Retarded Jellyfish: behold her offensive tomfoolery!

The Destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah

Sun, 06 Sep 2009 18:45:15 GMT

I'm part of a Visual Dialogues project at the Laing Art Gallery for a few months and today was the first day! Noone knew what we were doing exactly but I did some rummaging beforehand and thought it was something to do with interpretation.
Turns out the project involves making an exhibition or something similar around the work of John Martin. John Martin is the man who painted 'The Destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah' .. which just happens to be my favourite piece of art :D
So it's pretty beast and the people involved are really quite cool so it promises to be an interesting venture.

http://tallyessin.files.wordpress.com/2009/07/john_martin_painting1.jpg

Dear Dream Diary

Sun, 16 Aug 2009 22:21:08 GMT

Ok. there was a large building and i was exploring. In the middle of one of the rooms was a big wooden staircase with no banisters and i started going up it but a man came and said 'what are you doing? that's my staircase; you're not allowed to use it'. so i went exploring some more and found a soundbooth. I came across the sonnen-burgers rehearsing and went to sit down where i thought i ought to

(i saw suza and teddy, only it turns out it was suza and beth and ted was sat half a row away) someone shouts 'east' and i watch as we go on stage. sit talking to beth and ask 'why are we all in black? we look like we're going to a wedding' then i go back and try to climb the staircase again but get stopped again

i'm sat in a room which the sonnen-burgers are using and theres several (jan, vedran,alex) drawing on the table. i'm sat under the table trying to fit inbetween the legs. i get stuck and ask alex to help me out but get free just as he's about to. Vedran has a sleeping bag around him to the waist and i go to him but he pushes me away seeing he has a cold. i give him my coat and go.

then in a very movie-like way i see anke running all over a town.

she ends up knocking on a door and i open it for her (though i'm not actually there) and she knocks on the church door. the priest however is talking to her ex-boyfriend who is now going with a very butch woman and anke goes over and they all go into the church

i hide behind a curtain as they do and other people come and hide with me.

we then follow but the room before anke is a nursery and we stop and play with the kids but the teacher doesn't like it. she looks at me skeptically but i just act as i usually do around childern. everyone paints the walls. some men in the garden are carrying a giant sarcophagus that looks lik it's made of lego and the skeleton head falls off and inside is brown something that looks like acrylic paint when there's too much water in the tube. then a man comes at me with a camera and we get escorted to the room anke is in - turns out the priest is on the boyfriend's side. they'd told the kids that we were cannibals and that the feet on the wall they were painting were uncle larry's. i get crazed and start shouting at them telling them how unethical it is and why and that they need to debrief the kids, kids parents, all participants retc.. and how it is unwise to conduct anything lik this and i was going to report them to the board.

paint represents 'expressing your inner emotions', stairs – someone’s stopping me from understanding, kids – personal growth ( is being corrupted), cannibalism – forbidden desire, marriage – transition, maybe sorrow

El ministro

Thu, 16 Jul 2009 11:08:12 GMT

Well guys, this is the ultimate day in the UK.

Yesterday several of my theatre group went on an incapacitating bus ride down to the capital in order to see the minister of justice. He's a very nice man actually :) and really gave an honest (or so seeming) opinion of the questions raised.
We then lolled around in St James' park for a while and went for food. Miso again :p
What I thought would be a really good night was watching the open air opera in Trafalgar square and we remained for just short of an hour (they supplied air cushions so as not to dampen one's heiny) however it was not to be due to cries of boredom and sore bums.
So we trundled along to Buckingham Palace so Emma could be a tourist and then to a pub near victoria station called 'the shakespeare' which was quite a pleasant place :)

I trust you are all well, I shall write when I have more to say of Germany.

P.S - the ministers get bitchin' coffee prices.

Words!

Fri, 10 Jul 2009 17:57:59 GMT

Ok, here's the sitch:
leave a comment saying 'Words!' and I shall leave you a list of five words. You then go on to explain what these words mean to you in your own journal and declare the same.

These are mine from Lexie:

Fudge

I am a supreme fudge maker, one of the most modest in the land :p. I recently found that I can make chewy fudge by adding honey but my brother (who complains my fudge isn't chewy enough) refuses to eat it on principle.
Whether it be a celebration or a mundane monday, I often am packing fudge.
My favourite fudge is white chocolate fudge however the chocolate does need to be counter balanced or it dries out much quiker.

Silly Faces

I pull these a lot n_n My most requseted face is 'The Turtle' however the most common is 'The Blowfish'.
Alex is a dear fro returning them - always has been - and now the automatic response is to mirror me. It's quite pleasant :)

Scottish Accent

Oh dear. I can't do accents, I'm abysmal. I barely have a proper accent of my own, it contorts so often.
When I'm drunk I tend to slip into a scottish accent (very badly) and don't even try to shake it off. This then slips into welsh, pakistani and spanish.

Remus/Sirius

I have a fond memory of shouting across the crowded sportshall at Alex: 'what, you only ship hetero?' and her blushing like a red balloon.
It was true. Now look at her.
Quite sensational, I love the pair; it's practically canon. Sirius being my preference, I can't fault his taste though.

Vivian Westwood

For those who don't know, Vivian Westwood is a punk designer. I bought a necklace at christmas (courtesy of Auntie Pam) and within a month or two had lost the orb T_T I almost wept.
She's had some fashion blunders, sure, but all in all she's got fine taste.
She looks crazy O_O bright orange hair, physique like the crypt keeper. I'd like to look like her as a granny.

Harold Schuuman

Tue, 07 Jul 2009 11:22:50 GMT

CSS

Ever since the postal service went private I’ve had a calling. I was prematurely fresh from university life and the privatised system meant there were jobs going spare.

I’ve never felt as at home as I do working for the CSS. You see, since the privatisation, many opposing courier companies have spawned, all of which show the utmost respect for the other companies, understanding that the public’s mail is a sacred vessel of pulp and ink. However, the human mind is a curious thing and if there is a sacred vessel we must wonder why it is so sacred. That’s where I come in. No, I’m not one of these spies you hear about, nor a government official; I am a member of the Courier Sabotage Service.

Like I say, it’s not heavy stuff, a smudge here, a line there, if the posties really did care about their job they would ensure a way for envelopes to be free from tampering. Laminate them, or something.

It’s my job to make sure that the couriers are at their best, not growing sloppy. If they advertise how they will ‘go to the ends of the earth’ to deliver your package then a little misdirection shouldn’t be a problem. We keep them on the game. You should be thanking me for keeping the cost of a postage stamp low and courier standards high.

It’s not all that easy to get into this business either. Some people think all you have to do is start tampering at home and we’ll come find you. Boy, are they wrong.

It takes skill. This is guerrilla posting at its best. I’ve hitched on FedEx planes; I’ve blown up a paper mill, mailed myself to a sorting plant. It takes guts. It takes skill. Practically every month you are hearing of another CSO found and ‘questioned’. They think one must have a mental incapacity to sabotage the majestic system that underpins the whole British way of life.

As for you: I don’t think you’re capable.

I first made my way into the service by painting a post box green. It sounds impressive on it’s own but when you realise I did it in central London, where even at night there are CCTV and passer-by’s it has so much more impact. Yeah, that was me. Of course, Imperial College couldn’t have a student as susceptible to environmentalist impulses as to risk his place on the course and quite promptly curbed me.

Yet the saboteurs didn’t come to me for another seven months. I was turned away from each job I applied to; it was bad enough that I didn’t have a university degree but a petty record too kind of sealed the deal. I began posting water bombs. A genius idea of mine if I do say so, which inspired imitation by the big boys themselves. After receiving a letter from my girlfriend over in Taiwan saying she had fallen for one of the people she had volunteered to help it went global. There’s a way of opening the bottom corner of an envelope just enough to push a small ink pellet in, which then explodes under the high pressure of cargo planes. I was in the airmail hangar anyway and my rage hadn’t subsided simply by destroying her mail (to be sent to her family, her friends, her bank) and so I crept into the outgoing mail and planted as many as I could. In some, I would put two pellets for a tie dye effect.

So you see, it’s nothing personal, you’re just not good enough. There’s no innovation, no necessitation, no anarchic order to you. If it was as simple as destroying mail you might be in for a chance, but sabotage is an artform. Tough break, kid.

Thu, 02 Jul 2009 20:35:11 GMT

I'm in a weird place between remembering dreams and not. I can recall them for an hour or so and as soon as i stop concentrating on them I forget them.
It's annoying. I want to dream and dream and dream.

Wind-up Chronicling

Tue, 16 Jun 2009 15:51:57 GMT

I got a tattoo this afternoon! :)

It's very colourful, very unique.. and hell, it didn't really hurt either. :)
Though when it did it was face-scrunchingly so.

There's a meaning too, It's a wind-up bird with a queen of spades behind it.
The queen of spades is from the passion and shows the overbearing passion for something you can't have; whereas the wind-up bird is from Haruki Murakami and though it's not my favourite murakami i do like it. He's got some good ideas, strongly planted in real life, though, so i was very surprised to like him.

Video

Sat, 06 Jun 2009 16:31:21 GMT

I made a KICK-ASS stopmotion movie last night, that nobody can access T_T.
Severus Snape goes to Japan to save his daughter but ends up getting eaten by a dinosaur.

I can only play it with my mp3 hooked in as i nobbed up the sound. :/

Compound Adjectives

Sat, 25 Apr 2009 21:46:32 GMT

I watched History Boys today.
I fell in love with it. Though I'm not sure whether to say it or Alan Bennet.
It's less word play as it is grammar, performed with a patronising humour reserved for those that know how to make the blood boil whilst holding back anything harmful. It's insinuation. It's euphemisms. It's the ochestrated relationships and the too good to be true situation.
It's the way Dakin flirts on with Irwin for the sheer pleasure of it's reception. It's the 'no idea' of it all.

I'll probably take all of this back within the week but I don't care. As of the moment, it feels like I've worded it well enough, though I may be lacking of compound adjectives.

RJ

Without A Trace

Sun, 19 Apr 2009 21:44:42 GMT

She's disappeared, not from my life but from my world. All those with contact seem to have lost it, she's a ghost.
It's not surprising, just hurtful. I feel that we deserve an explanation. She'll have known that we feel as if we are owed an explanation and part of her probably feels like we are too.
There's so many possibilities. Some frightening.
The recent dream cameo's of myself and R, something that despite my fascination for dreams I would otherwise overlook, today seems poignant after listening to J talk of her carcrash melodrama today.

She's the kind of person who can live many lives and the remnants of the one I speak were primed to be left behind but it doesn't feel right. It's not clean cut. She left us messy, disshevelled.

So tell me: what's eating Samantha Baker?

RJ

marauding

Tue, 24 Mar 2009 21:09:45 GMT

The Marauders are off maruading once more!
TO LONDON

tally ho and all that jazz.

Oxford

Fri, 20 Mar 2009 22:08:19 GMT

So for the last 3 days I've been in Oxford, staying at Trinity College.

What a beautiful city!!

And so practical, it's got the perfect mix of shops and beautiful buildings - and they were all on my doorstep!

Trinity had good grounds, good buildings and I loved the staircases but for me I think it lacked a bit of personality. It will no doubt be different when there are more students about but it did seem quite stifled.

Hertford is where the heart is though... It is such a gorgeous college, it had me reeling.

______

The professors seem nice too. I've talked to The Professor of Latin American Studies and the course sounds very interesting - The spanish course is based heavily on literature and the academic appliaction of spanish, which simply sounded a delight.

The english professor I spoke to clearly loved her subject and we had a nice little discussion, course seems interesting but there's no personal prose in the assessment - something that I think I'd kind of want.

There was no psychology tutor but I attended a Criminology seminar by one Jay Phoenix Singh ... who is amazing and totally rocked that sweater. Hands down. It was about Psychopathy and I did know a lot of the content discussed but the case studies were really intereresting. And that guy had charisma.
______

I was expecting more stuffy people too, hard not to I suppose.
______

I've stumbled into an indecision concerning my course subjects though. I was dead set on Psychology and Spanish and have been for some time but I kind of don't want to drop English.

The course sounded wonderful and has made me think that it's a part of my life I don't want to isolate to social time alone but I don't want to give up the chance of Psychology. I know I'll regret it if I do.
______

I'm actually considering Oxford aswell now. It's highly unlikely I'll get the grades required (AAA) but I've fallen in love with the city and the intimacy of the learning.
And Jesus Christ they've got some nice libraries.
But it is an intensive course, no joke. For English you're expected to read about four books a week and write two essays. For Spanish you're likely to attend 6 lectures... on top of study and essays and tutorials..

The social scene is much better than I thought aswell. :)
______

I'd be tempted to apply in all honesty but the fact that it must be your confirmed choice if they accept you is daunting. I would happily go for interview if I knew I could turn down the university if I got the illustrious AAA but knowing that you must go if they accept you isn't something I'd be happy to do.
I'm gonna get my head in order this week. Promise.

RJ
xx

Coursework

Thu, 05 Mar 2009 23:26:40 GMT

You know when you read something over and it's just terrible but it's too late to do anything about it? Ugh.

Fran's 18th

Sun, 01 Mar 2009 14:32:04 GMT

well, what is there to say?

Last night I got drunk. I danced with many a person, I bit about 3... I had my picture taken by Anita Atkinson waaay too many times, I mixed one too many a drink and sat on the cheesecake.

The cheesecake was actually quite funny, I thought it was just a table with a cloth on.. then got purple stains and a wet sensation on my WHITE leggings. haha. Luckily I decided to wear a skirt over them.. that didn' t cover the stains, so off with the leggings.. hello argyle tights. I looked a little slutty but people knew it was cheesecake related sluttiness.

That makes it alright.

And R took a liking to my whip. I don't want images of R with a whip in my head thank you very much. We talked sex quite a bit actually :/ It's been decided R told a white lie as we know she had sex when she was with M.

Twas a smashing night :)

RJ
xx

The Boy

Thu, 26 Feb 2009 19:23:23 GMT

This is the third draft of my English coursework for AS. It's had about 700 words cut but they're gone forever.
My style model was American Psycho by Bret Easton Ellis... let me know what you think, I've been told I'll get a decent mark for it.

____________________

PEOPLE LOOK AT ME AS IF I’M ABNORMAL as I walk down the crowded hallway trying not to knock anyone but it’s really hard as they’re everywhere and I’m wearing an olive green tee shirt today, chequered belt with an aluminium slide buckle, stoned blue skinny jeans and an immaculate pair of DC trainers with a graffiti design that isn’t really graffiti. There’s shadows in the corners. Big deep shadows that could swallow you whole. It wouldn’t do to be lost in those shadows.

Vincent, my friend, is stood by my locker wearing what he normally wears, a thick woollen hoody – red today – and baggy jeans. His shoes are DC’s too.

“I’ve got double geometry, how about you?” Vincent never uses punctuation.

I unlock my locker – what do you call an unlocked locker? It’s not like it’s a locker anymore, an unlocker or something – and start filling my pockets. I fill them with everything on the right-hand side of the bottom shelf of my unlocker. Today there’s a paperclip precisely in the middle of being right or left.

“Oh, uhm. I’ve got biology and woodwork and counselling at twelve:fifteen.”

I take out a small pair of plyers with blue rubber handle covers that isn’t really a pair as it’s just one item and really should be called a plyer and snap the paper clip in half and put the right piece into my pocket. The plyer also goes in my pocket.

“You shouldn’t go to counselling, that woman doesn’t know what she’s talking about. I heard she was fired from her last job for molesting a client.” I always add punctuation when Vincent speaks in my head.

I don’t reply as the bell rings and Vincent is already too far gone to hear. I lock my unlocker and it becomes a locker once more.

My councillor is called Agnes Brüer and she thinks a lot of herself. She likes to think she’s calm and stoical but she’s not. She hasn’t shaved her legs today.

“I like your skirt Ms. Brüer,” I mumble as I sit myself in the uncomfortable chair that looks comfortable at first.

“It’s Miss Brüer, not Ms. I’m not an old maid you know!”

I say nothing.

“What do you think about the car-crash at the weekend?”

Ms. Brüer always asks two questions at once in such a way that you can’t answer one without the other going forgotten. It’s like asking if you like toast and then immediately asking if you like jam. You could say ‘no’ to liking toast and because you said no to toast now no one will give you jam.

“I was there. Vincent and I saw it happen.”

Ms Brüer smiles an obviously fake forced smile making her wrinkles deepen further and her nostrils flare even larger than they already are. She has lipstick on her teeth.

“There’s that phrase again: Vincent and I.” Only she doesn’t use a colon when she says it. “Did Vincent do anything when it crashed?”

“He laughed and said that the driver had it coming to him. He knew him.”

“In what way?” Ms. Brüer says, no longer smiling.

“The driver used to sell drugs in his middle school playground. Vincent says he was always jipping him.”

“Jipping him?” asks Ms. Brüer, who is blatantly not ‘down with it’ but is more likely high up with a specific object.

“Yep. He tried to sell Vincent Viagra instead of ketamins once. Dumb shit.”

Ms. Brüer writes a lot of notes today.

Three weeks go by since that day. I am in a field with Vincent making crop circles because the farmer’s a trekky. When he sees them he’ll go ape about proving there’s life in other worlds.

“So what did that up-herself councillor say about you being beaten as a kid?” We are stomping around, I clockwise and he in widdershins trying to compress the grass tightly underfoot.

“That I was being stupid and was overreacting. Still checked though, social service was round on Tuesday. They think I’m a compulsive liar.”

“They’ve got no idea about the real you, have they?”

I’m inclined to agree.

“There’s something wrong with me though. The way I can see punctuation, it’s almost as if I’m synaesphrenic.”

“Synaesthetic; synaesphrenic makes you sound fucked up. It’s synaesthesia that means you can taste colours and see punctuation.”

The farmer comes running at us before long with what from this distance could be a shotgun, cursing teenagers everywhere.

We turn our backs to him, laughing all the way back into what passes as a village centre in these parts. Vincent buys a coke and we sit in the train station. It only has two platforms, one each for north and southbound trains.

“Why’d you have to go and blow it?”

“What do you mean you?”

Vincent looks rather pissed off. He kicks the ground idly with his foot, finishes his coke can and chucks it at a young woman stood crying nearby.

“You’re always playing it cool when you’re shit scared underneath. I can see it, crawling; underskin you’re scared shitless and quaking in your boots. I’m sick of you, you contemptuous prick.”

“I’m not contem-“

“Oh but you are. The world doesn’t understand you, poor little schizophrenic with worried parents and a home in the suburbs. Big fucking deal!”

I don’t respond – can’t respond – as a girl chucks herself infront of the oncoming train. It rushes past, barely braking, blood drops and digits flying as the carriages pass one after the other and I have blood all over my face, some in my eye. I guess she’s not getting on the train then.

“Look, I’m sorry. Just get on the train, I have a surprise.”

And then we were accessories to suicide.

We spent the evening in hardware stores and garages collecting paints and sticking tape. I kept seeing her emerging from the shadows as if she was lost or something. Maybe she had nowhere to go. I found her coat on a fencepost during the walk upto Arkham. It’s a depressing place, the local nuthouse, all drab beige walls and comatose nurses. Moonbeams coming through the windows in big chequerboard shafts, illuminating the blandest, least looked at wall.

There’s paint on my hands but that’s nothing compared to Vincent, daubed in yellow upto the elbow. My favourite colour is green but nobody seems to find this interesting. I wonder if Vincent would laugh if I told him. When I ordered the paint pots I put the green first, even though going via the visible spectrum it should have been fourth.

It takes us well into the night to finish the mural, a wall splashed with reds and golds, documenting the horrid malpractice of this wretched place. Women pinned down screaming, syringes penetrating their retinas, starving patients with medication inches away from their clawing grasp. Others lobotomised or ECT treated, all the while the fires of hell lapping at their feet.

I leave Vincent to add the final few highlights as I clear the paint tins away. No doubt we’ll make explosives and send then off in fashion sometime next week.

“I’m not going to ask you again, what were you doing at Outlook Asylum last night?” Ms. Brüer is blue in the face, her flabby jowl moving rapturously as she hounds me.

“There is CCTV footage young man. You have red paint on your hands and the security guard heard you talking.”

I sit numbly. What the fuck?

“I was at the station too when the girl killed herself. Surely as my councillor you should be more concerned of that.” I say cataconically.

“What girl?”

“You know… the suicide at the train station, it was in all the papers this morning. Vincent had chucked a can at her just a couple of minutes before she killed herself.”

“Oh and I suppose Vincent was at Outlook Asylum too?”

“And what if he was?” folded arms.

“Vincent does not exist! There is no record of a Vincent on the school database, no Vincent Myers recorded at county hall and no Vincent Your Best Friend at Outlook! He’s a hallucination – just like the girl at the station.”

Ms Brüer actually looks shocked at herself; her skin less purple and more pallid, her eyes slightly teary.

“You’re a schizophrenic and I’ve made an appointment for you to see Dr.Frunter at Outlook. Your parents have been informed.”

I’ve been admitted. I have my own room and my shoelaces have been taken from me incase I try to hang myself. The fact that I’m 16 and remain without bruises on my trachea seems to be of no note. I’m marched past the mural, almost forgotten about in my change of residence, many eyes on it now that they’re awake. Two minutes before the drugs round begins. There’s a clarity in the crack-ups that I’ve never seen before within the dark walls of Arkham. A man paints over it but the flames are still visible through the whitewash.

They put me on drugs. At first they thought Navane would help but I started having seizures and they start me on clozapine today.

Clozapine (sold as ‘klozapol’ in Poland) is an antipsychotic. It was first introduced to Europe in 1971 but the manufacturer withdrew it four years later as it was shown to cause agranulocytosis (a type of leukopenia) and patients died. It tackles both positive and negative symptoms of the schizophrenia, whatever that means, and has no dyscognitive effects.

They’re on the look out for many side-effects, especially seizures after the Navane, and I have to have blood tests each week to check my white blood cell count.

I find a medical journal on my unalphabetised shelf next to the children’s stories and pulp fiction. Who reads this crap? After alphabetising them I sit down and look at the symptoms I’m supposedly exhibiting. Amongst them are hallucinations and voices in my head. Like hell is the government/communists/media putting thoughts in my head! Vincent’s the only one that can convince me to do anything I don’t want to do.

He visits today – not that they wanted him to but they couldn’t keep him away. When he was questioned about the mural he just said that I’d done it and he was at his girlfriend’s all night.

“Psh, what girlfriend? Who in their right mind would want anything to do with you?”

“Kristie Patterson wants something to do with me. Now that you’ve proven off your rocker she doesn’t want you. Nobody thinks you’re gonna get out of here.”

The nurse comes over, not making eye contact with him once whilst ushering him out. His profanity lingers in the ward for a long time afterwards.

He visits less and less the longer I’m in here, my dosage being ever pumped up, becoming more aggressive each time he visits.

“They say you’re a hallucination. They say that you’re in my head and it’s all to do with the goo in my mesolimbic pathway. Did you know paedophiles have less white matter than normal people? Or was it grey – I can’t remember. There’s one next door to me. They’re trying to implant a dead person’s matter into his head to get rid of the fetish.” I’m not bothered by Paul, infact he’s a nice man. Vincent won’t like me talking to him, I can tell, but the doctors are encouraging me to make friends.

They moved Paul to another ward where I can’t talk to him.

My meds are yellow, two yellow capsules and a pink sedative. It makes me feel lobotomised but mum smiles each time I down one – even though I might OD on them. I’ve been selling them at school – making enough profit in four months to afford a basic drumkit. I’m still lonely.

I stopped taking my meds about a month ago so that I could see Vincent. He wouldn’t talk, came flying at me in a blind rage and almost cut my lip off with his switchblade. I was readmitted but by saying I’d done it myself I got my sedative dosage raised. I miss him. I have to be a good little sane boy and Ms Brüer says I’m acting normal.

SANITY SUCKS.

mwuhahah

Thu, 19 Feb 2009 00:57:30 GMT

I've just had the best sesh EVER.
So productive.
Got two drafts of my new coursework done and a rehash of my first piece.
AND wrote a commentary.

RJ
xx

Thu, 29 Jan 2009 22:03:53 GMT

The Rules:

Open iTunes/iPod or Windows Media Player to answer the following.
Go to your library.
Answer, no matter how embarrassing it is.

How many songs: 1450

Sort by song title:
First Song: - snow patrol
Last Song: would you marry me?, do as infinity

Sort by album:
First Song: every man has a molly, say anything
Last Song: the world, nightmare

Top Five Most Played Songs:
1. gold lion, the yeah yeah yeahs
2. ichirin no hana, high and mighty color
3. ggoma i cry, younha
4. shiki no uta, minmi
5. ice cream, new young pony club

First song that comes up on Shuffle:
to have or to be, museum

"sex", how many songs come up? : 6
"death", how many songs come up? : 12
"love", how many songs come up? : 29
"you", how many songs come up? : 97

psychos

Tue, 06 Jan 2009 20:18:23 GMT

Holly and I were talking today.
Humans ARE strange.


We were talking about how we are weakened by our need to please others and how those we dub insane or psychotic are actually showing higher thought processes than the masses.
We lock up the smartest survivalistic of us because they commit murder or have a hazardous way of thinking. Which I suppose is just us realising how threatening these high thinking people are to us with less developed thought processes.
But you can get programs now that try and train you to use more of your brain. Do you think games such as 'Brain Training' and 'Big Brain Academy' could create more ''mentally unstable'' individuals?
                    Or perhaps ''mentally unstable'' masses.

So I put a question to you:
                    Why do we call our weakness 'being human'?


    RJ

u-huh.. that's what i said

Mon, 29 Dec 2008 11:51:34 GMT

Have you ever jut stopped in the midst of doing something and thought: "God, humans are strange"?

I do it quite frequently but it astounds me every time that I can think this and then just carry on, five minutes later it all lying forgotten under the heady scents of coffee and washing detergent.
I did it again today. I was washing my face and I just stopped and stared at the sink. somebody made that. I think we must be one of the few, if not only, species to care about how something looks rather than it's functionability.
But i think there's more to it than that. We don't always care about that either, we could end up paying far more than anything is 'worth' just because it looks good, thus losing it's functionability all together. We are idiots. Smart idiots, but idiots all the more for it.

How exactly do we decide what something is 'worth' anyway? other species trade in resources, they trade food for shelter and it works. We trade little slips of paper. Why did anyone invent the little slips of paper? A good time ago there was no need for paper. Would such high earning capitalism exist if we weren't trading paper?
I'm not going against the capitalists - far from it. I just find it amazing how we've got such concepts. the communists and fascists are at constant war, or so it would seem but their ideals are more or less the same. They want an equal race, only where the comunists try to spread what we've got, the fascists use selection to see who gets it.

Seriously, just stop and look at the computer. Somebody created this. Somebody created the need for this.

x-mas : face value

Thu, 25 Dec 2008 19:22:23 GMT

SQUEEEEEEE!!!! Sooooo proud of my VIVIAN WESTWOOD necklace n_n mwuhahahaha. Thank you Aunty Pam :)
- NO she didn't pay full for it. anywhere near full.

Chocolates, pants, socks, usual shizz... thanks a bunch
flavoured coffees i haven't figured out the strength of yet, very pleased to recieve
books (dickens and victorian horror)
the libertine from my mum (:p) bless her, she doesn't know how debauched it is
a snowglobe
y otras

_____________________

Since that's the materialistic out of the way, MERRY CHRISTMAS.
And if you're not christian (who is nowadays?) have a smashing December 25th.

my Gran now knows about my girlfriend.
Took it waaay better than I expected. took it. in general. 'slong as your happy'
my girlfriend knows about my knickers :P
my friend knows something otherwise unsettling
my youth theatre know how much of a lightweight i am
my aunt is coming over tomorrow T_T

night peeps,
RJ

Deciembre

Thu, 18 Dec 2008 19:01:20 GMT

Hey!
So today was christmas day in the sixth form.

Presents given:
Rachael -Bilbo le Hobbit, necklace
Kristie - NBC bag
Alex+Em - Hogwarts mugs
Rosy - smellies

Presents recieved:
Rachael - Forbidden forest shirt, necklace, bits n bobs
Kristie - necklace n maltesers
Alex - pajamas nd a lollipop :p
Emma - bath/shower shizznae, smells gorgeous
Rosy - Bubble bath (which is pretty bad as i want to be grateful but i don't have a bath :/)

And there's news.
News I'm not sure I want to share, but may aswell.

1st) our teacher is leaving. and i don't use 'our' loosely - she is OURS. love her ot bits we do, but she's not happy so she's movnig on. says she'll miss us horribly.
- Now, I don't know this, but my ex-teacher is taking over for her so she can leave earlier. which is a yay as she's not new and patronising and she's nice in her own way.

2nd) i'm kind of not-but-am in a relationship. She makes me smile so much. no more on this.

- -

Queasy too. I'm becoming queasy half way through meals/drinks. and it's PISSING ME OFF. it's not like I'm pregnant or ill, just, queasy. WTF???

love, kisses and chocolate bunnies,
RJ

Sat, 13 Dec 2008 20:28:37 GMT

1. Those of you who use iTunes, post the first line of each song on your 25 Most Played list, no matter how embarrassing
1.5 Those of you who don't, sort your Media Player library by Play Count and use the top 25 of those. Or do whatever the equivalent is in the program you use
2. Let your friends guess all your "favourite" songs and artists!
3. Strike through and credit the winner as each song is guessed.

I'm ignoring foreign songs to give you a chance n_n
Should be able to get a few ~x

1. *title* gonna tell me where the light is

2. I can give you what you want, i can make your heartbeat short

3. I am heaven's scent, don't you dare forget

4. How come we love to hurt each other so?

5. She's the flutter in my heart, she's the spring in my step

6. When I was a child, running in the night I was afraid of what might be

7. Get straight, wait here while I try and find the EXIT sign

8. I am thinking its a sign that the freckles in our eyes are mirror images and when we kiss they are perfectly aligned.

9. This is where I'll be, so heavenly so come and dance with me *title* Rae

10. *title* and i won't know, but you weren't happy the day i watched you go

11. Wake up, think fast, 3 weeks have passed, we are changing.

12. cast off the crutch that kills the pain, the *title* waving never meant the same

13. When there's trouble you know who to call *title* from their tower they can see it all.

14. ~~The IV and your hospital bed, this was no accident, this was a therapeutic chain of events~~ Rae

15. You're the right stuff, I've got my head straight, going uptown

16. You and I in a little toy shop, buy a bag of balloons with the money we've got

17. My eyes can't believe what they have seen, in the corner of your room you stockpiled millions of my memories

18. *title* but I'm still restless, an hour or so till last call i guess

19. I'm not alone cos the TV's on yeah, I'm not crazy cos i take the right pills, everyday

20. Well you're just across the street, lokos a mile to my feet, i wanna go to youuuu

21. Save yourself, cos the only thing that matters is that you get away, from the pain and the thought of losing your mind

22. the music blared with a calming frequency, the speakers gently seeped the sounds of ambient keyboards and light percussion

23. love of mine, someday you will die, but i'll be close behind to follow you into the dark

24. ~~Take your white finger, slide the nail under, the top and bottom buttons of my blazer~~ Rae

25. SHOT! who shot the bullet that killed the air tonight?

running 5000 miles and running out of breath

Wed, 03 Dec 2008 22:00:33 GMT

Put your MP3 player on shuffle, and write down the first line of the first twenty songs. Post the poem that results. The first line of the twenty-first is the title.

running 5000 miles and running out of breath

relax, don't do it
steal a little bit of your tears
i fell in love and needed a road map to find out where you lived
conversations that went on terrible paths
don't give me grace and dancing feet
once! count and move on
hold them down, our bleeding suspects
you can't touch this.
these walls are paper thin and everyone hears every little sound
why you must be a girl with shoes like that

yes i surely miss the early days
hello, i waited here for you everlong
is there enough? is there enough?
my eyes can't believe what they have seen
at 8 o clock we said goodbye
under blue moon i saw you
finished with my woman because she couldn't help me with my life
far away, so far away
don't act surprised
i looked up at the night sky and saw a comet

yet another meme

Mon, 24 Nov 2008 22:33:16 GMT

ooh look, another meme!

1. ONE OF YOUR SCARS: HOW DID YOU GET IT?
IFor the longest time I had a scar on my arm from attempting to shave my arms just as I started shaving. It would not stop bleeding and years later people thought it was the mark of shallow self harm.

2. WHAT IS ON THE WALLS IN YOUR ROOM?
I only have two posters, a bleach one and a banksy one. I have 3 bookshelves, a calendar, mirror and notice board.

3. DO YOU SNORE, GRIND YOUR TEETH, OR TALK IN YOUR SLEEP?
Kagairimasen (sp)

4. WHAT TYPE OF MUSIC DO YOU LISTEN TO?
almost anything, dance, drum n bass, techno, rock, indy, american indy, some folk, pop, punk, ska, two-tone

5. DO YOU KNOW WHAT TIME YOU WERE BORN?
no

6. WHAT DO YOU WANT MORE THAN ANYTHING RIGHT NOW?
to fit into size 10 jeans... or you know. a bit of conversation

7. WHAT DO YOU MISS?
simple thought

8. WHAT IS YOUR MOST PRIZED POSSESSION(S)?
not so sure, i'm only a general materialist, maybe a book?

9. HOW TALL ARE YOU?
5"7

10. DO YOU GET CLAUSTROPHOBIC?
Only very rarely.

11. DO YOU GET SCARED IN THE DARK?
Only really in my bedroom and that corner in my hallway where i sowre i saw 'scream' once.

12. THE LAST PERSON TO MAKE YOU CRY?
.myself

13. WHAT ARE YOUR INITIALS?
TMB

14. LIKE MUSIC?
yes, yes i do. but i have no rhythm so stand no chance of learning an instrumnt

15. MOST LISTENED TO BAND?
possibly interpol or modest mouse - check my last.fm

16. COFFEE OR ENERGY DRINK?
depends if I'm feeling hot or cold

17. FAVOURITE PIZZA TOPPING?
ham and mushroom OR chicken kiev

18. IF YOU COULD EAT ANYTHING RIGHT NOW, WHAT WOULD IT BE?
lindt balls

19. ??
!!

20. HAVE YOU EVER EATEN A GOLDFISH?
Erm, no

21. WHAT WAS THE FIRST MEANINGFUL GIFT YOU'VE EVER RECEIVED?
first i remember would be Pony. my imaginatively named pony toy.

22. DO YOU LIKE ANYBODY?
If you mean it in a particular way then yes and RS knows of it, if tother then yes but it depends on my mood

23. ARE YOU DOUBLE JOINTED?
No

24. FAVOURITE CLOTHING BRAND?
LOL primark

26. DO YOU HAVE A PET?
Un Perro se llama Poppy

27. WHAT KIND IS IT?
see above

28. WOULD YOU FALL IN LOVE KNOWING THAT THE PERSON IS LEAVING?
I wouldn't fall in love, I'd fall in lust

29. WHAT IS THE BEST WAY TO TELL SOMEONE HOW MUCH THEY MEAN TO YOU:
Toni + This Sort Of Thing = Epic fail

30. SAY A NUMBER FROM ONE TO A HUNDRED:
42

31. BLONDS OR BRUNETTES?
girlwise? brown or ginge i suppose
boywise? stick dark

32. WHAT IS THE ONE NUMBER YOU CALL MOST OFTEN?
gran?

33. WHAT ANNOYS YOU MOST?
people getting things wrong which are the simplest things EVER to grasp.

34. HAVE YOU BEEN OUT OF THE USA?
I am indeed English and have only graced American soil with my precious tootsies thrice - in four places (3 states)

35. YOUR WEAKNESSES?
my knees, sides, neck, chin ¬_¬
I'm only telling you physicals on the hope that you'll leave my psychological

36. MET ANYONE FAMOUS?
erm no

37. FIRST JOB?
Sigo trabajando a una panadería

38. EVER DONE A PRANK CALL?
yes

41. WHAT WERE YOU DOING BEFORE YOU FILLED THIS OUT?
your mam

40. HAVE YOU EVER HAD SURGERY?
no

42. WHAT DO YOU GET COMPLIMENTED ABOUT MOST?
my hair
- in it's few various guises

43. HAVE YOU EVER HAD BRACES?
no

44. WHAT DO YOU WANT FOR YOUR BIRTHDAY?
a life

45. HOW MANY KIDS DO YOU WANT?
1 in my 30's

46. WERE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE?
no.

47. DO YOU WISH ON STARS?
nu-uh

49. WHAT KIND OF SHAMPOO DO YOU USE?
alberto balsam strawberries and cream :)

50. DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING?
my neater writing - not my notes

51. WHAT IS YOUR FAVOURITE LUNCH MEAT?
chicken?

52. ANY BAD HABITS?
skin-around-the-nail biting, contradicting people, being smarmy

53. WHAT CD ARE YOU MOST EMBARRASSED TO HAVE ON YOUR SHELF?
trivium

54. IF YOU WERE ANOTHER PERSON, WOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH YOU?
possibly

56. DO LOOKS MATTER?
depends on what for and always to some degree, whether it be geek or god

57. HOW DO YOU RELEASE ANGER?
fuming

58. WHERE IS YOUR SECOND HOME?
the science lab used to be

59. WHAT HAPPENED TO QUESTION 59?
it had sex with a pigeon

60. WHAT WAS YOUR FAVOURITE TOY AS A CHILD?
pony

61. HOW MANY NUMBERS ARE IN YOUR CELL PHONE?
mebbe 10?

62. WERE YOU A FAN OF BARNEY AS A LITTLE KID?
Nnot a big one.

63. DO YOU USE SARCASM?
all the time - fixation at the oral stage ;)

64. MASHED POTATOES OR MACARONI AND CHEESE?
Potatoes

65. WHAT DO YOU LOOK FOR IN A GUY/GIRL?
what comes a-knocking. charisma? bit of geekiness? essential to be fucked up.

66. WHAT ARE YOUR NICKNAMES?
Tonks- for my clumsy

67. WHAT'S YOUR FAVOURITE BAND/SINGER?
mebbe Anberlin at the moment

68. WHAT ARE YOUR FAVOURITE TV SHOWS?
pushing daisies, heroes, torchwood

69. pshsss
you spelt that wrong.

70. WHAT'S YOUR FAVOURITE ICE CREAM FLAVOUR?
caramel choo choo

71. DO YOU HAVE ALL YOUR FINGERS AND TOES?
yes

72. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU WORKED OUT?
O_O

73. PLANS FOR TONIGHT?
mebbe attempt my psychology

74. WHAT'S THE FASTEST YOU HAVE GONE IN A CAR?
130?

75. DO YOU WANT EVERYONE TO ANSWER THESE QUESTIONS?
I no. i don't want them to read either, if they copy and paste however, they'll read my answers then

76. WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO?
pelle carlberg - middleclass kid

77. LAST THING YOU DRANK?
Coffee

78. LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE?
telemarketer

79. THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE IN THE OPPOSITE/SAME SEX?
face?

80. FAVOURITE THOUGHT PROVOKING SONG?
oh hush child

81. FAVOURITE THING TO HATE?
myself - i'm, an emo at heart

82. FAVOURITE MONTH OF THE YEAR?
October?

83. ZODIAC SIGN?
Gemini

85. WHAT IS YOUR HAIR COLOUR?
faded out almost burgundy - was purple

86. EYE COLOUR?
Blue

87. SHOE SIZE
5 1`/2

88. FAVOURITE FAST FOOD PLACE?
subway or kfc

89. FAVOURITE RESTAURANT?
no sé

90. DO YOU LIKE SUSHI?
not

91. LAST THING YOU WATCHED?
torchwood

92. FAVOURITE DAY OF THE YEAR?
im not sure

93. PLAY ANY MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS?
HA

94. REPUBLICAN OR DEMOCRAT?
I'm english, love

95. KISSES OR HUGS?
no-tongue kisses or hugs really, i suppose hugs

96. RELATIONSHIPS OR ONE NIGHT STANDS?
either would be good

97. WHAT WAS THE LAST THING YOU BOUGHT?
a can of pop

98. WHAT KIND OF CAR DO YOU HAVE?
I'm 16.

99. WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING?
American Psycho - i hope to finish sometime this millenuium to move onto gaiman

100. DESCRIBE YOUR LOVE LIFE?
Closest I've got going on is a really small flirtationship. sounds strangely enough like the rest of my life's love life.

fluorescent adolecent

Sat, 22 Nov 2008 17:45:03 GMT

THIS IS HOW THE QUIZ WORKS: PUT SHUFFLE ON:

What do you like in a guy/girl?
seven days in the sun - feeder

How do you feel today?
ggoma i cry - younha

What is your lifes purpose?
road to nowhere - talking heads

What is your motto?
headstrong - anon

What do your friends think of you?
anthems for a seventeen year old girl - broken social scene

What do you think of your parents?
adam's song - blink182

What do you think about very often?
valerie - the zutons

What do you think of your bestfriend?
episode 18 - douglas adams

What do you think when you see the person you like?
sleepwalking - modest mouse

What is your life story?
juneau - funeral for a friend

What do you want to be when you grow up?
misery business - paramore

What will you dance to at your wedding?
magic's in the makeup - no doubt

What will they play at your funeral?
spongebob square pants - weird al yankovich

What is your hobby/interest?
like the angels - rise against

What is your biggest fear?
prime mover - zodiac mindwarp and the love reaction

What is your biggest secret?
the unshockable - maximo park

What do you think of your top myspace friend?
wonderful night - fatboy slim

What do you want to do in five minutes?
the bare necessities - bowling for soup

What will be the subject when you repost this?
fluorescent adolescent - arctic monkeys