Monday, 28 February 2011
February Film Round-up!
- Tangled
- The Dilemma
- Black Swan
- Paul
Umm.... Yeah. That was it.
Bad >.<
College stuff has kept me at home.
Friday, 18 February 2011
Breakfast
Instead of my usual 'stay in bed until my dad gets home' on a Friday, today I had breakfast. That in itself is a wonder since I never eat breakfast. This morning, though, I made porridge. Poured in the milk, popped it in the microwave and wandered back to the living room while I waited for that little digital beep that meant I could enjoy my oaty mush. On the way, I caught sight of my legs in the mirror. I wasn't wearing pyjama bottoms because I couldn't find them before I went to sleep and was too tired to hunt them out. I noticed the indents in the sides of my thighs, indicating that I have some kind of muscle. What can I say? It looked good. I smiled. I was quite proud of this. It was quite strange, especially since I'm rather self-concious of my legs. Pondering, I checked out my stomach. I could make out the lines of those muscles too. Just slightly, but they were there. I smiled again. My hair was a bed-mess but, goddammit, that worked too.
To summarise that, I thought I looked good, despite having just crawled out of bed. This is a milestone for me. I never think I look good. Was my mind still clouded by the haze of sleep, or was it because I wasn't wearing my glasses and I was ever so slightly out of focus?
Or was it that I actually feel good about myself?
I like to think that it's that last one and I'm regaining my self-confidence after I had it ripped away from me so brutally a couple of years ago.
And I think I know what, or, rather, who has sparked this.
But yes. I heard the beep and went to retrieve my porridge. I stirred in some brown sugar and a dollop of honey, watching it change into some sweet, warming tone of beige. I carried it back into the living room and smiled again at the mirror on the way past.
I think we're friends now.
To summarise that, I thought I looked good, despite having just crawled out of bed. This is a milestone for me. I never think I look good. Was my mind still clouded by the haze of sleep, or was it because I wasn't wearing my glasses and I was ever so slightly out of focus?
Or was it that I actually feel good about myself?
I like to think that it's that last one and I'm regaining my self-confidence after I had it ripped away from me so brutally a couple of years ago.
And I think I know what, or, rather, who has sparked this.
But yes. I heard the beep and went to retrieve my porridge. I stirred in some brown sugar and a dollop of honey, watching it change into some sweet, warming tone of beige. I carried it back into the living room and smiled again at the mirror on the way past.
I think we're friends now.
Sunday, 13 February 2011
Blood on my Sleeve
I've not blogged in a while. Egads!
The fact of the matter is that I've been far too busy doing nothing. Yupp. Nothing.
Yes, I've done the odd bit of college work and yes, I've done a bit of writing, but that's about it.
As a result, I've got nothing to blog about.
Well... I could post up what I've written.
Hmm...
Yes. I'll do that.
----------------------------------------
The fact of the matter is that I've been far too busy doing nothing. Yupp. Nothing.
Yes, I've done the odd bit of college work and yes, I've done a bit of writing, but that's about it.
As a result, I've got nothing to blog about.
Well... I could post up what I've written.
Hmm...
Yes. I'll do that.
----------------------------------------
It felt like such a cliché, and perhaps it was. The rain beat down on the freshly-made corpse, water running into the smashed skull of that dear friend of mine. It couldn't wash away the blood, there was far too much. It just made the puddle spread even faster. I crouched down and looked into his face. He was forever going to have that look of shock on his face, the shock of realising who I was and that I was going to kill him. Poor bastard. I almost pitied him. He had deserved it, of course, but nobody especially wants to have their head bashed in against an art installation. I looked closer. I thought I saw his brain, perhaps, almost pulsing out through the cracks, his hair matted with blood. It was almost beautiful. He had always boasted about his brilliant brain, and there it was, just sitting there, useless.
I could hear people walking down the street behind me, their drunken cackles filling the air. It must have been past three by now. I decided to make my way home before my creation was discovered as they would surely discover me along side it. I sighed. I would have liked to revel in my revenge a little longer, but it wasn't the most sensible option. I cleaned off my leather gloves in a nearby puddle, pulled them off and stuffed them into my pocket. I could finally take my mask off; it was getting quite stuffy in there. I untied it from the back of my head and fastened it to my shoulder. That's when I noticed that my victim's blood had splattered up my sleeve. Such a bother. I'd have to wash my coat before anybody noticed. Oh well. Time to go home.
As I walked, I pulled the playing cards out of my second pocket and thumbed through them. Six cards missing. I flicked through until I found the five of hearts, separated it from the others and held it in my mouth as I put the rest away again. I got to the top of Linthorpe Road pretty quickly and stopped to look at the bells. Hell's Bells, I had heard them get called, since they were arranged I such a way that resembled a pentagram. If I'd wanted to be a little more poetic, I should have lured him here. Such a shame that I hadn't thought of it sooner. I shrugged. Too late now. I took the five of hearts in both hands and tore it in half, right through the middle and threw the pieces to the ground. Nice and symbolic. The fifth person on my list of the ones who tore my heart apart. And mind, probably. Even at this point, I was pretty sure that I'd gone mad. Or maybe they'd all gone mad and I was the only sane one left. I preferred the second explanation, of course. My actions were perfectly justified. I wasn't a psycho-killer. I wasn't just murdering people at random. They were the ones who had performed the 'insane' actions.
But, yes. The torn five lay on the ground under Hell's Bells, the rain darkening the jagged edges. I smiled at this, wondering if people would connect the ruined five to the corpse by the Bottle of Notes. Probably not. Even if they did, they wouldn't know what it meant. There's no way they could connect this to me, either. Nobody had seen me. Nobody knew I was going out. I hadn't gotten a bus or a taxi. I hadn't done anything sick like take a photograph of my work, and the combination of the very fact that my coat was red and the pouring rain was soaking into it meant that the blood could barely be seen. Oh, I'm far too clever for this world. I knew I'd have to take all the playing cards down from my walls when I got home. If someone did try to connect me to all of this, they would be a dead giveaway.
Dead. Nice pun.
I turned and carried on walking down Linthorpe Road. Right down the centre of the street. The only cars out at this time of night would be the occasional taxi, and I could easily jump out of the way of one of those. A smile grew across my face as I remembered a song I had been listening to that evening. I began to hum the tune as I walked, then danced along. I twirled, the tails of my coat spinning out around me, and I began to sing.
“He had it coming,
he had it coming. He only had himself to blame...”
The drunkards were just ahead of me, and they gawped at my joy.
“If you'd have been there,
if you'd have seen it...”
There were screams from the direction I had came from. Someone must have spotted my handiwork. I smiled again. Perfect timing.
“...I betcha you would have done the same.”
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Please, please leave me some comments! I kind of want to finish writing this story of murder and revenge...
Thursday, 3 February 2011
January Film Round-up!
- The Season of the Witch
- The Green Hornet
- Morning Glory
- Hereafter
Only 4 films last month. I'm slacking!
Going to have to at least double that in February.
Saturday, 29 January 2011
A Tour...?
I have been spending a lot of time in my room lately, doing college work and also, since I have internet in here now, talking on msn and the like. I felt like blogging, and since my room is the thing I know best...
The large drawing in the centre is a close-up of a two shilling coin that I did when I was in the Fine Art rotation on my Foundation course. The black and white photos (apart from the one of me, of course), are ones that I have taken and developed myself.
The Emilie Autumn poster is one that I was given for free at my first gig after I'd spent over £100 on merch.
Nothing much to say about this bit. Books, CDs, Manga, DVDs, video games, random crap. And a traffic cone. And random things stuck in between.
The little table by the side of my desk. A slightly broken Singer sewing machine from 1938, a pile of books (Neverwhere, Coraline, WIcked and Whisper My Name), some lunch (with fork), an alarm clock that needs winding up, a pack of cards and other such things that are being untidy. In the background, those are my bass guitars, Jack (the black one) and Agent Moulder (the red one).
My desk is quite messy at the moment as I've been working. That sewing machine is Little Brother, dubbed 'my one true love' (is that still valid...?). Yes, that is a World of Warcraft poster on the wall. I got given it for free and want to replace it as soon as I've not played for a long time and I don't even have Lich King. In the middle is the program and various fliers from when I saw NoFitState Circus last year. Just to the left of that are various things from my Swedenventure, including boarding passes, the thing we had for airport internet and the pirate Jack of Spades.
I guess that's it, really. My bed is in the middle - Well, I say 'bed', I mean 'two mattresses on top of each other'. There's a big-ish television too, with freeview, an Xbox 360, Gamecube, PS2, PS1 and a DVD player.
The rest of it is just mess.
And there you go. That's my room.
Not that you were interested to begin with.
The large drawing in the centre is a close-up of a two shilling coin that I did when I was in the Fine Art rotation on my Foundation course. The black and white photos (apart from the one of me, of course), are ones that I have taken and developed myself.
The Emilie Autumn poster is one that I was given for free at my first gig after I'd spent over £100 on merch.
My desk is quite messy at the moment as I've been working. That sewing machine is Little Brother, dubbed 'my one true love' (is that still valid...?). Yes, that is a World of Warcraft poster on the wall. I got given it for free and want to replace it as soon as I've not played for a long time and I don't even have Lich King. In the middle is the program and various fliers from when I saw NoFitState Circus last year. Just to the left of that are various things from my Swedenventure, including boarding passes, the thing we had for airport internet and the pirate Jack of Spades.The rest of it is just mess.
And there you go. That's my room.
Not that you were interested to begin with.
Friday, 28 January 2011
Breathing
My imagination has taken charge. I've ripped apart an old jacket to make a pattern. My sewing machine is waiting for some red cotton thread.
I just need to buy my fabric.
I'll make a coat, a waistcoat, some matching accessories, whatever.
The Jester will live.
I just need to buy my fabric.
I'll make a coat, a waistcoat, some matching accessories, whatever.
The Jester will live.
Wednesday, 26 January 2011
My life as a Jester
For a long time, I have wanted to be a circus freak. A few years ago, I got an old broom handle and made myself a staff. I'd swing it around my room, occasionally accidentally hitting it off of things – my bookshelf, my desk, my light... My light didn't fare too well. I have broken three lightbulbs through my circus shenanigans, one of which was 'energy saving'. Please, someone explain to me how you can break a fluorescent lightbulb without actually breaking it. I mean, it's not like it has a filament...
But, yes. I want to be a circus freak.
 |
| My first jester outfit. Yes, the hat does have staples in it. |
In my possession, I now have two practice staffs, a fire staff, an LED staff, a hula hoop, some flowersticks, some poi, a diabolo, an acrylic contact ball, a few juggling balls and some stilts (though, my stilts are currently semi-MIA). I have practiced with static trapeze, acrobalance, plate spinning and various other things.
I don't think I'm particularly good with any of these things, in fact, I'm pretty bad with a few, such as poi and plate spinning. I'm getting better with flowersticks and I'm trying to learn how to juggle, so I'm getting there, I suppose.
I remember being at sixth form, sitting in the corner of the entrance hall where my little group of friends would hang out, sewing a tiny jester hat for a jester-stick I was making for a costume I would be wearing for my friend's birthday. I named him McCrikkit. I still have him. He's smiling at me from across my room as I type. That was the first time I actively tried to be a Jester. I loved the thought of being able to entertain the ignorant masses with my amazing jestery skills. Unfortunately, I was lacking in the aforementioned skills. All I could do was swing that broom handle around my bedroom.
Now, I am lucky enough to be enrolled in a circus skills course that is held in the next town over. Imagine my glee when my friend told me about it. Yes, he originally said that someone hadn't wanted me to go, so I hadn't gone right away. When I eventually did start going, it turned out that the person who apparently hadn't wanted me to be there had said nothing of the sort. This 'friend' of mine who had told me about the course hadn't ever wanted to do that kind of thing before I had mentioned it to me. He had tried to steal my dream.
On Monday evening, I climbed up onto the trapeze, intending to practice the few moves I know since I hadn't been up there since the end of November. However, I just sat, swung my legs and thought about my half-formed plans for the future, my plans of circus-gypsying across Europe with my love. As I sat, I saw myself juggling on a street corner in a far-off city, a bag of flowersticks, poi, balls and various other things by my side, then turning my head and smiling to my companion. She smiles back, and I know that I am the happiest that I have ever been. I throw the balls into the air and catch them all in the pockets of my self-made coat. A few onlookers clap and throw coins. My companion reaches her hand towards me. I take it in my own and she pulls me into an embrace. I am free.
I got jolted back to reality after there was a cheer from the other side of the hall. The boys had managed to pull off a new acrobalance pose. With a grin, I dropped back down below the bar and swung around into Bird's Nest before dropping back down onto the mat.
Yesterday, I found myself in a new circus shop that has opened in my town. I'd popped in to have a look after I'd bought some of the fabric I needed for my costume project at college while waiting for the next train into Hartlepool. After leaving the shop with a red and black diabolo, it occurred to me that there was little reason for me to go into college after all, since my model would not be there for me to do a fitting. I wandered into HMV, hunting out some CDs and a Skins boxset, but was drawn back into the circus shop. I spent at least an hour and a half in there as the owner taught me how to juggle. One step closer to my little daydream. When I finally left the shop, I had given the owner my contact details in case he needed any help in the future when the shop got up and running properly.
Imagine that. Me, a wannabe circus freak working in a circus shop.
Just a wannabe. I'm not a circus freak yet, but I'm on my way.
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