Something magical

I posted something magical to SuperPennie.com. I'd love for you to go investigate =]

Not talking

A friend just sent me to: Why shoddy writing is better than good writing by Claire Creffield. His intention was to hurry me up and encourage me to blog something, so here I go:

During an emotional crisis, not talking seems like the best idea. The more you talk about something, the more you are thinking about something and the more that something is going to get to you. So I try to avoid talking about things that make me cry.

The only problem with this technique however, is that it is normally something that I probably need to talk about.

So, where do you find the balance?

If you start talking about these things that you know in your gut you shouldn't talk about, then start getting over emotional, you look like a fool. This is only going to make things worse, because I can guarantee that more often then not, you are going to tell the person that you really shouldn't be telling and looking like a fool in front of the person you really want to think highly of you.

So, what do you do?

Well, as it stands, I have absolutely no idea. I think it's about trying really hard to not feel anything, then you can talk about it and it doesn't matter. But even better than that: it just doesn't matter.

I used to be in a constant state of it-just-doesn't-matter a while back. Some of you may remember way back when, when I first started this blog. I named it A Broken Nihilist on purpose. Dissect at point. Then something happened. In amongst the general rubbish that life throws at you, I caught something special.

Happy works like dominos.

Once you start getting happy, suddenly you look around you and everything is fabulous. You see rainbows on cloudy days and find change lying around. You believe that everything is going to be ok and that the world is actually alright. That things always work out how they are supposed to.

You start to believe things you once thought were ridiculous. You start to believe in love. You become that bubbling pot of rainbow juice.

The problem with this new happy-clappy-loved-up-flappy state is that you are vulnerable. The most vulnerable you have ever been. You get paranoid. You become terrified that something is going to shake the boat. Then before you know it you are right back at self-destruct. Right where you started - and you have no idea how to not be. You realise that within the nothingness of before, you were safe. You realise that pleasure brings pain. You wish more than anything that you can just go back, go back to feeling nothing. You try to convince yourself it's possible.

But your efforts are wasted. Inside you can still hear that happy-clappy voice telling you to keep going. Telling you the pleasure is worth the pain. Telling you things will work out and to be strong.

So the internal conflict leaves you bouncing between paralysis and mania. And you sit and wonder what you are supposed to do to make everything alright. You sit alone, like before, and try to focus. Because when you focus you are amazing. And you know you are going to make it, but you don't want to have to do it alone.

But I guess life is full of ups and downs and it's just part of growing up to learn how to deal with both. However the number of midlife crisis' and such leads me to believe that an awful lot of people never figure it out.

I look forward to hearing your thoughts on the matter.

Positive thinking

I just spent half an hour talking to Jehovah Witnesses at my door, discussing how you should just enjoy everyday. How there is no way of knowing if there is a god or not, so you should just embrace life. Because if this is all there is, why waste it hoping that what happens next is better?

I didn't change their opinion and they didn't change mine, but for 30 minutes I was me again. I was happy and positive.

This week has been pretty shit, but I'm ok. Nothing is ever as bad as you think it is and there are always people who have it worse, so why be upset about anything?

Last Friday (not yesterday) I graduated PMA. I now have a postgrad. Pow. The nine weeks leading up to that day where amazing, I learnt so much and grew up an awful lot. A concept that has always scared the shit out me, but I'm accepting it. I'm a better person for it. Everyday.

We created a trade magazine called Festival Business, which is incredible. Check out our website (which will hopefully be better soon): www.festivalbusiness.co.uk

Next step is finding a job on a magazine. I have been applying all week to different publications, trying to master the art of the cover letter. Journalism makes me so excitable and the thought of spending the rest of my life in the game is simply perfect. The PMA folk reckon we should all be employed in no time, so I'm not too worried. I'll just keep pushing forwards, 'cause determination is something I have heaps of.

A couple of days ago I decided I needed an adventure, so I will be going on a Mount Kilimanjaro trek in February to raise money for the Alzheimer's Society. I chose to help them as my dad has Alzheimer's and I can see what it does. It makes you feel helpless, as if there is nothing you can do to make a difference. So I'm going to try, even if I'm just helping people in the future.

I have yet to register for this adventure as I need £400, of which I have zero pounds. But I'll get it. Then I will raise at least £4k and get fit enough not to die. It's exciting. I've never been on a trek before, so I should probably have picked somewhere easier for my first attempt, but heck, I've never been one to do things by halves.

With days filled with nothing but free time at the moment, I am keeping busy, but this should mean my blog should start getting more attention again. I've missed you!

SP

In Response to 'On Wearing Less'

This is a response to my friend from Philosophia. Read his post On Wearing Less here.


I think there is something in the idea that nudity is treated as something to be ashamed of. As if the human form is some embarrassment to bare. By covering up and hiding bare skin from innocent eyes, a culture of shame is formed convincing people that there is something wrong with their bodies; something wrong with the bodies of other people. It is as though people shouldn't be comfortable in their own skin, that they need to hide behind their protective wall.


The idea of a carpet of shame and embarrassment around the human form isn't universal. This means it can't be something inbuilt in human beings but rather something created by our culture. If you look at tribal type communities, inhabitants wear minimal clothing. Women have their breasts out and nobody bats an eyelid. 


Where has this come from? Why has society created taboo's around the subject. I'm not saying people should all walk around naked or anything, simply that nudity has certain connotations. It's seedy and dark, holding a negative banner over head, drawing in negativity. The only nudity we are offered is in a perverted form; think of boys mags for example. This perverted idea surrounding nudity forces people to think of it only as perverse rather than the simple state of nature that it is. We are animals. Like animals, we shouldn't be ashamed of ourselves and feel the need to hide. We shouldn't look upon the bodies of others and judge them. 


I can't imagine a dog walking round in a pair of trousers looking down on the dog going commando... 


By only being given an airbrushed picture of perfect naked bodies we are convinced that we ourselves are flawed. That our imperfections make us ugly and we should hide our bodies away unless we can match such beauty. We are regulated by taboo and made to feel bad about ourselves and look down on others. In America everything is even more regulated than it is over here, but it's all the same thing. It has reached the point where something as natural as breastfeeding is condemned as a private activity that should be hidden behind closed doors. 


I'm not calling for a revolution. This isn't me saying, let's all walk around starkers. This is me saying we don't need to be embarrassed of being human. We all have skin. We do all look different, but only to a degree. By trying to prevent prudence and hide from shame, a culture of shame was born. 


Gok has something good going with How To Look Good Naked showing people they can be comfortable in themselves. 
This may be not so much a response to William than inspired by his post. A branch from the same tree so to speak. Let me know what you guys think on the topic and also go check out William's blog =] 

Human Leather

I came across a website selling products made from human skin thanks to the wonders of Facebook. Initially you think it has to be a joke, right? People aren't walking around wearing dead people, are they? But there are an elite few "who have everything they could possibly desire" and this company has snapped up their need to stand out and show off their wealth. They've given them something to spend their money on that very few people will have. Products sourced from the skin other people.

You can get your hands on a Human Leather Wallet from €9,000 (USD$14,000 approx) or if you're really splashing out, why not grab a pair of shoes from €18,000 (USD$27,000 approx)? Roll up, roll up, fresh out the morgue...

Obviously my initial response to this is "gross! What's wrong with people?" How is it someone has so much money that they don't know what to do with that they're willing to walk around in some dead guys back? 

Then I began to wonder how they got hold of the dead people to use their skin in the first place, so I had a nose around the website. Apparently people "bequeathed their skin" to the company before they died. The families of the "donors" are apparently rewarded very handsomely, which I imagine means a big pay off. Surely something like this opens doors to killing off sick or unwanted family members for the "reward". It's like the whole organ donor argument as to whether they should be sold rather than donated. If people need money, what's stopping them from killing off people to sell their skin or heart or lungs?

But then there's the other side... poor people can make money out of their dead relatives. If they're dying anyway, it's not hurting anyone to take money from the very strange rich people wanting to turn them into belts and shoes... though it is somewhat disrespectful. Just like, if someone has good organs and their family has no money, you may as well sell them to save a few peoples lives as well as your families when you die. Surely we'd get a whole lot more organ donations if they were getting something out of it. People find the idea of their body being chopped up and spread between the bodies of other people creepy, but if they could help their families out they'd probably be more willing to save a few lives. Most of the time nobody cares about helping anyone if they can't get anything out of it. 

For the record, I'm pretty sure I'm an organ donor and I'm not expecting monies out of it. 

Of course, lives are saved through organ donation whereas all that's happening with skin donations is rich people get to feel like they're some sort of elite. Next step is stuffed human heads above the mantle piece in between the deer heads... 

But why is wearing a person so different from wearing any other animal? What is it about human leather that makes us go "ew"? I imagine it's the same sort of notion as cannibalism. It's turning on one's own kind. It's this bright light illuminating the fact that nobody is safe. When someone is sat at a table eating a chicken, nobody thinks anything of it, because it's a chicken. But if they were eating your uncle that would be a different story. We have connections to other people. I imagine if someone was eating you dog you'd be pretty upset too. It's the emotional connections we have with things that stops us from thinking it's ok. From being able to stand objectively and say, it's just food and I need to eat. Or it's just shoes and I wanna protect my feet. 

I'd love to hear your thoughts on the matter. Both on human product as well as organ donation.