It's such a shit feeling when an artist you admire dies. It's this weird state of mourning, where you didn't really know the person, but at the same time, you did. You knew their art, their music, you knew what they were like on the other side of a camera lens, you've fallen asleep to their voice.
And now they're just... gone. It's hard to comprehend how real it is, because for me the change isn't discernible or immediate.
But fuck does it hurt anyway. I haven't stopped listening to his music since I heard, and I keep crying at random times. It's unfair, so goddamn unfair that he could help me and so many others to pull through, but we couldn't do the same for him.
My reflection is cast on the closing elevator door
Looking worn out but, even like this
The reason why I still blink my eyes and breathe
Is it for me or am I chased?
Tell me honestly, you're feeling so lonely
Tell me honestly, you know you can't go on like this
How long have you been alone?
It's awkward to meet my own eyes in the mirror
For me, for me, for me
Rest in peace Jonghyun. Your music has and will continue to help and inspire me, you seemed like a wonderful person, and I'm so fucking sorry you had to go through so much pain. The world has lost a great musician; your memory will live on.
Onwards, I suppose, for the rest of us.
Moods: that weird state of mourning
Hello folks. Just wanted to let you know the Frosty theme is available for use. You can check it out by going to the bottom left corner of the forum, click the arrow next to "Theme", and select "Frosty". For those on mobile "Theme" will be at the bottom.
I don't know if The Voice is something that we are all born with, which only flourishes under the right circumstances. However, I know it has been active since I was old enough to form an opinion of myself. I remember thinking I was ugly and unlikeable at the very beginning of primary school. Throughout my childhood and my teenage years, The Voice grew stronger and more powerful, fuelled by the harsh words of my fastidious, traditional parents and bullies. At first, I believed The Voice was my friend. It pushed me to excel academically and to be an obedient daughter. It apparently protected me, the socially awkward kid, from any harm by reminding me I was just no good at making real friends. Yet, The Voice never rewarded, but only punished. No amount of A* grades, first class degrees and graduate job offers could convince The Voice to tell me I was worthy. They were all just a fluke. And if they weren't a fluke, The Voice would take all the credit.
The Voice became steadily more and more intelligent. It adapted to changes in my environment, and found ways to thrive. When I left home for university, I also left the bullies and my oppressive parents. Very quickly, I became more outgoing and sociable. By reminding me constantly of the shy, overweight teenager I once was, The Voice pushed me to make friends and to be a good friend, all under the guise of so called high self confidence, high self esteem and good social skills. It picked apart my appearance, alluding to the callous remarks of the year ten boys, who told me I was so ugly that I would never find love. I lost weight and started wearing make up. I got more attention and met my (now ex) boyfriend. The Voice congratulated itself.
I fell absolutely, hopelessly and deeply in love. For a year or so, I was so happy. The Voice lay dormant for the majority of the time, making only very occasional, flimsy remarks. But it was far from dead. It was just weak from a lack of negative events to fuel its purpose. Then it had its greatest chance yet. My boyfriend was white and non-Muslim, two features I knew my parents would not tolerate in any partner of mine. Thus, I kept my relationship secret for a year, uncertain of how to convince them that he made me happy. I felt guilty for keeping him a secret and even worse for lying to the two people who brought me into this world, but I knew telling them wouldn’t be easy. The Voice awoke from its slumber, more aggressive than ever.
“You selfish, undeserving bitch. You’re a fucking coward.”
And so, after a year of dating, at the beginning of my third out of four years of university, I came clean to my parents. As expected, they were furious, and not because I’d kept it a secret. The exact chain of events is long and difficult to explain exactly, but in short, over the course of the next year, they did everything they could to punish me. They emotionally manipulated me, withdrew what financial support they could and kicked me out of the family home where I grew up and would have spent my summers and Christmases in between university terms. They stopped speaking to me entirely. The Voice turned on me.
“This is what you fucking deserve, you cretin. This is all your fault.”
It seemed as soon as I told my parents, my relationship with my boyfriend began to falter. At first, I thought it was due the newfound long distance between us, as I had started a yearlong degree related internship, and he a PhD in different cities. He grew callous and disinterested, rarely coming to visit or allowing me to visit him, and constantly making snide comments about my intelligence, appearance and family. Through my tears and heartbreak, The Voice matured drastically.
“Oh stop crying, you weak bitch. It’s just a joke. You expect too much from the world, you spoilt fucking cow.”
I finished my internship and returned to my university city for the final year of my course, to live with four of the best friends anyone could hope for. Throughout the last four years, these people have supported me emotionally and practically, and I would not be anywhere without them.
“You don’t fucking deserve them. Why don’t they just let you rot on the fucking roadside?”
Their love and support helped me to see how unhappy my relationship was. No matter how much I told him he was being unfair or hurtful, he would not change/ After two and half years together, just before Christmas last year, I left my boyfriend. It was an agonising decision. I had made the effort to tell my parents about my life choices, at least partially for him. Now it felt as I was throwing it all away.
“You weak, flaky c***. You think you can do better? Bullshit. Don’t fucking cry. You broke your own fucking heart.”
But heart broken I was. Shortly after the break up, my housemates popped out for some groceries, leaving me alone for all of half an hour. I remembered I couldn’t even call my mother for support. The dreaded feeling of endless loneliness and a distinct lack of purpose started to arise. The walls felt like they were caving in. I started panting, then sobbing, as the feeling of abandonment began to overwhelm my senses. I collapsed on the floor, beating the ground with my fists and getting more and more frustrated when it didn’t give way. My housemate found me in this state. I still remember how immediately soothing her embrace and gentle instruction to “let it all out” felt.
Barely a month later and now in 2017, I half-jokingly joined a popular dating app, and met a rather arrogant but attractive man who chased me relentlessly. He held utterly appalling views with regards to women and non-white people.
“You’re never going to get any better, hun. Who the fuck do you think you are?”
Unsurprisingly, he disappeared more or less as soon as he got to sleep with me. He told me I was too aggressive and not feminine enough for him to want to consider a relationship with me. The fact my parents didn’t speak to me also made him think I was crazy.”
“Too fucking right. You need to know your place, you arrogant, entitled bitch.”
The new year did bring some good news. I graduated with a first and got an elusive graduate job near London with one of the world’s biggest pharmaceutical companies.
“You. Are. A. Fraud.”
With some encouragement from my friends and also The Voice telling me I was a cold hearted c*** if I didn’t, I invited my parents to graduation, making it clear that, while I was single, I would happily date outside my race again. My dad turned up and a month later I went home for the first time in almost two years. I thought it meant peace.
That summer, I moved down south in preparation for new job, which started in September. I also met a friend of a friend, a genuine and lovely man, at a festival in Scotland. We spent three days together. Although it would have meant very long distance, I was determined to see him again. He took a long time to answer my texts, and eventually stopped contacting me altogether.
“Why the fuck would a true gent like that want YOU? Disgusting trollop.”
As I started my first permanent graduate position, and started to experience the stresses of modern working life, The Voice employed a brand new tactic to keep me down: fantasy. It was like opium for my sense of reality. I was on the way to achieving my concept of perfection: an idyllic middle class family life, everlasting love, financial stability, and a fulfilling career. It was all I thought about – this journey to obtaining self worth through specific achievements. And my would be festival lover could be the leading man. We would not be apart if it were not for circumstance.
I clung onto this ideal for dear life for months following my trip, using it occasionally to distract me from the constant fear of being found out as an incapable, useless fraud at my new job. Then I fell out with my parents again. They told me they still couldn’t accept me or my life choices, that my successes were mediocre and unimpressive and that I would end up alone and a failure. As I walked away from my childhood home once more, I was utterly heart broken. But I was also angry. The Voice took a softer approach this time.
“You *could* prove them wrong. You just need to achieve perfection. I’ll let you off. But nothing less.”
I lived and breathed this fantasy future. It was so much more attractive than the present, seemingly so much more in my control than the bleak past. I started to adjust at work. The Voice wasn’t going to reward my progress.
“Everyone here can see how lazy you are. Stay late, you pig.”
One day, I kept telling myself, we will meet again and fall in love. The Voice didn’t correct me at moments like these. I was allowed to lie to myself, so long as I was aware there was a gold standard I had to aspire to, that I had to desperately want in order to achieve my worth.
This false sense of contentment, which led me to believe the counselling therapy I was now receiving was working all too quickly, inevitably shattered yesterday. Social media can be a poisonous thing. Our would be lover had found another. Upon investigation, it would appear he probably met her shortly after our weekend together.
“Fucking knew it. You would fucking repulse a nice guy like him, and he was mad enough to give you a chance in the first place! Oh, don’t get upset, you pathetic, selfish bitch. Be happy for people that are better than you.”
The ideal is over. I am faced with my reality. Single and alone in an expensive dreary commuter town, in a demanding graduate job, still many years away from the elusive senior positions and without the support of my family. I am forced to come to terms with the mediocrity and imperfections of my lonely, unimpressive and hateable existence. The Voice doesn’t care how far I have come. It only cares how far I have to go. It tells me everything will be just fine when I complete a list of actions, only to reprimand me when I complete the job, but don’t do any better.
But today was the first time in a long time that I accepted the present as being the best dimension for me to focus my attention on. It is the only time I truly have control over and can only be as happy as I am willing to make it. It was the first time in a long time I have ever made the effort to forget the mistakes and pain and the regrets of the past. It was the first time I tried to succeed in the present and for the benefit of tomorrow, without living entirely in the future. That is how I want my life to be.
To continue doing this, I need to kill The Voice. It won’t die with a single shot or a stab. It has to be starved slowly of the negative thoughts that arise from unfortunate situations. It will be a long, hard road. But I have spent somewhere between 15 and 20 years torturing myself by allowing it grow to the monster it is today. I can’t take it anymore. I know how bad it could get if I let it consume me.
“I don’t want your sympathy
I don’t want your honesty
I just want to get some peace of mind”
My friends and their families have supported and loved me through all of this, but their genuine kindness will not pull me through this alone, as grateful as I am. Silencing and killing these lifelong demons myself now is important.
“I don’t want to hear it anymore”
I’ve had enough, and I am ready to change.
A few weekends ago I stumbled upon a really cool neighborhood in Hamburg that's basically the punk leftist heartland. There's cute little shops, cool restaurants and street art everywhere. I fell in love instantly. If I could choose anywhere to live, it would probably there. In the first two pictures there were a few people watching a footballame in front of a bar. The second picture honestly isn't that good but I had to take it secretly because I loved his vest. I was kicking myself for not telling him that and later after exploring the neighborhood I was sitting in the train and fantasizing about complimenting him, and just in this moment he walked past my window at the station, and yet I never saw his face.
I also randomly saw a feminist protest in the city which I immediately joined. I haven't been to any protest in so long (not because I don't want to go, but because I never know when there are protests in the city). It ended in front of the coolest building I've ever seen. It's called the Rote Flora (the red flora) and it's an old theater that's been occupied by leftists since the late 80s.
10 Most popular topics for November 2017
1) Green Day announce new greatest hits album 'God's Favourite Band' - featuring new song - 786 posts
2) The Green Day Fangirls' Confessions Thread - 523 posts
3) Green Day Instagram Photos - 296 posts
4) Blasphemy & Genocide: Unpopular Green Day Opinions, Part 2 - 248 posts
5) Random Green Day Thoughts - 230 posts
6) 'Back In The USA' video - 178 posts
7) Green Day is already going straight into the studio? - 162 posts
8) Green Day Q&A Thread - 115 posts
9) Revolution Radio Promotion and Commercial Performance - 115 posts
10) Green Day Fan Photos - 104 posts
Top 5 Most Active Members
pacejunkie punk (503 posts)
SHART (246 posts)
Billie Joe Armstrong (219 posts)
Todd (208 posts)
desertrose (205 posts)
Top 5 Most Liked Posts This post by Dai. in The Picture Thread This post by Paola17 in 'Back In The USA' video This post by ¡Jenn! in Green Day announce new greatest hits album 'God's Favourite Band' - featuring new song This post by Scattered Wreck in Green Day announce new greatest hits album 'God's Favourite Band' - featuring new song This post by LaughingClock in American Idiot (The Film, Green Lit for HBO)
Members active: 505
New Members: 65
Total Visitors: 18,599
Most registrations in a single day: 9 (November 21st)
Single busiest day: November 16th
New Topics: 90
Total Posts: 5,695
Total PMs sent: 129 new / 597 replies
Blog posts made: 14
Most viewed blog entry: I'm not Dead (Yet) (147 views)
Total Rep Given: 10,178
Hello folks. Lone here with your November stats. Last month was a total sweep for Green Day as far as the top 10 topics goes. We saw an increase of active members (+6%) and total visitors (+7%) from the month of October as well. To slightly recap: we celebrated the release of 'God's Favorite Band' with a new music video and Green Day concluded their Revolution Radio tour in South America. What's next for our boys? If you're looking for a place to voice your thoughts, we have a poll for that!
P.S. Apologies for not keeping up but I've posted the stats from April-September 2017 so if you're interested, check them out here!
Somehow I've suddenly not posted any writing here for coming up to a year.
EDIT: I liked this when I saw it again and did a little rewrite, changed up the middle stanza and made it a little more reflective. I like it. I've not been writing much - I've not had vast amounts of inspiration - but the more my year in Sheffield fades in the rear view mirror the more I'm drawing from it, the more I see it did for me.
Said she was down from Glasgow
And out looking for a bit of a rascal
Who’s up for dancing all night on the tables;
Someone who ain’t all hung up on social labels,
She’s dressed up to the nineteen nineties;
Cargo pants and an orange velvet crop top
She got for cheap in a Dev Street second hand shop,
Matches her hair, could make the night stop
She thought “I - I can see it in his eyes,
He’s only in it for the prize”
But Oh darling I –
I see it in your eyes
‘Cross all the spilled beers you look alive.
Can I take you home?
And I can't promise if you come 'round tonight
That you're gunna have the night of your life.
And you know this isn't more than it seems;
I never said it, but you know where I've been,
You've been there too, so try me tonight.
Your mates are jealous and they're off picking fights.
When I see you there's one thing that I know;
You've got some spirit, you've got a northern soul...
All linked arms singing Come On Eileen
During the verses I catch her eyeing me
While her friend’s friend makes his move and
Leans in for the kiss and only gets his girls’ hand…
In mine, she turns around
The whole crowd cheers us on,
We forget about the song…
And Darling I –
I see a little green in your eyes
On this night, in this light you look alive
Oh let’s go home?
“I like that you seem suave…
Tell me all your stories
And we’ll stay up ‘till the morning”
Oh Darling I –
I kissed her body and I told her
All the things that make me older
And she laughed
And rolled a little closer;
“This’ll just be another story!”
Feel so alive.
New lyrics. Enjoy.
I don't bow to hurricanes
When the need strikes,
you gotta take the reins
Soak up the poison, choking me
make me do things you wouldn't believe
Impulse or reason,
Moderation or greed
Believe in the sickness
Believe in me
Unable to be cured
Leave us to die
At the whim of the absurd
Incentivize the pured
Leave the young to cry
From the pike of the torturer
I can see it now
We're the ones left behind
A touch of the mortal
Cut even shorter from those unkind
I can feel it now
An obsession man-made
The caress of the bank
makes the world afraid
We are animals
The chain has been linked
We are animals
Spinal tensions, we blinked
I spend a lot of my free time walking around in the city taking photos. Which is only the weekends because it's already dark when I get off work Stupid winter. Here's a portion! I will post more within the next week or so
Oslo on January 25th was supposed to be my last show until Manchester on February 6th. So when I got back from Oslo, of course I sold a few things on eBay and bought a Paris ticket. I’d go, camp out, then come straight home.
Then a couple of days before the Brussels show, I saw my friend Anja selling a ticket for it. It was the day before Paris and would just work with my uni schedule… but I’d already booked my Ouibus to Paris. Did I abandon it? It was 12€ which is approximately 55 bowls of pasta… yeah, alright, another Green Day show was more important than 55 bowls of pasta.
I had a crit that morning – a group where tutors and students critique each other’s work on their project so far – and I’d been showing this work. They already thought I was insane, then someone asked if I was going to more shows and I was like ‘well, I’m getting the night bus to go to Brussels tonight, I just booked it.’
My mum Joy was absolutely not meant to be coming to these shows. I was meant to be going alone and not staying anywhere. She was still in a lot of pain after people pushed her over in Oslo, too. So what did we do? Booked her a bus to London and a seat on my bus to Brussels, obviously. She used to live in Brussels – it would be like a hometown show. That was my excuse for talking her into it, anyway.
Ah, so here I was: hurriedly shoving all my camping gear into a big suitcase (I don’t remember why I took that instead of The Backpack) and dragging it through Truro to catch the night bus. It was about a 12 hour journey. I might have slept half an hour until it filled up in Exeter. When I arrived in London at 6am I was 99% convinced I had become a zombie.
Two hours later, with about 15 minutes until our Megabus, my mum’s bus was still stuck in traffic. It pulled in with a few minutes to spare, but I could have left without that metaphorically soiled underwear.
You know, boarding these buses is kind of like doors at a Green Day show. Some people take the queue very seriously and stand there for ages, others just clump around the queue to rush it when doors open and everyone is desperate to get in first. Anyway, I’d been sitting there for a good two hours, so I was not moving from the front of the line and got us the back seat. After the anticlimactic Eurotunnel (I didn’t even meet the Dark Bladers?! Do they know I’m a champion Beyblader?), we tried to spread out and sleep but we didn’t have much luck. Maybe it was the thought of those strip searches the driver told us were popular at that border.
My mum says it rained for at least five minutes every single day she lived in Brussels, and to welcome her back it was a typical grey, rainy day. As the bus approached the station, the driver announced that he was parking around the corner to deter luggage thieves. He urged us all to collect our luggage immediately and to hang onto it tightly. We rushed off the bus to grab it and despite the rain, my mum commented ‘Brussels has changed.’
When we finally figured out the Metro system and got to the venue, it was deserted and unclear where the line should start. The area looked pretty dodgy (well, Brussels seemed dodgy). I was beyond exhausted and didn’t want to sleep on the wet ground and/or get stabbed to find a proper line elsewhere when I woke up. We went to get pizza in the Belgian equivalent of Pizza Kebap and got a few hours sleep before heading back in the early morning.
Fans from Spain, Finland, the Netherlands and England lining up at Forest National, Brussels, 7am
Me (trying and failing to sleep) and Tamsin, also from England
As the sun rose the day proved to be the warmest of the tour. We were actually able to take the blankets back early! Seriously! We weren’t wrapped in tin foil all day!
From left to right: Magnus from Denmark, Sara from Spain and me, Yaz and Becky from England
The line: getting longer
Brussels line, midday, ft. the ‘she’s coming to the show?’ look my mum gets every time
It was early afternoon when the staff yelled that they were moving us and we needed to dump our rubbish immediately. Everyone began clearing up in a panic. I couldn’t throw everything away – I had my camera and camping stuff. Our hotel was a good ten minutes away. Sara rescued me by running all our stuff to her Airbnb nearby. When we got back they were locking us into barriers where we apparently weren’t allowed to bring any food or drink. I still needed to get my ticket from Anja and pay her for it, but she wasn’t there yet and I’d had to leave my purse in the Airbnb. Fortunately she arrived just in time and we agreed I’d PayPal her later.
Something incredible happened when they transferred us to the new line: they honoured our number system. It’s never done because we expect venues to care – it’s just to help prevent line cutting and if venues do get it, that’s an added bonus. I’d never seen it happen before, though, until we joined this new line in numbered order. The line was kept in order by Magnus and a local lady who was super helpful explaining how the venue worked. My mum also sent back two line cutters in French. #proud
When they let us in later they were still reasonably organised – I definitely remember it as one of the less stressful entries of the tour. Thanks to the local lady’s directions, I ran and got our favourite spot: Mike’s corner. My mum of course got pushed aside by kids who saw she was vulnerable, but I was saving her a spot so it didn’t do them any good.
The traditional barrier selfie: Brussels
We knew most of the lyrics to The Interrupters’ set and they knew us at this point, which was both cute and hilarious. They never got boring – they were just so much fun. When Green Day came on, Magnus was the first fan on stage. Billie snatched his Danish flag and displayed a Belgian one instead (all in good fun, of course).
I’m not someone who really cares about the setlist – I wouldn’t go to so many shows if I found it dull – but when Billie began playing the intro to Troubled Times, the crowd clapping along, I must have deafened the people around me. They’d played it at the previous show in Amsterdam, but I didn’t think they’d ever play it again. It was so powerful live and I will never forget hearing it in a foreign country after impulsively making a 24 hour bus journey from Cornwall.
In Longview, the girl Billie pulled up to sing attached herself to Tré and he had to tell her ‘you’re here to sing, not make out with Tré Cool!’
Before playing Scattered, Billie announced ‘it’s Aimee from The Interrupters’ birthday today!’ before beginning to play something it took me a few seconds to recognise. Then I turned to my mum and screamed ‘it’s Amy!’ and she registered it with wide eyes. It was such an incredible coincidence, because it was there in Brussels of all places, that hearing that meant the world to her. Her story in the We Are Revolution Radio book of fan stories sums up the show, really.
My mum’s story in the We Are Revolution Radio book of fan stories
After the show we headed to the bus station with Tamsin and Anita from Ireland for our Megabus to Paris. The luggage thieves business had unsettled us quite a bit, but the piss-scented street was deserted. I slept for an hour or so on the bus but my mum didn’t. We tumbled off the bus and into the line with our luggage at 6am.
The line in Paris, 6am
Soon they moved us closer to the entrance and we (understandably) weren’t allowed to take our suitcases into the barriers. So I went into the line alone and held places while the others decided what to do with all our luggage. I laid on the cold ground and tried to sleep but it was freezing and my camping gear was in the suitcase. A while later my mum was able to dump our luggage in our hotel early and everyone joined me to begin the long wait.
Paris line, late morning, ft. my Milan blanket
At some point in the afternoon, my mum and I went to get food and when we came back, the security guy who knew us had disappeared and the new one refused to let us back in. We were told to make our way to the barrier separating our line from a later one, where Anita soon joined us when they wouldn’t let her back in either. It had begun to rain and anxiety was setting in. We’d been there for an hour or two when our security guy finally returned from lunch, laughed and let us back in.
We’d seen Green Day in Paris in 2010 but we had seated tickets, so everything I’d heard about Parisian crowds being the worst had kind of gone over my head – it just felt like a fun, energetic atmosphere up in the seats. As doors grew closer the line became a tight squeeze, I got into an argument with a line cutter and people were beginning to lose their footing. Drunk people from behind were pushing and begging us to just let them past. When security called us forward, my mum was splayed over a barrier that was toppling over in the surge, with a half-eaten camembert in her face. I don’t think anything could be more French than being shoved almost to the ground with a drunk guy’s camembert invading your personal space.
I was held up when my phone set the scanners off and then it was forever until they searched me. When I finally got in, Anita was saving me a spot on the catwalk which I was incredibly grateful for. We managed to squeeze my mum in later. The crowd was certainly the most aggressive yet, which was an experience in itself. Every few minutes I was fighting someone new out of my spot. I couldn’t breathe, but I was having fun. My favourite moment was probably Scattered. It was still surreal that I was hearing that song not once, but multiple times. I was also thrilled to actually see all of Still Breathing since because I preferred front row to the catwalk, it was the first time I’d seen it from that angle. Being able to see all these songs from different points of view was a luxury I was grateful for throughout the tour.
Paris, the day after the show
It was raining the next day as we got lost trying to find the Ouibus stop and missed our bus in the process. We ended up sitting in a café where I tried to dry my socks over a radiator, and very nearly got lost again when looking for our new bus. Eventually we made it and I must say, I quite liked Ouibus. I mean, I don’t really like any coaches, but some are better than others, you know? I could write a coach comparison blog.
The most exciting view of Paris we got, via Ouibus: turned sepia to make it look like an old postcard? Or something?
The British border from the Ouibus
I joined my mum on the overnight bus to Nottingham. I would have had to leave as soon as I arrived if I’d gone back to Cornwall, and I appreciated the few hours of sleep in my own bed before we headed to Manchester. Neither of us were going to Leeds, until Tamsin messaged me to let me know someone was selling a ticket. Being the complete twat I am, I left my stuff with my mum in our Manchester hotel and got back on the train. On the 99 Revolutions Tour she went to Leeds Festival while I stayed home, so we were swapping places, in a way. I arrived in Leeds an hour or so before doors, legging it up and down the escalators in the station (I had a legit phobia of escalators for years and it ended there), accidentally going the wrong way and then finally making it to the arena.
My mum wasn’t there for a traditional barrier selfie, so I selfie’d me and my flag instead
I ran for my life when doors open and managed to get the end of the barrier on Jason’s side. In all honesty, I hadn’t slept for days and I was exhausted, my ribs were bruised from a crowd surfer in Paris and I was panicking way too much about the Manchester queue. The crowd initially seemed unresponsive too, until Billie roared ‘I want to hear your loud English voices!’ and it was as if we all woke up. I was no longer tired and it was a surreal experience, being back where it all began for me, in arenas in England. Because there is no experience like Green Day in England. There’s no energy like this, no atmosphere like this, anywhere else. To be one of those voices, a collective voice so loud it feels like it could shake the bowels of the earth – it’s surreal. I’m really not at all patriotic, but Billie screaming ‘fuck you I’m from ENGLAND!’ at the top of his lungs in Youngblood, then thanking us for welcoming him home was something else. They also played Armatage Shanks and I may have temporarily died (of happiness, obviously).
I watched the fire raining down in Still Breathing, and in my head I could still see that similar scene during 21 Guns, back at Birmingham’s (formerly) LG Arena in 2009. I couldn’t stop myself crying as I recalled how then, the lyrics about giving up resonated with me so. Now, there I stood, as strong, happy and confident as I could ever have wished to be. I’d been so close to giving up, but I never did. I was still breathing. Partially because of this band. I have no doubt that thousands of others in that arena, screaming the words at the top of their lungs, were feeling the same way.
Couldn’t resist a phone pic of my home country confetti
After the show I met up with Neeraja from India who I knew through Green Day. It was her first show and I was so happy she’d finally had the chance to see them. We got lost on our way to the bus station and managed to find it after asking a nightclub’s security guy for directions.
Before I unintentionally fell asleep on the bus, I wrote with the last of my phone’s battery: ‘I am exhausted. My head hurts and my eyes don’t want to stay open. But I’m so ready for my last show.’
Want to submit your story, photos or fan art to be part of the next We Are Revolution Radio book? You can, and totally should, do that here!
Hey guys, I'm Nico and welcome to another episode of Nico Talks About Stuff!
Today's topic is something that annoys many people: Censorship in video games.
Well, I think it's okay if a few things are cut out of a game to have them allowed for ages 13 and up, but the part where I think "What the hell?" is the fact that even 17+ games are getting cut.
I mean, here in Germany, it's clear that they think underage kids are stupid and have never seen blood before, but if they really think adults are as stupid, I'm thinking "Whoa... what world do you live in?"
Of course, there's the blood censoring: Character: *gets shot* Oh my God! I'm bleeding to death! I'M BLEEDING TO DEATH! Player: Dude, there's no blood anywhere...
But that's not all. Some shooters go as far as to make the corpses just... disappear.
They... disappear. Where to? And more importantly... why?!
But video games are not the only victims. Movies and TV series have a hard time here too.
Let's take Naruto as an example. Here is a picture of a scene from the original version, and here is a picture of that same scene from the European version. Wow.
Something else in Naruto: Censored dialogue. Instead of...
I... will kill you! Haha, we'll see about that!
...we get this:
I... will degrade you! What? Dude, you can't do that! I'm the highest officer! Do you even know how long it took for me to work my way up?!
But sometimes, in the US, things don't get better. For example, let's look at One Piece. This is the original version, and this is the 4Kids version. The gun was replaced by a fucking toy hammer...?
What is that? That's so stupid! That's like if I would replace a rifle with an umbrella or something...
Then, there are some changes that I just can't understand. Just look at this. What the fuck? Definitely not racist. At all. I don't even wanna know what was going on in their heads.
Here's my personal opinion: Of course you don't need to show kids a head bursting open or something. But I think blood should be shown. Why? Come on. There's some guy that gets cut open by someone, and he doesn't lose any blood? The kids might think: "Hey, that doesn't look too dangerous!" and they might do it themselves.
"Hehe, does this hurt? *stabs own foot* Oh... my G-- wait, what's that red liquid? I was fooled!"
Yeah, I think it's more risky to cut it out, because you should know the consequences and learn out of them!
What do you think about our German censorship? Write a comment down below! See you next Sunday!
Gosh, this title is so corny but oh well, it fits.
It's been pretty much exactly two weeks now since I quite spontaneously packed my bags and moved my ass north-bound from Frankfurt to Hamburg. For those who don't know, I've been offered a 2 month internship in the communications devision of Greenpeace Germany. I had applied for it back in April and heard nothing back until late August when they promised one of their employees would get back to me when he returned from his vacation. It was a pretty long vacation apparently, because he emailed me in mid to late October - which was only one or two weeks from November, when I was supposed to start.
On the next morning I had a Skype interview with him, his co-worker and another woman. He had told me previously that it was just a "get to know each other talk", but then it turned out to be one of the worst job interview grilling's I've ever had. The other worst one was with a small agency right here in Frankfurt, who had also insisted that it was not an interview, but behaved just like it was. That's the thing both of them had in common and I feel like sometimes (possible) employers don't quite understand the amount of stress the interviewee is under and saying things like "take it easy" doesn't make it easier if they have no intention of making it easier for you except saying that the sky is green instead of blue.
I came out of it with a pretty bad feeling and felt very low and hopeless over the weekend, thinking that they wouldn't take me because I blew the interview and made a bad impression. I was thinking I would never find a job if I couldn't even find a goddamn internship and I was questioning my entire life. Then on Monday, they told me that I got the job and then everything went very quickly. I wouldn't get paid, but they would give me a spot in the intern apartment in Hamburg that I would share with like 9 other interns. I was excited of course, but I couldn't really look forward to it because even though I said I accepted the position, so many things were still unsure. They didn't know if I would be able to get a place in the apartment at first because it was so spontaneous and then I would have to look for a room myself - which I would never be able to do within a week, and so I wasn't sure I would be able to go at all, up until a few days before my departure. Needless to say though, they had a free bed in the apartment for me, but that didn't keep my anxiety from completely blowing through the roof. Good old me who usually has a hard time befriending people and being social, who's too insecure to apply for a side job and has never lived alone would move to the big city at the other end of the country all by herself, she would immediately meet tons of new people and start a new job. I was actually close to backing out of it, but the main reason for me to come here was that I needed experience to apply for other jobs in the future and that it would probably look extremely good on my resume.
Cut to two and a half weeks later and I'm sitting in the living room, listening to Bang Bang on the stereo and my roommate with whom I just talked about activism and music just went to bed, and I'm alone here. I spent the evening at the university and finally figured out a way to use their wifi to catch up on two episodes of the Punisher on Netflix and downloaded tons of episodes of Skins and two movies, including Mean Girls for me to watch here in the apartment when I'm bored in the evening and don't feel like socializing. I've had two weeks of internet detox, since there's no wifi at all in the apartment and I've been having a hard time finding public hotspots until I just started spending too much money at Starbucks to use their internet. The second blue light flashing ambulance/police car in the past hour has passed by the window, as they do every evening in this part of the city, even though I've never had a bad experience here since I'm here. I'm guessing Hamburg is rather safe in comparison to where I'm from and I have no fear walking around at night by myself. Or maybe I'm just naive.
Hamburg is a wonderful city, and I gotta say, I didn't know big cities could be this beautiful. Frankfurt is the standard for me and I really don't like to linger there, but this city really is something else. I love living so close to water in general, that's something I'm missing from home. You see old buildings everywhere, and you can tell that they are making an effort to make the city look nice. For every pigeon there's at least three seagulls screaming and flying over your head and fighting for abandoned breadcrumbs, there's really not a lot of cars here because the towns are really cyclist-friendly and the public transport is excellent. There's a bus leaving and arriving every couple of minutes from a bus stop 5 minutes from my apartment and you can get everywhere by train or bus + short walks. I've been making a point of going out on weekends to see the city and take pictures, even in bad weather, because it's always dark when I leave work. I've stayed at "home" only once since I'm here and I can honestly say I feel great about it.
I'm in a really good place mentally in general. I'm going to bed at a reasonable hour (always before midnight, sometimes 10 or 11), I'm waking up early and leave the house to get shit done and learn things and get experience. I'm not saying I'm cured of everything, I still have my PD/depression/anxiety moments when I don't talk to anyone and don't leave my room because I don't feel like talking. But the depression is really keeping it's distance from my mind, now that I'm actually doing something and not just rotting away at home. My flatmates are nice mostly, and so is my roommate. Sometimes they are annoying the shit out of me, sometimes we all share a laugh over tea, but I'm guessing that's to be expected when you live in a tight space with strangers. I'm pretty sure I've been annoying them too, for example when I didn't clean the kitchen fast enough for them. (I was gonna fucking do it this week, no need to passive-aggressively do it yourself while I'm at work all day.)
I've had multiple people complimenting my music taste ("Green Day is cool") and my name ("Your name is Justine?! What kind of fucking amazing name is that?!") in the apartment and at work, so I guess I came to the right place here. Most of them have their hearts in the right place and especially at work everyone has been really nice to me. I spent the first whole week of my internship doing nothing but sitting in meetings and conferences, reading up on coal and combustion engines and running around to IT because I kept having problems with my laptop and Photoshop - but they're really cool guys so I enjoyed showing up there. Some people are downright intimidating (albeit nice and greeting me with fistbumps and 'what's up Justine', but pronouncing it wrongly) but those people seem to be the geniuses of this organization. The meetings are incredibly interesting and incredibly top-secret, which makes me feel incredibly fortunate to be able to be a part of it. After a couple of weeks I can somewhat work independently, and sometimes I feel stupid asking if they have got any work for me, but I guess that's just the life of an intern. Compared to other interns I have a lot to do though.
My daily tasks mainly consist of monitoring twitter to see how people respond to Greenpeace, choosing pictures and writing posts for Instagram, cross marketing videos and podcasts and events on Instagram stories, and draft tweets, and correspond with other teammates. My supervisors have been liking my stuff this far and said that I was a huge help, which makes me feel fantastic. I'm getting less awkward around the people there too, which is a huge relief. I'm still meeting so many new people everyday and often forget their names right after they've introduced themselves to me. The highlight this week was me being allowed to tweet something snarky to the German equivalent of the Daily Show whose twitter's only purpose is throwing shade at absolutely everyone (and who I'm a big fan of for exactly that reason).
I feel like I'm doing exactly what I'm good at here and it's also good to get positive attention from my classmates and old acquaintances who message me with things like "omg you're at greenpeace!?!?!" lol.
It's already pretty late, so I guess I'll make the cut here and post this without proofreading cause I'm tired as shit so forgive me.
Hey guys! I'm Nico, I'm wearing a hat with the colors of the German flag right now (I know it's not relevant to the topic, but whatever) and welcome to a new episode of: Nico Talks About Stuff, the blog where I talk about stuff.
Today's topic is something that annoys many gamers: Hackers and cheaters in online games. There are many types of hacks in games, and I will present them to you right here.
But wait! Before we begin, some of you might have seen the post called "Nico Talks About Stuff #8 coming soon". Well, I posted something that I did not want to post yet, and I don't know how to delete a blog post, so I had to replace it... at 5am in the morning. Life is tough, man. Anyways, let's continue.
"OMG, I'm so fast! Nobody can stop me now--" Server Admin Kicked DEPortalFreak2004. Fail!
Player 1: I will give you 2,000,000 vodk-- healing potions if you give me 200,000!
Player 2: How did you get so many? Player 1: Tricks and more tricks, y'know. Player 2: Uh, you do know I'm the server admin, right? Player 1: ...scheiße. Server Admin Kicked DEOrangeJuice2004. Fail!
Player 1: What the...? Player 2: Hahaha, I can fly and nothing can stop me!! Oh, I took a dump in the air! Oops, I'm so sorry! Player 1: Ew! Player 2: Hahahahaha! Yeah, this is amazi-- Server Admin Kicked PoopyJohn. fail...
Player 1: *shoots Player 2 a dozen times, he doesn't die* Dude, you're a damn cheater, that's what you freaking are!
Player 2: Was? Those are my German genes! We can withstand anything!
Player 1: Hey, come here.
Player 2: What's up?
Player 1: *punches Player 2 in the face, Player 2 dies* fail...!
So, yeah, hacking in online games isn't cool. If you hack offline, that's fine by me! It can be funny sometimes:
Haha, let me try "/give ham_sandwich"! Oh, it worked! Well... "/give two_sexy_ladies_in_bikini"... of course nothing happened.
Guess you can't always have everything...
So, the moral of the story is: Cheating offline is okay, but hacking online is just lame. It's unnecessary and just sucks the fun out of the other players. So, just let it be.
If you want to, write a comment about your opinion on hacking and cheating. Maybe you've used hacks before, who knows? Or maybe you have other stories to tell us. Just write a comment down below.
And here's a special message for the hackers: If you really need something to do that's unnecessary, just do something else, like hum the melody to On the Floor by Jennifer Lopez for 10 hours a day! (whoa I just remembered that song after not listening to it for like four years or something)
Some new lyrics. Enjoy.
to the burning stage
Fading in the envy
of men from every age
From the canvas to the warfield
the body to the mind
Epilogue to the destruction
The theory we seek to find
Tell me again, what you do
Laughter falls from the flares to you
Exile the happenstance
There's more to you than first glance
You are not above, you've sunk too low
Glazed disciples from the marble blue
courting the jester trapped inside
Through the rapids when you collide
The carcass expenditure you can't renew
Void is clean, imagery
The golden mean is obligatory
Repeals success in its story
Cracked view in synergy
From the same level, we rose up
From the same we return again
From the ones that you back up
From the same you fall then
Stone shatters with the membrane
A virus will tear through the walls
The podium you call from a vein
will be permeated by voices in the halls
Here I stand
More or less intact
Sunshine on my back
In fact, I'm fine
I'm getting by
One reassurance at a time
I would write myself
A battle hymn
And sing the words
Day in, day out
Has a self-defeating way
Of burning out
And seeding doubt
I stare down my demons
But they don't tend to flinch
The guilt, the insecurity
And all this fucking baggage
If there's one thing that I've learned
It's that this shit is made of plastic:
Throw it all away
But it will stay right where it lays
It takes so much longer
Than a lifetime to decay
It's in the way
In the ocean of the mind
It flows into a garbage reef
Soda cans and grocery bags
A monument to grief
An image of the struggle
To move on; it would resemble
The visage of an old dog's foggy eyes
Hello there. (As ever, apologies if my rant goes left, right, up and down and I don't claim to be a expert in anything. I'm also going out first draft-no proofreading writer.)
Chapter/Verse/Hymn 2 - Pre-Consultation.
I always imagined therapy to have a big chair to lie on. Y'know, just like the movies or TV. Turns out not, maybe when I get to my first proper assessment.
So today was my pre-consultation aka "We booked this appointment for you months ago, remind us why you are here, has anything changed?". And because nothing has really changed mentally, some good stuff has happened recently - thanks to you six. You know who you are. But I'm at this stage in my life for a reason
So after assessing over stuff with a professional (which I wrote in my first blog) it turns out that indeed I do need therapy - so my next appointment will be the real thing. Turns out after assessing all the stuff I told them/questionnaires/doctors references, there are four points they will focus on and officially diagnose:
Anxiety - Fully expecting anxiety, it has made me physically sick and the idea of social interacting (eight times out of ten) with people has me scampering for the nearest dark place.
Depression - Not really surprised, it has always been lingering around for many years now, hopefully will find a way to combat it so it fucks off entirely.
OCD and Bipolar - These are the surprising ones - after looking them up through Google (the scariest thing you can do) I find it now somewhat related to myself and how I've been acting recently.
So, now I wait for my first appointment and hope to crack the glass ceiling, to put some wood on the fire.
Here's to trying not to give up.
Hi all. I just wanted to come on here because I haven't posted in a while!
I have been inactive online due to multiple things...here are some:
I have been incredibly ill since September 17th. I was admitted to hospital for sixteen days and am still ill. I was told everything in the book; that I'm allergic to mushrooms, that I'm pregnant, that it's more kidney issues, kidney stones (which I had before, it wasn't that pain), etc. I have a fischer on my colon which is over 2" in length and am suspected to have chronic appendicitis. I was supposed to have surgery but was sewn back up because they said the surgery would split my colon. I am still in immense pain and going to multiple appointments weekly.
I am trying to lose weight. During the past year and a half I was on a very serious steroid to help with my kidney issues. Little did we even know my appendix was causing the infections in my other organs. Now that I am off of the steroids and switched to Cipro, I have been able to lose a lot of weight Not at my old size yet but so close and I am so proud of myself! My vegan lifestyle helps a lot with that to be honest. My face feels a lot less puffy when I sleep and my pants don't feel tight anymore. <3
I have been in placement. I am in placement for a mental health agency in my city and it truly has been the best experience of my life, apart from any Green Day concert and meeting Tom. It is a lot of work but I am learning so much and really expanding on my social work skills! I hope I get hired here, it is my dream job.
Placement is 24 hours minimum a week. Classes are 10 hours a week. I work 10-20 hours at PetSmart a week, 4 hours a week with a client, and 4-8 hours a week with another client. All of my free time is used to do homework and talk to Tom and see my pets...also work out and build on my resume.
I have been applying for Master's programs.
I have been applying for graduation awards.
This week I started going out with friends again and trying to make memories.
And yeh! That's what's up with me. Mainly the two first things but I just wanted to let people know I'm not dead. I have some of you on Facebook and I love hearing from you all. I still am in love with Green Day (listening to 86 right now), and still stay updated. I am trying to improve on my mental health and physical health a lot and just want to cross that finish line to graduation! I miss you all and can't wait to be more active when I'm graduated.
10 Most popular topics for October 2017
1) The Green Day Fangirls' Confessions Thread - 1,266 posts
2) Green Day announce new greatest hits album 'God's Favourite Band' - featuring new song - 498 posts
3) Random Green Day Thoughts - 308 posts
4) Green Day Instagram Photos - 227 posts
5) Eyeliner Collab Billie & Kat VonD - 223 posts
6) Random Thoughts - 196 posts
7) Blasphemy & Genocide: Unpopular Green Day Opinions, Part 2 - 157 posts
8) Voting - GDC Awards 2017 - 126 posts
9) GDC Awards 2017 - The Results - 106 posts
10) Random Green Day News - 99 posts
Top 5 Most Active Members
Billie Joe Armstrong (421 posts)
pacejunkie punk (335 posts)
SHART (256 posts)
Hermione (244 posts)
G-L-O-R-I-A (234 posts)
Top 5 Most Liked Posts This post by She-Loves-Him in The Picture Thread This post by RedundantIdiot in The Green Day Fangirls' Confessions Thread This post by Maria Gloria in WAKE UP BILLIE JOE This post by kaylubd in Green Day announce new greatest hits album "God's Favourite Band" - featuring new song This post by G-L-O-R-I-A in The Green Day Fangirls' Confessions Thread
Members active: 478
New Members: 69
Total Visitors: 17,373
Most registrations in a single day: 4 (October 3rd)
Single busiest day: October 12th
New Topics: 62
Total Posts: 5,959
Total PMs sent: 98
Blog posts made: 23
Most viewed blog entry: Top 50 influential albums (878 views)
Total Rep Given: 12,839
Hola peeps. Lone here with your October stats. Last month we had our annual GDC Awards. Congratulations to all the winners and runner ups. Also big thanks to those who voted. If you missed the winners, check out the #9 thread. (It felt like I just typed this yesterday for last year's awards!) In other news, we have a new cd/cassette/vinyl and eyeliner to look forward to. You can find more info in the thread above.
We'd like to hear what type of contests you'd like to see. Leave your suggestions/comments below!
now the summer of 2015 was only a small spark. after returning home and listening to green day i began to find other good punk music i found a love for nirvana as well
a few bands include : the dead kennedys, the Ramones, Greenday, rancid, sum41, some blink-182, the offspring, and a few other random punk songs
twas the summer of 2015 i found the joy of punk rock. we were caping in ohio for boy scout summer camp and we where sitting arount the camp fire and @Jesus of Seneca had a cd player with a bunch of green day and ramones cds and a few other band but we sat around the fire listening to music for quite a while and thats how i became informed of the joys of greenday
'Sup dudes, my name is Wilhelm. Nico isn't here yet, but I'm supposed to tell you this entry is all about Facebook. That was my idea! I told him to write something about Facebook, but he didn't want to do it because it has nothing to do with games. However, then I gave him some orange juice. It tasted so good he instantly told me I have good ideas. Everything went perfectly. Have fun!
Hey guys, I'm your host Nico, and welcome to Nico Talks About Stuff! And today, we're talking about Facebook! Hold on... that wasn't orange juice... what the fuck?!
First of all, this won't be a rant about Facebook... at least not only a rant about it, I'll also present some good things about it.
So, what annoys you about Facebook? For me, it's those damn Facebook apps. I mean, okay, there are some good ones... right? But if you get something on your wall like:
"Does Nico have a crush on Rebecca Black?" No...?
"Does Nico have a crush on Justin Bieber?" No!
"Does Nico sleep with a stuffed animal at night?" Um... yeah...?
I know some of you are thinking I should block them. But they always return with a different name! For example, the one app I always block and always returns is: "What do you think of THIS picture?" And then there's a picture with... the duckface.
The Duckface Phenomenon
Have you noticed how many women do photos like this? Well... men don't get as turned on as you would think. Just for this entry, I asked 20 of my male friends on Facebook what they think of these pictures, and... well... let's get back to Facebook apps.
Some other stuff I don't like are virus apps like: OMG! SCANDAL: Rollercoaster Accident - The Media Held it Back from Us... seriously? The media hold a rollercoaster accident back from us?
Or stuff like this: SCANDAL! (Person 1) and (Person 2) Caught Having Sex - Click Here to See the Tape! First of all, who cares? I don't. Well, the thing is, if you download the application to see the scandal, you automatically send the same message to all your friends, which means: Virus. Wow, it's so safe on Facebook...
What also annoys me about Facebook is something that isn't their fault. It's certain people on the platform that have to tell everyone what they do every ten minutes. With their sweetheart, of course. "Lunch with sweetie :-D"
And the funniest moment is always when their relationship is over: "My sweetie left me... :(" 293 people liked this. "I FUCKING HATE YOU." Well, they added in those little buttons where you can show your emotions like sad, happy or something. But still, in that case, Facebook can be funny.
That concludes this entry of Nico Talks About Stu-- why do I write the same ending every time? Well, leave your opinion on Facebook in the comments. See you next Sunday!