If you've paid attention to me recently, you'll know I went to Oakland in February. I wrote a thing about it here: https://wander.media/from-scotland-to-oakland-with-rage-and-love
Please go read! (or at least click on the link and leave it open for a while)
I really enjoyed my time there, and I'm so grateful to have had this opportunity, although there's still so many places I'd love to visit. I missed out on a Cover Ups show by about a week, which is frustrating, but at least I got to
One of the most common new year's resolutions is to exercise more, a change that could be implemented at any time of the year. The beginning of a new year feels like the perfect excuse for a fresh start, and to change something about yourself you've been meaning to for some time. But of course the popularity of this gives rise to offers, which makes more people leave it until the start of a new year to go to the gym. And thus the circle of new year's resolutions continues ad nauseam.
There's many ways the write about your first time seeing your favourite band live (Leeds, 05/02/17), an event I've waited for for over half my life. I chose my favourite: rambling, inconsistent poem, filled with references you may or may not get.
cover the streets
in your plastic garb
throw your blankets out
and run inside
rain for cover
like a stampede of unicorns
know your enemy
king sized hopes
To go along with this blog, I made a playlist of music, trying to make each song a song that meant something to me during each year of my life, while also having a relevant song title. It ends with honourable mentions that didn't quite fit in elsewhere.
Music means something different to each of us. Each song makes your heart beat in a different way, as you find your own way to relate to it. We dance through life with the help of the songs that keep us going. Since we all h
I've lived here all my life
I know all the landmarks
I see them still
As the landmarks of my childhood
The blockbuster on the corner
Though it has long since
Become another shop
Shall always be
The blockbuster on the corner
To places I have tread
To still see my footprint
Forgetting the many footprints
That have obscured mine
Expecting a clear print
Where now there is only
These landmarks of my youth
No really this isn't a sonnet. But it isn't really a blog entry either. It's a poem. It was /meant/ to be a sonnet. It's not. But I haven't updated this in forever. So here:
It is strange to think how soon we shall go
Leaving nothing but a wretched old foe
For many this will be a brand new low
Once upon a time you'd pick up your bow
But as no hero with no superpowers
You will drift away from your lonely tower
Not that you were ever known to go cower
Will you be as forgotten as you thin
Hey, remember that year...? Oh shit, maybe I should have gotten around to writing this earlier. To make the jokes about not washing all year. Nope, this is the day I eventually get around to doing all those things I should have done days, if not weeks, ago. Months ago in some cases.
So let's start at the beginning. Always a good place to start. That moment when 2012 started, when I was standing outside watching the fireworks go off and thinking about the year that was just starting. 2012.
Saturday 1st December, 5.30pm
I met a couple of friends in KFC for some food before the Snow Ball. We'd planned this well in advance. Exchanging glances due to the family of chavs yelling across the room. Another friend arriving. Leaving, I swung my cloak on. Off to the student union, which yes looks a little like Hogwarts. In the entrance, our friend joined us. Our party complete, we made our way up the twisting stairs. On the top floor, to the left. Showing our tickets gained each of us a g
Just some things I've been writing while at the university's creative writing society. In no particular order.
Prompts for fire and books turned into this:
The heat of a thousand suns
The strength of a truck
There you lie, as flat as can be, slouched out in your bottle next to the hundreds of millions of brothers and sisters you have come to know. Flat. Not just flat, but incredibly thin. The top is twisted off the bottle. It's like a breath of fresh air. Heck, it is a breath of fresh air. Up, up you spiral, dizzying spins through the air. The first thing you come into contact with, you can easily sail through. but now it's dark again. Through into a cell. What kind of cell? Who cares. Here's a nice
This is something I've been considering writing for a while. Science is that magical realm that enthralls everyone, even those that don't recognize it as such. Pretty colours, fire and explosions, what's not to like? The past of this obscure subject shows the true magic is itself. Forget wands and spells, magic was and is a kind of natural philosophy called Science.
Where does this obsession stem from? Ancient Greek philosophers, loathing change, sought to bring meaning to the bleak world by
I've never really considered myself good at making friends. Primary school was a blur of short friendships, people I considered friends but rarely saw outside of school. Only one person from primary school stayed my friend through to high school, and was the base cause of me meeting and becoming friends with more people. We had a small group, but normally there was just the three of us, worse if someone was off. But the strength of the bond was far greater, knowing each other better than you pos
Once upon a time I was a little kid. Shocking I know. Anyway, I kept some of the jotters with my stories from the age six to nine and felt the need to share with the world the obscureness of it all. I can't take a photo of them, there's no way you would be able to read it. I will, however, keep the same awful grammar and spelling. So here's a lovely selection.
The Ice Mountins (dated 06/02/02, aged seven)
The talking snowman (dated 06/03/02, aged seven)
Queen for a day (dated 24
Random fact: when I was little, I wanted to be a pirate when I grew up. Anyways. On to the poem.
The eve of time dawned with our ship creaking on the horizon
We are but ghosts on the sea
Poltergeists pillaging the lands
We are your dreams and nightmares altogether
Storm clouds follow us
Time stands still as we enter the battle field
Cannons yearning for use
Our home creaks
Waves crashing upon its solid exterior
Like magpies we advance
Swords glinting in the moonlight
We are monke
Once spoken, a million times heard
Rip the space-time with your ignorance
Through a looking glass
To another universe
So alike, yet so very odd
A butterfly’s wings against my hand
Every choice, every action
A quizillion universes
All of your own
Let your heart beat faster
In the bubbles of infinity
Somewhere, your perfect life
Where do your dreams really die?
Here, in the other universe
One of so many
Is your head spinning
From the choices y
This story was started on this blog months back. People begged me to continue, so I did. You guys only brought this upon yourselves. I'll warn you now, I'm not that happy with the ending. It's weird. I could go on about how I could use this as a metaphor etc. but that would be boring. I'll just let you read it.
The girl stood on the shore, the sand crunching between her toes, a welcome feeling after so long. She turned, letting her dress spin around her. All around her was silence. The gras
This is a poem I wrote. Just about now.
You dream your life away
Wishing you were somewhere else
Living another life
If you could take the pain away, you would
You would push it underground
And try to carry on
Battling through the fears
But your strength is failing you
There are too many secrets to hide
Everything falling around you
A black hole gaping beneath your feet
Heads over heels into the darkness
You’re out of control
The blackness that surrounds you is infinite
As I sat on my bed, putting the sheets on, I pushed the soft toys to one side. I should get rid of them. I wish I could. But each one has a story attached to it, a series of childish memories. There's an odd collection on my bed. Kazina, my leopard. Given to me by my mum after I helped with the photo albums. Nothing important, but I like that leopard. I can distinctly remember yelling and racing after my sister when she took it. In my head, as a child, I would tell everything to my toys as I hug
Yeah. That's right. I'm moving my shit over.
An Ode To A Magikarp
My first original song/poem/thing that I actually like. Wooo.
(This is backwards chronological order btw)
Transition Metal Complexes (parodying the original Pokemon theme)
Alkanes and Alkenes (parodying Stuart and the Ave.)
Paranoid Substitutions (parodying Basket Case)
Know Your NMR (parodying Know Your Enemy, duh)
(Incidentally, I'm also writing a "short" story, but I won't post it
It takes a lot to admit to this. This one basic fact that can sometimes change the decisions I make, the way I go about my day. I'm scared of the dark. I always have been. As a kid, I had a night light for a while, but it didn't really help. I remember running up from the bathroom in the middle of the night, not feeling safe until I was under my covers. I guess everyone has a fear, however small.
My sister would make fun of me if she knew I still let it govern my life. About a year and a hal
Okay, so this entry sort of spawns from a book I'm reading, "Physics of the Impossible", where the author attempts to explain the physics behind popular science fiction and whether or not it is possible. He covers topics such as telepathy, phasers, teleportation and robots. I'm currently reading the chapter on robots, and part of it really got me thinking. (I should point out that by 2020 Moore's Law is likely to collapse as the age of the silicon chip is coming to an end).
Fair enough, you
Friday night was prom night. Oh the excitement. I was picked up at 1pm from my house by my friend and her parents. At her house, her sister did my hair and make up. The hair took almost three hours as she was curling it in small sections. And used half a can of strong hold hairspray, which I swear is still in my hair.
At about 5pm I changed into my dress and put on my jewelry. I own so much jewelry it fills three boxes and lies on my desk, but still the jewelry for prom was either bought or b
Last night was my high school's awards ceremony. I have been once before, and the memory of that night didn't exactly make me look in favour of going again. The man that had been there to give a short speech and hand out the prizes went on for almost an hour. Then we had to sit through most of the awards before I even had to go up, eventually getting a lift home from my friend's parents well after ten o'clock. This time, things were a little different.
It was my last year of high school this
Writing stories is something I've always been good at. To an extent. I can do description well, but my plot always gets messed up. There was a story I wrote when I was about seven, where we had been told to write a story that ends something like "they woke up and it was all a dream". Needless to say, I thought that whole concept sucked. So I wrote a story (that had always intended to end that way) about some kids at a space museum ending up on Mars because of some red dust and having an adventur
Tuesday was my last official day of high school. There's still the dreaded exams, the leavers' lunch and the prom, but it was the last day of "classes" before exam leave. As would be expected, there was a fair amount of hype about it, and the build up to the last day was filled with various discussions as to pranks.
The first prank noticed upon our entrance to the school, and the one I was most interested in, was one guy's attempt to bubble wrap the entire library. We went straight to the lib