So here begins a gin induced rant/rave/what you will..
I have spent a long week pondering not only my own existence but that of the others in this world and the very fabric of being and so forth I am still bamboozled.
So I work in a ridiculous place. A place of silliness and but where silliness is somewhat forbidden or at least frowned upon as is individuality or even the thought of it crossing one's mind. A scary place where the likes of mundane things like Strictly Come Fuck Me Up The Arse Live On TV And Let People Vote For the Best Cum Shot are um well not the topic of choice but strictly come something or other are. Anyway, So my bemoaning of the day would be the exquisite amount of chaos mundane activities can have on the singular and small minded.
I shall tell you a story perchance, one of nonsense and lack of imagination. Your brave heroine waits, forlorn upon a desk of solitude and despair. I sit, and stare uponst the screen of information of fat of the land, the ones who've got rich of being rich and fictitious, They have achieved things unbeknownst to others. So, here or there I sat, upon the fate of my own conclusions, a temporary fate but a current one at that, To forget about the perils one has faced during the day boarded up in a cell of my own devising I ventured to the outside world, a world of light and magpies that sit upon the train tracks and flit about at their own accord, somewhat aptly considering they sit outside banks waiting for shiny things to appear but I've always given them more credit than that, they're not waiting they're just mocking. Your humble heroine stretches her limbs, reclines upon a soft factory themed chair of discontent and swivels towards the light anxious to break free of the invisible constraints holding her to a computer. So she sits and stares at the paper, at the sky at the silly thoughts of pretension and loneliness and thoughts of a silly and nostalgic nature. Sprawled some might say, upon a bench in the sun and air. This dear Reader is what caused such havoc. Everybody had some kind of opinion on the notion of a 22year old sat upon a bench in her lunch hour, giving herself a splinter in her thigh found at later notice, and thinking about lost things and madness and listening to Beach House. Could there be anything perhaps more renegade? How utterly rebellious. Sitting. outside!
So if you ring up a bank and ponder the notion of their own existence and why they feel the need to incessantly cause havoc amidst your finances, which incidentally people of Britain you need to take SOME responsibility for and use common sense, just be thankful they don't go into every intricate detail of your life and just ask you silly questions on the phone. I get the same joke everytime, "So sir or madam or generic tosser is there anything else I can do for you in this time of recessional need and necessity for happiness inducing impulse purchases of yachts?" "oh haha, yes, if you wouldn't mind transferring some more money into my account.. what what".
no
it's not funny anymore seriously. I have done what one could say a sufficiently passable actors career for about 7 months now.
Without the promise of Newcomer oscar nominations and Golden Globes.
I have been in the process of writing a thesis on the banal. A banalis if you will. Commenting on the people I have met and the silliness encountered.
But tonight as I sit in my house, singing along to some Nancy Sinatra eminating from the Tarantino film upon the telly drinking a small gin Mojito, a new invention of my own devising with a little Cuban help, I ponder not only things that I have lost and might find confusing, things I long to write about but can't quite bring myself to. I would rather think about the exciting new array of music I've been listening to all week.
mostly, Beach House's new album Teen Dream.http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=90ipyWYO3LM
A rather exquisitely beautiful ponderage upon the nature of the teenage and human condition. It makes my heart all fluttering to listen to something quite so pretty and think about things gone by and things to come. I feel contented for once, and somehow I'm too scared to jinx that with words of wisdom and depth.
So back to the music. I have listened non stop to Zebra, and cannot imagine a more amazing song about a stripy horse. It just makes me tear up for some reason Don't I know you better than the rest.... and makes me pine for the plains of the savannah where they may roam for all I know.
I"m yet to listen to an amazing looking cd of B-Horror movie soundtracks but if it's anything along the lines of Tarantinotasticness then I am all ears. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JOofloefrEw
or the film for that matter. I've started searching for more music that sounds like it could be from a Western, excellently exemplified by Kill Bill.http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YZoQ_E8GHsk I've listened to much Dan Sartain, though I'm stil caught up on finding something more original and exiting souding. but then again maybe it's not meant to sound original.. just like a lot of fucked mariachi men on a bender with some knives, a Hatori Hanzo sword and snazzy yellow catsuit.
I do believe I may be losing my train of thought but I'd also like to ponder upon the excellence that is Jesus and Mary Chain. Everytime it has rained recently, Happy when it rains comes on my ipod, the ipod that normally likes to emotionally torture me with meaningful songs that I read into far too much.
But the shoegaze happiness is somewhat infectious..and I'm aware that sounds like a massive oxymoron but I find it quite happy in a bitter way. They've loved and lost and now don't give a shit about them. It's somewhat cathartic walking towards work listening to them loudly. I've made a habit of putting on an angry or loud song to walk the pathway up to work to. I have said before I often put journeys to music and perhaps feel like I live in some kind of music video, listening to Human League in the toilet and Wolf Like Me strutting towards the front entrance in front of everyone and I suppose I should just reiterate that I am so fucking glad I'm considered an oddity.
So I've mostly been making tshirts for people's birthday presents and planning a painting of some variety though I also bought two incredible paintings of lovers and the wedded couple at a flea market on Lark Lane.
a mess.
birthday cards at the expense of the work stationary cupboard.
my fringe
I am planning on how to become more like a Tarantino heroine without having to kill people. I already have the right lipstick and fringe.. I just need more witty catchphrases.
Watching Kill Bill, Skins finale (tragically having to admit my crushes on all the boys and naomi and Emily. sigh.. being a teenager in Bristol was not that exciting unless I have forgotten it all due to massive amounts of it.)
listening to .... Beach House-Zebra!!!! (and watching the sky whilst listening to it at the same time seeing the clouds form a zebra across the sky.. was beautiful) The Understudies Chip Pan Glam, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=el7FU8boKWk this is actually from Indietracks Where I was I'm not sure If I got round to seeing them but I was sat at one point in that small chapel of love..
Ray Rumours and the No-Eye Deers Puddles and Rain Which is an incredible song.. I shall try and put it on the blog if I can figure it out..http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-msNd8wg-j4 again this is not the same song but I kept finding videos for actual islands..
and One Happy Island's Texas Toast a loving tribute to drunken eating and plastic jewellery purchases (the texas version of drunk shopping in the 24hr Asda down the road)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2CBJj2yhFyo this is not the same song just the only one I could find by him (who I also swore was a woman but is so gorgeous and frail sounding)
smelling the springy yummy air of frivolity
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G5x1F9ohRa4
I promise the next post will be somewhat more cohesive. Sorry.
xxxxxx
