Month: December 2016

It’s too late for this stuff.

It’s currently 23:25, I’ve just eaten a cheese and mustard sandwich and I’ve got a cup of green tea so strong it could most likely corrode metal and forge gold rings imbued with the detoxing powers of all the tea you can get for £3.89. I really don’t want to drink this. It’s just sitting there with it’s putrid green, leafy eyes, begging to venture down my throat and cleanse me with it’s magical power, which I am very disrespectfully, giving a miss.

By my own morals and best attempt at self caring – I should not be this awake this late. I just want to make more music and draw but my bed is yearning for me, like the warm comforting hand of sleep rocking me in a relaxing 6/8 rhythm.

I think my ADHD is getting the better of me, today I’ve gone from making metal on one software  to House in the other, I’ve removed the NY from a snapback for being too mainstream, gone to buy Monster, played on my xbox for like 20 minutes and watched Peep Show. Admittedly this information is all as you say, bollocks, but I felt like posting something, so Merry Early Christmas.

~James x

Advertisements

Useless monologue.

I think my stress levels are going down, possibly. But at the same time I think I’m one small crisis away from becoming a Hollywood-style angry teen who deals with his problems by using the art of interpretative dance.

Someone should definitely turn this into a movie, or perhaps a book. I could have Elijah Wood play me and have Nicolas Cage as the main antagonist. Michael Bae could produce it too, maybe.
Now that I think about it… a book would be better.

My unintelligent friend Corran put this idea into my head in one of his headstrong attempts at being wise and moderately funny. But lately it has become a rather touching subject over the dinner table. Accompanied by my parents forever disappointed faces glaring at me like those floodlights you have on football pitches. I don’t even see why, it’s not as though people even play football on those bloody things in the first place. It’s just full of drug addicted hooligans and sweet wrappers. Apart from all of this, it seems that I’ve been making more music as of lately, so that’s pretty nice. I’m currently working on my second instalment of my cliché, generic pop punk project thing. I could be the Rick Astley of punk.

I’m not sure if that’s a good thing…

Even so, good ole Dick Spatsley was very successful and his new album wasn’t terrible, so I guess those are two good things about him. I’m debating calling this guy I don’t like at college Rick Astley, because that dude is never gonna give up making my life a misery.

Let’s call this guy Gerald.

Gerald enjoys making my life hell by constantly making comments about me to people on my course with no good reason, despite the fact I have genuinely disturbing things I’ve been told about him, those are my Nuclear Launch Codes so to speak, I heard a particularly Juicy rumour about him, another guy and feet. I think that’s all I can stomach of that conversation for now.

I guess the moral of the story is always “If you’re not dead there’s no point questioning the world around you because there will always be someone who’ll want to make your life a living hell”.