With this subject I say each to their own because everybody has their own opinion on when life truly 'stops' or when you feel life 'stops' because you know it can't really stop but we like to think it can and we play that game. For some people life 'stops' only once in their life and they do not know the moment until they are in their death bed reminiscing their time on planet Earth and they think of the time when their life stopped and they didn't give a f*** about anything and they were lost in the moment. For other people you have as many moments where life 'stops' as you want and you know when those moments are when they happen, this is people like me.
The night was 20 November 2010 a cold winters evening standing against a red brick wall of a building in Ardwick, Manchester. I heard the distant sound of a Gibson Les Paul, no mistake, like the harmony scale of a church choir to my ears from the inside of the dark bleak building and somehow I knew it had started. My backside crunched down into the seat and a long connection was made immediately to last the night. Moments and moments passed timeless through my mind and then I once again heard the 'choir' sing once more but this time the reality of it blew me away. My mind went silent and motionless as the beauty of the moment obliterated my senses. The gritty heartfelt voice sung out like flocks of angels to me and the bass-filled rumble of the drums and bass will strum my heart strings for time yet to come...
The beating of my heart took a step back towards normal insanity again on the morning of 21 November 2010 and all memory of the night before will stick in my mind and in my heart as one of the moments when I didn't give a f*** about anything or anyone and, for me, life 'stopped'...
You gotta' have abit'a cheesieness in life, it is essential. Bye.
Sunday, 21 November 2010
Wednesday, 3 November 2010
The Life of a Short Arse
Before any of you ask, yes this post is wholly all about me. Its basically my life and many other people's life but i have just decided to share mine. I have been short-er than everyone else since year 1 when i was he tallest person in my class, yes i do dream of those times often. In year 8 i thought it may be ok to be a little bit shorter than everyone else but then people started towering above me like goliaths and i was little David below them looking up at what could've been, and I thought, well, there is another few years before size 'matters'. In my opinion size 'matters' when you start wanting to 'pull'/get girls and generally the boy is traditionally taller however in my case this is hard to accomplish. I have reached this stage, I'am 15 so I think the age has come don't you? Thanks mum thanks dad (they ain't the tallest people, they can't help it but you get me)!
Some might say (including myself) that i choose the wrong friends, i shall explain, when this growth spurt happened (to everyone but me) alot of people stayed 'small' however the people who grew the most were my closest friends! For example two of my best friend's heights are: 6' 1 and 6' 0! This is not good because it means that I wander around school with what i call GIANTS and this does nothing to help my already dreadful reputation as you can imagine the amount of remarks I get and the worst thing is they are generally from my best friend ( the 6' 0 one!), very pleasent indeed!
There is a few up-sides to being short; I get the cute factor when it somes to girls (The big daddy of up-sides), I can fit in small spaces (sometimes very helpful but sometimes just a nuisance), I can hide behind people effectively in hours of need e.g. if Im being threatened by children 4 years younger than me (we share the same size, they may be slightly taller)), I can fit in a suitcase to travel the world. So yes I can get some good things from being a short arse.
Now its story time.
I was on work experience in june (still 15) and me and my friends decided to go and see the new twilight film (FOR THEM NOT ME!). It was a 12 so i knew i would have no problem getting in as i was sure I did not look 12, 13 1/2 at the least. So I walked in and stood in the queue for an uncomfortable amount of time as usually happens in these situations but we eventually reached the counter and the dreaded question was asked and the following dialogue took place:
Desk person: How old are you?
Me: erm.. 15
DP: Haha, its only a 12 you don't have to lie! (Giggles to themself in a jokey, high pitched fashion)
Me: No but I am 15.
DP: I don't think so love i'll charge you for the 12 - 14 ticket, 4.50 please?
Me: No really I'm 15 you can charge me for that ticket please.
.......
So there you are I ended up arguing to be charged more so my self esteem will be kept at a still low level. How stupid did I look? Very! It was not cool because I was out of pocket 50p and my self esteem was lowered as all my friends never let me forget it and I always remember that very demeening day, hence why I'am broadcasting it to you lovely people! Thank you for listening to my life story. Stay golden, roll with me soon ye?
Bye.
Some might say (including myself) that i choose the wrong friends, i shall explain, when this growth spurt happened (to everyone but me) alot of people stayed 'small' however the people who grew the most were my closest friends! For example two of my best friend's heights are: 6' 1 and 6' 0! This is not good because it means that I wander around school with what i call GIANTS and this does nothing to help my already dreadful reputation as you can imagine the amount of remarks I get and the worst thing is they are generally from my best friend ( the 6' 0 one!), very pleasent indeed!
There is a few up-sides to being short; I get the cute factor when it somes to girls (The big daddy of up-sides), I can fit in small spaces (sometimes very helpful but sometimes just a nuisance), I can hide behind people effectively in hours of need e.g. if Im being threatened by children 4 years younger than me (we share the same size, they may be slightly taller)), I can fit in a suitcase to travel the world. So yes I can get some good things from being a short arse.
Now its story time.
I was on work experience in june (still 15) and me and my friends decided to go and see the new twilight film (FOR THEM NOT ME!). It was a 12 so i knew i would have no problem getting in as i was sure I did not look 12, 13 1/2 at the least. So I walked in and stood in the queue for an uncomfortable amount of time as usually happens in these situations but we eventually reached the counter and the dreaded question was asked and the following dialogue took place:
Desk person: How old are you?
Me: erm.. 15
DP: Haha, its only a 12 you don't have to lie! (Giggles to themself in a jokey, high pitched fashion)
Me: No but I am 15.
DP: I don't think so love i'll charge you for the 12 - 14 ticket, 4.50 please?
Me: No really I'm 15 you can charge me for that ticket please.
.......
So there you are I ended up arguing to be charged more so my self esteem will be kept at a still low level. How stupid did I look? Very! It was not cool because I was out of pocket 50p and my self esteem was lowered as all my friends never let me forget it and I always remember that very demeening day, hence why I'am broadcasting it to you lovely people! Thank you for listening to my life story. Stay golden, roll with me soon ye?
Bye.
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