get through. Called another. Found out they were all in a casino in Brighton.
If you don't like me and don't want me hanging around with you, fucking tell me, because I'm sick of so-called friends fucking me around and then making ME feel bad when I get upset by it.

Happiness By The Kilowatt

I'm not very good with words unless I have time to think them over; talking about feelings has never been my favourite past-time. That's why I like posting blogs so much. I can get my feelings out in an articulate manner. It is also good because I can be as self-absorbed as I like without worrying about it - if people don't want to read about me, they can stop at any time without offending me.
So I write my feelings on here. I sometimes get a little feedback, which is greatly appreciated. But the most impoartant thing is that I never ever meant to hurt anyone. But if I can't talk about my feelings on here, then I feel trapped in my own head. Sure, I babble about how fukt I feel constantly to anyone willing to listen, and I probably come off as a total prick in fact, but I still feel completely pent up. It's only after writing a blog that I feel I've successfully managed to get everything off my chest.
All I have to say right now is that I don't really like my life very much at the moment. At all.
Tom, Deathstars used to be good - the first album is alright. But I agree, the new song is quite bad. NOW DRINK THE CYANIIIIIDE!
Greg, upon closer inspection, City and Colour are/is in fact super awesome. The lyrics are superb, and the harder you listen, the less samey-samey it sounds.