...and some seriously loud music in my headphones. I actually detest living in this house.
I can deal with the conflicts between myself and those around me. I can deal with how small this place is. I can just about deal with the severe lack of anything remotely resembling a garden. All that will stand with me as long as it needs to. What get me are the residents of Fratton.
My neighbours, for example, have several, very loud dogs. I hate dogs as it is, but these foul creatures will wail and howl at any human or movement within a 1 mile proximity of their house, and they will keep going until either the termagant of a mother screams at them like a banshee or they receive the necessary blood sacrifice from whatever poor, unfortunate soul happens to be anywhere near them at that precise moment.
The family are loud, associate with other loud people and make no bones about it - They bitch and whine at each other until the sun sets, by which time they have all presumably returned to their respective bomb shelters and injected more adrenaline into their veins so that, when the morning creeps round, they have absolutely no problem leaping from the sheets to fire off more expletives at one and other, an event which is louder even than the disgracefully bad choice of music shamelessly blasted through the speakers of the stereo of the teenage daughter on the other side of my wall.
I don't know, perhaps i'm having a bad evening? Well, i most certainly am having a bad evening, lets not beat about the bush... perhaps i'm over exaggerating? Maybe they're all just tormented philosophers, desperately trying to seek new plains of understanding by battling out every day over questions above and beyond my own thought process...
No. That simply doesn't work. Nietzsche never bellowed "Gimme your eye-liner or I'll smash your face in" from the pages of Thus Spake Zaratrustra...
'tonm. xx
Book of the Moment: Still Stephen Fry's autobiography - See yesterday's entry.
Song of the Moment: "Butterfly Caught" by Massive Attack
Showing posts with label portsmouth. Show all posts
Showing posts with label portsmouth. Show all posts
Friday, 2 May 2008
Wednesday, 5 December 2007
There's something so attractive about newspapers...
Okay, so help me with this one -
I'm enjoying another day outside of my house (an event which has gradually taken on a certain exclusivity since the beginning of term), wandering aimlessly in and out of market stalls, weaving my way past clipboard androids and the man trying to sell me an issue of the same magazine I bought off him 2 days ago. I occasionally enter the polished walls of an actual shop, in an attempt to stop myself from charging directly from one end of Commercial road to the other and then back again.
All the time, my eyes are wandering, shopping in their own right, examining each feature of every product. I know full well that my money is sparse yet my want for something to put in my bag to take home for my own is great. I won't steal - That's just stupid. It dirties the item, makes it worthless. So, my only real option is to remain vigilant, forever seeking that magical word:
"FREE"
Oh, bliss! A possession free of charge! The sweetest of all items in the city are those which don't even require me to brush my fingertips over the leather of my wallet. They are rare, however. I mean, fliers are numerous, but they have no substance. No, the real gems, the faithful constants, are underground newspapers.
Today's particular find is a monthly publication with the charming name, "The Stool Pigeon" - It's essentially an indie music review paper, up to date with developments in the silent world of the unsigned and out-of-chart performers of this world. I can't find any great flaws in it - Really communicative, relevant articles by more than capable writers with a real passion for what they love. It does get me thinking though...
Could I start one? You know, an underground publication?
I wouldn't want it to be anything major - I'm not looking to change the face of youth politics or "shout out" against the false social trends which fluctuate within our society of influential, weak-minded persons. I'm not well informed enough to be a source of new music knowledge either, regardless of how much I'd like to be. I sometimes think I could just write for people to enjoy. Nothing daring or really thought provoking - Just something to squeeze a tiny grin out of the stony faced student, whose many nights of excess have led to 5 hour days and a less-than-peachy perspective on things around them.
That's what I see these papers as - Little beams of light. Tiny novels for me to regard, take in and pass on; passages of words which stimulate my senses just long enough to tick the "Resolve Boredom" box in the deep recesses of my mind.
Maybe I'll have a crack at it - Last time I checked there were no laws against them, so why not use some of the free speech I seems to be quite happily ignoring?
'tonm.
xxx
Book of the Moment: I finished "Making History" by Stephen Fry. Give it a read. Stunner.
Song of the Moment: "Fox Fire Kilnamona" by Dean Magraw
I'm enjoying another day outside of my house (an event which has gradually taken on a certain exclusivity since the beginning of term), wandering aimlessly in and out of market stalls, weaving my way past clipboard androids and the man trying to sell me an issue of the same magazine I bought off him 2 days ago. I occasionally enter the polished walls of an actual shop, in an attempt to stop myself from charging directly from one end of Commercial road to the other and then back again.
All the time, my eyes are wandering, shopping in their own right, examining each feature of every product. I know full well that my money is sparse yet my want for something to put in my bag to take home for my own is great. I won't steal - That's just stupid. It dirties the item, makes it worthless. So, my only real option is to remain vigilant, forever seeking that magical word:
"FREE"
Oh, bliss! A possession free of charge! The sweetest of all items in the city are those which don't even require me to brush my fingertips over the leather of my wallet. They are rare, however. I mean, fliers are numerous, but they have no substance. No, the real gems, the faithful constants, are underground newspapers.
Today's particular find is a monthly publication with the charming name, "The Stool Pigeon" - It's essentially an indie music review paper, up to date with developments in the silent world of the unsigned and out-of-chart performers of this world. I can't find any great flaws in it - Really communicative, relevant articles by more than capable writers with a real passion for what they love. It does get me thinking though...
Could I start one? You know, an underground publication?
I wouldn't want it to be anything major - I'm not looking to change the face of youth politics or "shout out" against the false social trends which fluctuate within our society of influential, weak-minded persons. I'm not well informed enough to be a source of new music knowledge either, regardless of how much I'd like to be. I sometimes think I could just write for people to enjoy. Nothing daring or really thought provoking - Just something to squeeze a tiny grin out of the stony faced student, whose many nights of excess have led to 5 hour days and a less-than-peachy perspective on things around them.
That's what I see these papers as - Little beams of light. Tiny novels for me to regard, take in and pass on; passages of words which stimulate my senses just long enough to tick the "Resolve Boredom" box in the deep recesses of my mind.
Maybe I'll have a crack at it - Last time I checked there were no laws against them, so why not use some of the free speech I seems to be quite happily ignoring?
'tonm.
xxx
Book of the Moment: I finished "Making History" by Stephen Fry. Give it a read. Stunner.
Song of the Moment: "Fox Fire Kilnamona" by Dean Magraw
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