There Goes The Fear

Here it comes again. Waves of negative thoughts crashing over me like a sea heavy with oil. Slowly leaving a thick sediment of regret and a residue of dispare on my skin. I lay on the floor all day staring at the ceiling, sometimes I’d stare at the phone ringing. Unable to move,  the only indication that time was moving was the slowly changing light in my room. I eventually got up off the floor and took sanctuary here. No one can see me. No one can see my unkempt manner or dress.

I will remain here. In this room until the feeling passes. Next door is the loft space – wooden timbers stretch across, the perfect place to attatch a noose. Not that I’d do that – it just amazes me how I muse about such things with indifference. Much like a man choosing shoes, I ponder what would be the best method to snuff it.

Back!

Just a quick note to say I am back and I’m taking a break from London for a bit to visit my folks, hence my absence. I shall return however and answer the comments left… just got a bit of a rush on at the moment

Over n Out!

Second hardest thing I have ever done

I told my parents I was a manic depressive (hate the other term) last night. I’ve known for years, they have never known. Strangest thing about it was they knew they just needed it in confirmation.

Today has been a strange day. The clocks go back.

Do I tell other people… my friends etc? I Do not know. I feel like I have a disability if I do. I may go somewhere and retreat from things for a bit. I don’t know.

Kaaba

I’d love to go and see this. Purely for selfish reasons… to take photographs! There’s also something deeply spiritual about it even on the TV. I don’t know if this is because everyone knows it as the Mecca , or the monolith does have some kind of ‘auroa’. Some places do, I know you probably think that is hippy rubbish, but I honestly do! Take a trip to Stonehenge or Holy Island and tell me you don’t ‘feel’ anything in the atmosphere.

Which reminsd me… in this hostile anti-Muslim climate, we in the west are really quite ignorant of what Islam has brought to us. Also we have adopted parts of Islam in our own sicken capitalist way. Mecca Bingo anyone? I have heard that the Black Stone of Kaaba was once a pure white; has it turned black because of the sins it has absorbed over the years?

I went out in Brixton last night, to Jamm. Had a good night, even if some mad woman did stick her hands down my pants, call me a silly white boy then give me a big kiss. I was petrified, she was very scary!!

South Bank, Street Photography

I love the South Bank in London. It said to be the unofficial home of British street skateboarding. The sheltered section beneath the Queen Elizabeth Hall has provided the skateboarding community of Britain and international skaters alike with ideal banks and stairs since the 1970s, and one of the best parts for me is that it makes a great place to take photographs! As I love Street Photography!

I often get asked “what the hell is street photography, photos taken on the street?”. Well yeah, it is if you boil it down but it is more a documentry style of photography. There is no premeditated thought or agenda behind it. Instead it aims to capture a single human moment that transcends all cultures, and it is something we can all relate to: a decisive or poignant moment. In this case a kid looking on in awe of two graffiti artists.

It isn’t easy, well insofar as you can wander around London all day and not come across one truely good shot or miss an opportune moment as you struggle to get your camera out with out being noticed.

Classic practitioners of street photography include Henri Cartier-Bresson, Robert Frank, Alfred Eisenstaedt, W. Eugene Smith, William Eggleston, and Garry Winogrand.

Dr David Kelly

Dr David Kelly was murdered by the British Government for revealing that there was no WMD in Iraq. If he was allowed to speak out the truth we may never of gone to war.You can read more about the death of David Kelly on MP Norman Baker’s website:

The weeks leading up to Dr Kelly’s death in 2003 had been charged and eventful. In mid-March, British and American forces had invaded Iraq, despite more than a million people marching through the streets of London to oppose military action just a month earlier. Saddam Hussein was deposed and on May 1st, President Bush declared “mission accomplished”, a claim that rings rather hollow now.

Then came the allegations, broadcast by the BBC, that the intelligence information about Iraq, which in an unprecedented move the UK government had decided to release, had been “sexed up” to make the case for war stronger, particularly with the assertion that Saddam had weapons ready to fire within 45 minutes.

I tried to embed a video of ‘Harrowdown Hill’ by Thom Yorke which expresses some of his feelings on the matter, but it won’t show up?! :confused:

Talking Horses

One of the problems of being out of work is you develop a reversed sleeping pattern. In a way that isn’t such a bad thing as you’re not forced to endure daytime TV, but it does lead to all sorts of problems with sleep. At the moment I’m going through a bit of an insomnia spell, partly caused by excess ‘fun’ on Saturday night in Brixton, and lying in bed all day on Sunday recovering.

I Also seem to be having really strange dreams at the moment. I often have strange dreams but these are almost recurring (odd dreams that is, not a singular dream, although I do go through spells of having recurring dreams) . My latest dream is one of the most bizarre for good few weeks and it went a little like this, if anyone can shed any light on what the hell any of it means, I’d be grateful.

The Dream:

I found myself in my parents old house, the house of my childhood and it was on fire. Not wanting to succumb to the flames I ran outside, but as soon as I opened the door I was confronted with a large dark horse which ran at me. I shit myself and closed the door in fear and went back into the flames. Yet I knew I had to get out, so I went to the other door and tried that way. Sure enough the horse was still there, and it was still raining. This time however, rather than running at me the horse spoke. I do not know what it said, but it spoke. It then handed me some papers announcing it was a pedigree?! After looking at the papers, I looked back at the horse, and there was a strange, but slightly familiar man standing next to the horse in the rain. He worse glasses, a flat gap and a long beige trench coat. For some reason I think he was a builder.

Odd eh? I have my own theories on this. I recently fell out with the girl I love enormously, and I don’t think I will love anyone as much as her again, or find anyone like that. She is, was rather, everything to me – my reason for going on and getting up each day. She may not of been my girlfriend but we did have ‘moments’ together more than once, and she has always been there for me over the past few years. However I went and acted like a jealous fucking prick the other night and tore it all apart. She now hates me and it is tearing me apart. I only acted like a jealous prick because of what she has told me in the past, and others have told me, I witnessed first hand how she was treated; fists in the face and all sorts.

So I went out on the weekend and had an alcohol and ketamine fueled bender, and then spent much of Sunday, Monday and Today holding back tears and smiling. I love life. There’s just so much shit to deal with I don’t know if I have the strength with out her. She made it worth while.  Not saying I am going to take my own life, just saying my life is going to be shit with out her in it.

Anyway… what do you reckon that dream is all about?

Gainful Employment?

Not really sure why I thought I’d start another blog. I used to have one that became quite popular a few years ago – well people left comments anyway. Then I became bored of it – once I realised that nothing interesting in my life really happens to me. Well that was about three years ago. Now that is quite different. Christ if I could be arsed to write down the last four years of my life, I think I’d either crack up, kill myself or wonder what all the fuss is about. So I’ll try and not reminisce about my past – too much, apart from the good times of which there were many… usually, in fact no, always shared with one girl.

Right now that’s out of the road, I’ll start writing some stuff.

At the moment I am unemployed and squatting in London. It is a bit shit as I have no income and can’t sign on for various things, so I spend each week day looking for work. This is depressing as fuck, especially when you get knocked back for a shit reason. Such as being too experienced for a roll, overly qualified – what a cunt!!! That is rare though, more often than not don’t get a job because, well… I’m either not good enough or they can smell my contempt for middle Britain and the bourgeois. Yes! I am a class traitor and they can smell it a fucking mile off.

It would be easy to fit in though. All I have to do is dress like every other fucking white middle class male in the city. Drive a Ford Mondeo, believe the government is infallible, bury my head in the sand about the shit state of world and bow down to capitalist bosses who exploit those below them. That is the problem though… my curse is never to submit to the machine and become part of the wheel. Where does this leave me? Out of work and ’scum’ in the eyes of modern society. That beats you up from the inside. Well I apparently have manic depression according to one doctor, but fuck that – if I accept that I have manic depression I’ll only use it as an excuse to sit on top of a church spire and shoot yuppies.

So I guess this blog is going to be a journey of my quest to get a job that is within my own ethics.. and I will do it eventually.

Oh, if anyone is looking for a photographer, photoeditor or photoshop monkey, give us a shout. I’m good at that!