Eye's Wide Shut

Though there has been much of a transformation in my outlook and behaviour this year, I have far from reached my goal. My goal being the place I would most like to be of course. I still find myself falling into the same traps and missing the same sign posts I've failed to avoid for a while. But the other day offered me a wake up call. From another one of my own mistakes I was able to truly see why I need to move forward and let go of certain chains that have held me down for so long.

But how? How does one walk away from their comfort zone and step out into the real world? To start taking responsibility and taking all ones chances rather than letting opportunities fly by?

I imagine to one extent or another, everyone has been in a similar situation. Perhaps you are so used to a person you can't recognise their actions as being negative or inappropriate; perhaps you are so frightened of the world you are quick to retreat back into yourself and your world of fantasy. There are a million different scenarios you could find yourself in, that leave you lost or broken.

I can't pretend to be able to help anyone achieve anything. I'm still young and don't know much. I can't imagine I'll ever know much, perhaps just learn how best to deal with a lack of true knowledge. Or how best to deal with the superficial knowledge we are accustomed to. But this isn't a philosophical blog about the nature of knowledge and our ability to possess it... I'm sure many of you already know where I more or less stand on the matter. This is about a community helping each other.

I like to think that my regular followers can come together through their comments to share some advice with one another. I have come to realise the only way to save yourself from a bad situation, is to find something to hold onto that makes you want to stay clear of the darkness. But finding something to hold onto isn't enough. You can't climb from the darkness for someone or something else, because if that thing or person were to ever disappear you would fall straight back down. You need to do it for you. You need to truly want to see the light and have that happy fuzzy feeling when you wake up. You have to want your health. You have to want to achieve something. Having something to aim for makes it easier; set's your focus.

I would love to hear back from you lot! How do you pick yourselves up when you're down? How do you keep yourselves from falling back?

Underground Challenge: July 5th Recap

Inspire a Stranger Day was on Monday! I apologise for not getting this up Monday night, but by the time we got in I was knackered. So this is an apology from two fronts, one for being slow and two for already failing to keep to my schedule. I have to admit, I saw that coming. But I will be sure to write at least two posts a week, just maybe not on strict days.

Anyway, staying on topic...

Monday was fantastic! A group of us went around London (mainly on the tube but the streets got some attention too) sparking up conversation with hundreds of commuters throughout the day. Four of us donned plain white tee's with 'Underground Challenge' and 'Inspire a Stranger' drawn on the fronts and backs. We had a basket filled with sweets to hand out to people as well as passing around cards saying things like "don't forget to smile" and "you're beautiful".

We also had a poet in our group handing out his poetry in envelopes to people. Peter started the day quite shy but as time went on we noticed a change in him which was nice, as he grew in confidence! 

Most people were confused by us and kept trying to offer us money. I imagine if we accepted half the money we were offered we would have made back the groups train fare to London! Lots of people smiled with us and had a chat about how great they thought the idea was and how we brightened up there day. Some people pretended we didn't exist. 

On the way back to Paddington Station I sat down next to a man with a newspaper. It was quitting time, we were tired. I decided to offer him a sweet anyway and we ended up talking all the way to my stop. He started off by not wanting a sweet but he did take a "smile" card which he promised to put on his desk at work the next day. He was telling me all the reasons people like the silence on the Underground and why Londoners don't talk to each other; a lot of which I could understand and agree with. But he kept talking to me, even though I was willing to sit back and let him read his paper! I think he was intrigued by the whole idea and kept asking questions and telling us that up North people talk to each other all the time. Finally, he took a sweet. I call that a victory. 

In fact, the whole day was a victory!

We lost Danni and Jake on the tube as we jumped off and the doors closed before they made it. The carriage was full of school kids. Apparently they ate the rest of Danni's brownies! One kid saw "free hugs" written on the back of her tee and asked for one. Next thing she knows ALL of the little kids are hugging her! I wish we could have seen it! Better yet I wish Jake had a camera on him so we could all see it!

We got a few pictures through out the day but not too many. Peter had a camera but had to leave us for work so I was left using my phone. Nokia's are known for the camera skills... But here is an example of a happy commuter being fed =p

Quite a few people let us take pictures with them smiling away =] If you'd like to see those, head over to the Facebook Group!

You can also see a couple of photos other people took to show their contribution to the day! 

Such as:

All the way from Porto, Portugal! 

Hopefully other photos and videos come in so we can see what everyone else got up to! If you guys did anything on Monday and took a picture, please share it with us!

THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO TOOK PART! IT WAS AN AMAZING DAY AND I LOOK FORWARD TO THE NEXT ONE!

Underground Challenge: July 5th

Monday is our Inspire a Stranger day! This is what we've been preparing for. Cards have been handed out and left all over the place, videos have been made, pictures have been taken. Here comes the moment we've all been working so hard for. I hope to see lots of people taking part on the day, taking pictures or videos of themselves playing along so we've got some sort of documentation of our first run. The next one will be bigger and better of course, but we do already have over a thousand people involved via Facebook, plus anyone not on Facebook who we've spoken to and roped in.

This week has been push week so we've been promoting the challenge wherever we can. Hopefully get some media attention if we can. I want to see pictures and videos from you lot showing me what you got up to on the day! This is a community project, a world wide community. And where better than to share it, than the world wide web. The interweb is our portal; for everything. Let's make a change and most importantly let's have fun! Don't forget to smile!

The Underground Challenge: Part 5

We're putting together a video to gain some exposure for The Underground Challenge! 


You should all know all about it by now, but if not be sure to click that link and get involved! 


If you want to get involved in the video send us a clip or a photo of you and/or your mates. We're looking for a variety of things so be creative!!
Need an idea?? How about:

Holding a sign saying something along the lines of 'underground challenge' or 'get involved' or 'smile' or something...

Being creative on some form of public transport.

Out and about on the streets.

Your grandparents.

Your pets. 


Trying to get as many artists/musicians as we can involved too... obviously we'd put your name and myspace or whatever with the video!

The deadline for this is THIS Saturday 15th. I know it's not long, but we wanna make the vid as soon as we can and get it out there! 


When you've put together some gold to share with us and inspire someone, email it over to me at UGChallenge@gmail.com

British Politics

It's all a bit of a mess really, isn't it? Democracy isn't something we quite have our heads around and organisation is something we fail at. Following rules isn't something we're very good at either and those with power tend to make it all up as they go along. To anyone who doesn't know, yesterday was the day Britain attempted to vote for a government. Some people were sent the wrong polling cards. Some were sent away and told to come back later. Students in some places were put into a slow line whilst everyone else was fast tracked. Some places ran out of voting slips. I'm sure there were other signs of us crumbling to this failed attempt at change, but I can't remember and I'm in a rush so not going to look them up.

This is just a short post to voice my disappointment I guess.

I was thinking about all the tactical voting that goes on and how a lot of the time people vote for someone they doesn't want just so someone they want less don't win. People see voting for smaller parties as wasted votes. And some people don't even bother getting up to vote at all. This is all very disappointing. I think the polls leading up to the election are a bad idea. They give people an idea of how to go about voting tactically because they can see what things look like. Perhaps if these didn't exist, tactical voting would lessen and more people would vote for who they really want to see running things. Maybe the smaller parties would have a chance instead of it always being between the reds and the blues.

So now we're looking at a hung parliament and everyone is throwing in their two cents about what it all means. I don't know nearly enough about anything to really talk politics at you, so I'm not going to. Just sharing an observation that was grating at me a bit.

We have 5 years to discover what all this really means. Hopefully next time round we are all at least given the chance to actually vote.
You can see the full results here.

I hear the Torys and Lib Dems are going to maybe join forces to govern. Who knows, maybe this will actually work...

Goodbye Safety Net; Hello World

I have one month left; one. That's a month of exams that I am underprepared for and terrified of sitting. That's one month of living off a student loan and being an unemployed student. That's one month to determine where my world goes next.

Needless to say, I'm somewhat scared about having to take on the role of 'grown up'. Life is just a series of playing different parts; taking on new personas. We're all on some sort of journey in the process and I guess everyone takes their own, but I feel like mine is about finding out who I am and what it means to be. Not what it is to be me, but to be. Period.

Everyone has goals in mind for what they want their lives to be - or what they think it should be. Theres the capitalist ideology of getting a big house, full of nice things and all the bling to let everyone know you made it. But this has most people falling into debt to try to secure. There's the got-to-have-a-family ideology, where people end up settling too soon. There are people trying to find love or God or excitement. Everyone has something they are after. There's a link to most of them though; happiness. 

People think happiness is the goal. They're trying to achieve things they think will make them happy. The only problem is, most of the time as soon as we hit our target we soon discover it wasn't good enough; we need to aim higher. We're a greedy species really. Though maybe that's not completely true. Some people find contentment despite the pressures of their surrounding societies. That's what I'm after; contentment. Fuck knows where you find it though.

So here I stand, approaching the end of university and now I have some decisions to make. I need to work out what is 'best' for me. Which direction it is I 'need' to take. Which goals I need to aim for. But how can I possibly know what it is I need to do to understand life? All I want is some sort of understanding; some wisdom. And I know that as it stands I don't know anything. The more I understand, the more I realise I don't know a thing. This understanding is depressing. But even so, I'd rather know than be blissfully unaware, as I once was. As much as I hate the nausea I still feel as though I'm better for having got this far. 

Part of me wants to just believe something, even if it's the wrong 'something'. It's the part of me that thinks I wont ever really know anything but so long as I believe something, I'll find a contentment in my discovery. Only the rest of me thinks believing the wrong thing is worse than not believing in anything and I should put up with the nausea until it can be properly over come. 

So I'm at a loss. 

But I will read. And explore. And hopefully understand a little more everyday - both about myself but also about everyone else. About being and existence and life and death and maybe on this journey I'll just discover that I've been wasting my time looking for the wrong thing, but at least I'd have been looking. 

I started reading a book today. I was stood at the train station with a half hour wait until my train arrives plus a two and a half hour journey back home so stood in front of the books in Smiths scanning. Out of the corner of my eye was a bright blue one with clouds on it. At this moment I decided that would be the book. Before knowing anything about it - before even reading the title. Maybe that's a stupid way to pick books, but heck it worked out well. 

It's called Hector and the Search For Happiness. It's written like a kids book but it's a grown up theme. It's definitely a PennieBook. It even starts 'Once upon a time...' 

I'm just over half way through by the time I get home and I'm loving it. I'll share whatever I learn with you when I finish it. 

The internet where I am has been rubbish - so by the time I've posted this it's technically tomorrow... 

The Underground Challenge: Part 3

Hey hey!

So I've made the group on Facebook. Everyone join up!

http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=111209162246211

Invite everyone along!

It would be amazing if we could get as many people involved as possible!

Real blog post up soon =]

The Underground Challenge: Part 2

I started writing about my evenings of essays; tedious battles with Marx, Aristotle, Plato and Socrates whilst putting off sleep to maximise productivity. But I figured me winging about university isn't all that interesting to anybody. The only reason I felt like sharing was because I was proud of myself for staying focused and stuff.

So, let's move on...

My last blog post (the one about the girl on the underground) sparked conversation with a bunch of different friends. One friend was made irate by a rude woman on the tube, which led to her suggesting I cover the underground with posters that teach Londoners how to be polite. This actually sounds like a promising project. I'll work out the logistics and document it if I decide to do it. It could be a pretty cool art project, maybe even convince a few moody London types to perk up a bit.

Oh gosh!

I think my sister actually did this when she was at art school! She made that glue-paste gunk, as in the kind you use to paper mache things (you know, like when you'd blow up a balloon and paper mache the outside before popping the balloon and hollowing it out, remember? Then you'd paint it or something and feel all arty 'cause you were making a mess...) and used it to paste A4 pieces of paper with things like "smile"printed on them all over the place. I think she may well have got in trouble for fly posting! However, this was years ago, so my memories might be wobbly...Confirmation is in order. Also, I'm pretty sure she carried a video camera around with her to film commuters reactions to her holding up signs. If this really happened and I'm not just making up memories, I think that's a little bit amazing.

I will ask her.

Another suggestion following that blog came from the lovely girlfriend who decided we should create a Facebook event, where just for the day, Londoners talk to each other on public transport instead of sitting in the usual silence. Try and convince people to just be nice to each other; it's only for a day! So this is something I will get onto organising too. Make sure you play along! This is part of my underground challenge! We're going to choose a day in the summer so people have notice to hopefully spread the word! I'll give you lot the link to the Facebook event as soon as we've sorted it; be sure to participate! And to invite all your friends. And tell them to do the same!

Maybe the person you decide to help out or just to talk to will be your next best friend... maybe even turn out to be your one true love! And ok, maybe those are far fetched possibilities but fairytales are always far fetched and they always turn out alright... Well, by 'alright' I mean the flowered up fairytales that were twisted by the likes of Disney and such are always spun to have one of those unrealistic happy endings we all pretend we're after but are terrified of finding. We're all terrified of making contact with anyone, in case they think we're weird or creepy or something. We can't allow anyone to know we love them more than they love us, so we close ourselves off. We try and stay as far away from other human beings as possible, but during certain times of the day riding public transport means you're going to touch people. And not just the occasional brush past someone, but leaning, pushing and grabbing are all going on all over your personal space. This makes us uncomfortable, so we ignore it's happening and in ignoring the closeness of the people surrounding you as you all cram into a metal tin, silence falls over you. Because it would be too weird if that guy pushed up against you started talking, or if that woman that just fell into your boobs then asked you about your day.

But sometimes, I think you just have to take a leap. If you spend all your time avoiding making contact out of fear, you'll miss a lot of amazing people. And ok, it's not like the tube is an optimum friend making situation and you might be a whole lot better at it out and about or something, but if you live your whole life in your comfort zone is that a bit of a waste?

So prepare yourselves for TalkToAStrangerDay (that can just be what I'm calling it for now) and let me know about your adventures! I'd love to know how you all get on.

The Underground Challenge

Londoners rarely talk to each other (unless they're drunk or something), we're normally storming through crowds or sitting in silence on public transport. Whenever friends of mine from out of London come to visit they find the tube seriously bizarre. All these people, sat in a room together in complete silence for anything up to about 2 hours or so depending on how far you have to go.

The other day my best friend wrote a blog about imagining the lives of people he could see on public transport; whisking them off to fantasy destinations and building up entire stories they might just fall in to. Well, yesterday I went a step further and actually spoke to someone. Found out a bit of their story. Made contact.

I was sat in the corner, writing a poem in my note book (as you do) and the girl opposite me started coughing. It looked like she was in pain so I offered her my bottle of water. I hadn't touched it yet and she could clearly use it more than me, so instinctually pulled it out of my bag and handed it over. She seemed so grateful, like a ridiculous amount of grateful for an 80p bottle of water. Isn't that sad? We're conditioned to think the world is a pile of wank and people are all horrible, so if we ever come across random acts of kindness it throws us off. I didn't even do anything, but she was surprised anyone would step outside their own protective bubble to notice her. And she was thankful.

TubeGirl seemed to have friendly eyes (you know when you can tell if a person is going to be alright or if they're going to be a dick?) and I had just stuck a couple flyers for SpeechMotion into the poster holders over head so figured I'd offer her one and ask if she likes poetry. 

Turns out I found a poet. Who's the same age as me and the same star sign, how weird is that? I handed over my notebook and she read the poem I had just written. It was my first attempt at a love poem. Being a love poem and me being me, I doubt it'll ever hit the interwebs but I've given it to the girlfriend. If she can inspire a love poem, I think she deserves a copy. 

Before TubeGirl got off the train at Turnpike Lane, I gave her my Facebook name and a link to my YouTube account. Check me out, with the self promoting and stuff.

And guess what... When I got home she had actually added me. And had been watching my YouTube videos. Which I am definitely slacking on at the moment, but the last leg of uni combined with a girlfriend means I get less play time and haven't quite worked out time management yet. I have loads of new poems though, just need to do something with them. For my birthday, one of my friends bought me a lush notebook, which I think seems to be encouraging me to write far more than the PukkaPad I was carrying around before. Strangely. 

So, the challenge part of this blog for the lot of you is to talk to a stranger. Or help someone out randomly. See if you make a new friend. You never know who you may find. People are too detached from one another, from themselves. Especially living in the city. Sometimes it's like we don't even exist in a big city like London. Surrounded by people, but no one can see you, because no one is looking.




UPDATE: There's a FB Group for the challenge

Stolen Minutes

      (This is my study face)

I am down to my last week before I reach my presubmission deadline. 9 essays due in on Monday 12th (it's currently Tues 6th for anyone wondering and too lazy to look). This is pretty scary, but I definitely feel as though it's an actual possibility. I came into uni this morning to have a one on one with the dyslexia tutor man, who helped me come up with an action plan and split my time up. I felt really anxious and sick when I realised how much time I had left last night, but I'm feeling ok today. Let's hope it lasts long enough (at least the week, come on!) for me to get all this work done...

Now, I've not written a blog for a while and since my last entry quite a bit has happened that I want to talk about with you. All these things deserve a decent amount of attention, but this is me taking a short break from studying so I wont stick around for long enough to talk about it all - and besides, you wouldn't want to troll through a massive long post all in one go now, would you?

Didn't think so.

So I'm going to give you a quick, what's what, and maybe next time I'm taking a break from philosophy I'll go into things a bit more.

Do you remember me talking about my friend that died on New Years Day? Well, when the car hit her it hit 4 other people too. Carrie died then and there, and I really hope she didn't notice, but who knows. Two of the others were left in comas, one was injured and the other got lucky I guess. Last week, Chelsea, who has been in a coma since the accident and been through the operations we thought would save her, died. About a week after her 20th birthday. I probably said this before, but 20 year olds are not meant to die. I want to say something meaningful, but I'm lost for words. Losing two friends in the space of three months is horrible. But look at me, feeling sorry for myself. 'Cause isn't that all grieving is, feeling sorry for yourself for having to deal with this loss? I'm not really sure what I believe when it comes to what happens next and all that, but I'm pretty sure it's not a lot. I don't believe in things like the soul, we're just a collection of cells and stuff buzzing around, making things happen. So I imagine when I die and my consciousness ends, that'll be it; for my consciousness. But my body? My body is part of this universe, it's part of existence. And it will continue to be part of everything forever. It might not look like me for very long, but it'll change form and move on. I think we're tied in with the universe; with nature I suppose. Maybe I need to look into Buddhism or something when I get a chance, 'cause I know they say something about cosmic energy... or something.

It seems we are surrounded by death all the time; yeah it's depressing to lose people you're close to and it's scary to come face to face with your own motality but I think there's something in this for us to walk away from. A lot of the time, we live as though we have forever. We put things off all the time and save for dreams we're never going to reach. Or worse, we saves for standard grown up things like a house and a car and don't even attempt those dreams your childhood self wanted nothing more than to achieve.

I think we all need to stop trying to be what we think we are meant to be, and just be. Do those things you want to do. See those people you want to see. I dare you to be happy. 'Cause in this Capitalist society of ours, happiness is definitely not on the agenda; it's a waste of time. But relax, 'cause we're not in a race.

Now, I've had my break so I'm hitting the books again. Wish me luck...

___

I just spoke to a friend of mine about this blog post and she just made a really good point. It's important that when you lose someone, who was really important to you, you don't allow their life to have been in vain. Take something positive from everyone around you, 'cause you can learn something all the time. Let these people affect your life and your out look and try to always be your best and try to always find happiness, 'cause we need each other sometimes. I'm not sure that's exactly what she was getting at and I'm not sure I've really said what I wanted to say, but it made me think.

... I think I sound like a nut job.

The Poor Student

So, remember Hello Budget? It was my little rant about how I have no money and have to put myself on a budget or face a period of time where I wont have a penny to my name.

Well, if you remember I allocated myself a generous £100 a week, thinking that would be plenty. How could I possibly spend more than that in a week? I don't really ever go out and I haven't been shopping in ages (though I do think about new jeans and new t-shirts and new bras on a daily basis, not going to lie). But somehow every week I have actually gone over and just taken some of my allowance away from future weeks - I'm keeping track in the calendar on NewMac (it's not a creative name, but it's his name - obviously I'm referring to my Macbook to anyone who didn't pick up on that) so I can see how much I'm spending and now I'm down to £60 a week from here on.

Now, £60 still shouldn't really be an issue considering I live at home. I haven't even bought a book in ages! There was a brief time (like December-February) where I was ordering a new book or dvd almost everyday! Granted, I don't have time to read or watch any of these purchases but I am set for the next few years with things to read - and let's be honest, writers rarely ever make much money so I wont be able to fritter away cash like I've been doing for the last three years. I think having a student loan (and having a job that didn't really feel much like work (mostly) for a year) has damaged my grasp of economics. I don't really have much understanding of the value of money, 'cause it doesn't mean much to me. When I have money, I'll spend it on other people just as quickly as I spend it on myself. It's just this standardised means for exchange that fuels an egotistical society. And ok, yeah, I am part of this society and need to learn to function within it, because I can't just pretend to be a little kid forever - but I sure as Hell plan to find a way to do both; to function and maintain at least a dash of youthfulness, forever.

My girlfriend unfortunately lives kinda far away. Not massive far away, it's only an hour on a big train, but it means paying for train tickets. This in fact means that if I go to Swindon every weekend that's half of my weekly budget already gone. If only I lived in the 60s when people bartered for stuff and I could just trade poems for things. Now that would have been perfect! But it's ok, when I'm done with all this uni stuff, it'll be less backing and forthing a bit =]

Now this isn't me complaining, 'cause she is a bit amazing and worth the empty pockets. It's just me wingeing, 'cause I'm a girl. And 'cause I want to buy tickets to Download soon and if I do that's 3 weeks money - that's 3 weeks I can't do anything... Other than go to uni, 'cause my travel card isn't included in the budget.

This is only going to be until April something anyway when the next instalment of student loan comes through - and this time I'll just manage it better to begin with instead of wasting so much of it on an Amazon addiction and pretty t-shirts. Online shopping is a dangerous thing...

Thanks to the way things work over in the UK and the fact that I'm not two years older and lucky enough to have missed the price hike, I will probably be paying back my student loan for the rest of my life so I'm resigned to the idea of never having much money.

That's how it's meant to be for artists, right? We need to suffer; it spurs creativity. Or, something.... Most of my best writing moments have come out of me spiralling in a pit personal angst and procrastination. Happiness inspires me to write too, but it makes me uncomfortable so I normally stop and hide my creation away somewhere. I think happy poems or love poems almost always just sound a bit cheesy, but maybe that's just 'cause I'm a bit of a pessimist or something.

Weight Loss

This is one of those things that everyone seems to always be 'trying' to do. Everyone wants to lose weight (or at least everyone I'm surrounded by). What I hate is when I look at myself, acknowledge the fat bits and  make the decision to improve then someone comes along and lies to me. I hate being told I'm not fat when I clearly am. I mean ok, I know I'm not morbidly obese or anything, but if I'm strutting around in size 34 jeans I'm definitely not skinny - not when I used to don 28s.

Before university I was about 56kg and training at least 3 times a week, doing Taekwon Do. I was trying to get down to 54kg so I could be in the top end of the weight bracket if I wanted to compete instead of the bottom end. I was teaching and training and always working out. I miss TKD more than you know and think about going back all the time, but I'm a little embarrassed. I'm ashamed of myself for stopping and for getting fat. If I get back down to the size I was before, then I'll feel better about myself and maybe it'll be less embarrassing to go back. Maybe I'll just hang up my black belt for good and take up a new art, how about Jujitsu?

Then I started uni and it was just too much hassle to make it to the class. Then I got a job in a club and it was impossible to make it to the class. So I stopped. And I was a student so obviously drinking more and eating more - whilst not working out at all (apart from dancing like a loon in clubs).

So I put on loads of weight. My size 10 jeans were put away and haven't been looked at since I was 19. My face exploded with my waste and I just carried on pastaring it up with piles of cheese and lots of naps. This was clearing a stupid plan...

This year (academic year, so September 09) I moved back home so I wouldn't have to work in my final year. My parents live in London so I didn't need to live alone and paying rent was too much hassle. My best mate is big on the weight loss so just being around him is pretty encouraging. Since I've been back I have gone from 68kg to 59kg. The amount I'm losing has increased as time's gone on, so I wasn't losing much for the first few months. I think that might be about a stone and a half for people that don't do kg but at TKD that's always what we worked in.

I still don't do much exercise, but I do watch what I eat a bit more. I walk everywhere and whenever I take the underground I always walk up the escalators instead of just standing and wasting time waiting. Apart from the massive one at Holborn station... I can only make it half way before I feel like death... I'm clearly still massive unfit, but smaller.

I've got a picture of Keira Knightley working out as my background on the mac, which reminds me not to sit and pig out all day everyday. It reminds me what hard work and dedication can get you. Unfortunately, I don't have much of either most of the time. So she reminds me what it is I want, in case I forget.

I looked up what my bmi should be for my height and in the summer I was technically over weight. I am currently at the top end of normal, but I would very much prefer to be at the bottom end of that scale.

I would also very much like a nice stomach and nice back so sit ups are becoming a daily activity. It's the plan at least. Let's hope I stick to it. I'll share my progress with you once in a while and if any of you lot fall into the "I'm not happy with my body" box feel free to join my journey. It's all about building communities.

Part of me feels like admitting my self consciousness here may not be that sensible. It un-arms and leaves me defenceless. But heck, we've been together a while now and I'm just starting to open up... who know's how good an idea that is in the long run....

I'll post two pictures so you can compare my face in July and my face now =] Not really great comparative pictures, but I can't be bothered to sit and photoshop pictures together and make it work better.

ShortStory: The Clone Next Door

I remember reading about them cloning that world famous sheep back in the 90’s. Scientists cloned the worlds first mammal that day in ‘96 and the world took heed. Science fiction fans were going crazy and conspiracy theorists were jumping off buildings to prevent having to live through the terrible future this would inevitably lead to. It was all a big deal. Only I remember being sat on the opening end of 2010 and wondering why the hell science hadn’t lived up to all our wild fantasies. Why nothing was really that spectacular and how this futuristic life we we're living in wasn’t really even touching our expectations.


Yeah, sure: YouTube in my pocket is great, but is it really Earth shattering? I remember reading about scientists growing pork from stem cells and thinking that was it!
They can cure world hunger!
They can save the world.
Only, this place is over populated enough and until we can start shipping people off to other planets then they can’t really fit us as it is, let alone start saving people.

So the people with the money decide they want more. They decide who is allowed to live and who is  allowed to die. Science runs on the premise of being good for the people, of discovering and understanding our world to better benefit our people. But maybe that’s just a lie, maybe they just want our money to fund experiments to discover things they’ll convince us we need so we spend more money buying it only to be told there’s something better.
Better.
Bigger.
More.
That’s just how we roll.

Jump ahead 35 years and not much has changed. It’s still about making as much money as possible and screwing over the little guy as much as you can. But now, they’ve wrangled permission on human cloning with ethical backing. If you have the money, you can have a double. It takes a while to grow and it’s more expensive than you could imagine, but it exists. And with it a new kind of power.

The clone is in effect your slave. Or ‘partner’ if you want to be nice to yourself. You dish out chores for it to complete, you send it to see people you don’t want to see, you have it commit a murder while you sit in a busy bar full of witnesses who can swear that you didn’t move all night.

But then there are the people like me, who don’t want to take advantage of our clone, just make use of him. So we split tasks up. Some days I get the fun things; some days the shit, but it’s balanced. I always thought the balance was important. The clone may well be an identical replica of me in every way; every cell. But as soon as it’s completed, it becomes a he and he is now having his own thoughts. We are now two separate thinking beings – incredibly connected, but equally as aware or sentient or rational or whatever else it is you want to ascribe to humanity.

They would put tags in the clones, so they could be told apart from us real people. So they could be tracked and controlled if they got out of hand. But there was never any trouble, they seemed to accept their role as a human play thing and people enjoyed the company.

It all just started with this one guy.
This seemingly innocent one guy. Really I should be saying boy, ‘cause this child was only 18. His daddy had bought him his very own clone for his 18th birthday to welcome in this shining new adulthood.

He was sat in his bedroom staring at himself. Talking, investigating, simply trying to get his head around the whole thing.

Best. Gift. Ever.
Kind of.

He touches the clone. The boy’s finger rolls over a lump. He checks the same spot on his own body almost instinctively but there isn’t a lump to match. He asks his clone if he knows, but he may as well have been asking himself. So he tells his obedient clone to stay still and he’ll help him find out. The boy pulls a switch blade out the top drawer of the desk in his room and prepares himself. He places the edge of the blade against the skin of his clone, who stares at him, terrified. He doesn’t want to be hurt but he suddenly realises he doesn’t actually have control. The clone realises they’ve done something to him, they’ve made him less than human.

He wants to pull away but he remains motionless on his original’s instruction to ‘stay still’. He cries out in pain as the blood gushes down his forearm and onto the blue carpet beneath him. A few drops land on the original’s shoes and he gets real angry. Starts shouting, telling the clone that he’s a ‘worthless piece of crap!’ and all sorts. Hits him round the face and catches him with the blade, that is still in his hand a little. More blood. His blood.

The boy reaches for some pliers from the floor near a pile of other tools, to pull whatever he’s found out of the clones arm. It’s tough at first and it’s more than just lodged into the clones body. The lump had been woven in, almost as though it were part of him. Part of the creation from the get go. The boy looks at it and discards it into his clones lap, before getting up to walk away. He calls his clone “Number Two” and tells him he can go to work for him tomorrow.

But see, Number Two is now alone in the room and picks up the discarded lump from his lap. He uses his other hand to touch the blood, still dripping from his arm where good old Number One cut into him. Slowly wiping away blood, then wiping the blood off his hands onto his jeans. Repeatedly. Wiping the blood from his cheek to his jeans. Repeatedly. But see, this was how it all began – well, how something began.

The next day Number Two was out and about, doing the tasks he was asked to do. While he was out he noticed something: most people doing things are actually the clones. The originals of the world have become lazy. Dependent on their duplicates to fulfil their daily routines so they can spend their time relaxing.

Our Number Two from earlier had made it his mission to secretly remove the lumps from other clones he came across, on the sly during the work day. He realised something changed when his came out and he wanted to help the other slaves of circumstance as he stood shoulder to shoulder with them in the battle field. The originals never paid them much attention, so it was easy enough to do. Now, no more traceable than an original itself, the clones were able to walk amongst the people. Undetected. As more and more of them had their lumps removed they started to become less and less obedient.

Men who saw themselves as owners would use violence on their clone to try to control it’s wild out bursts. As the days went on clones were being murdered in cold blood, but the murder of a science project wasn’t classed as an offence. Murderers were let off the hook, because they didn’t kill a real person; just one that we invented. It was only a matter of time before real people were being murdered but claims of mistaken identity had the killer back on the streets. After all, if someone is acting strangely, exhibiting clone like behaviour and such, how are we suppose to tell the difference? We can’t be held responsible.

As time went on, I watched as the chipless clones grew in number. They wanted ‘human’ status but were being refused such rights. They’re not humans! Just a bunch of human cells grown in a lab… Or at least that was the general consensus on the matter. Humanist protesters had called for a ban on cloning but were never listened to. And why would anyone have listened? These hippies were trying to get in the way of progress. Of evolution and science. No, instead these hippies were thrown in prisons just to keep them off the streets. They filled the court houses with clone workers who worked on shifts between each other. Stem cell grown pork and beef were on hand to keep the new wave of people fed. World hunger is still an issue, but only in those poor countries we haven’t bothered colonising yet. We on the other hand are sorted for life when it comes to food.

Some of these clones even started mating with each other, or even with real humans. Inter-human relationships were frowned upon though and often clones would be shunned by their own kind. They’d be forced into the shadows with the likes of me, hiding for the rest of our lives because we simply don’t know what else to do.

I was one of those damn scientists. Or at least that would be what you’d call me anyway, now that you can see what’s become of us. Those scientists who fought to be allowed to try and clone an entire human. It was just wide eyed curiosity to begin with, the way all scientists just want to know ‘what if?’ or ‘whether I can?’. That’s just how science works, you test the boundaries the universe seems to have in place. I was young and didn’t think science was enough, didn’t think we were moving fast enough into the future so I jumped on the bandwagon straight out of university.

The clones out number the originals maybe 6:1 these days and they have full control of everything.

But they’re just clones of humans… why is this not the same thing as there just being lots of humans around? It’s not like we can tell on looking at a person now is it?

I can tell you’re after answers. They know if they’re clones, they can tell. They remember realising they weren’t in full control and they remember cutting out that lump we created as part of them. The idea was that they could be controlled, culled into helping mankind into the future. Instead they have taken the future from us.

I’ve seen all this, but the most tragic thing of it all is that nothing looks that different. If you didn’t know already, you wouldn’t be able to tell that we were on the verge of extinction and to always watch your back. ‘Cause the clones are angry and they wont let us forget it. They now work in our labs and behind our desks. They found ways to enhance their own clones, who were grown a little taller or a little stronger. Who’s brains were a little bigger and a little more efficient.

We called it evolution when we had the power but now it’s more like an apocalypse. Both sides living in fear of the other, unable to even tell who the enemy is until it’s too late. These days everyone has a gun in the pocket and a knife in their back. And my pathetic little self hides out in the dark corners, trying to go unnoticed because I simply don’t know what else to do. The new breed of people, these clones, aren’t even given the opportunity to build the city up thanks to the constant battles on the streets. The internal conspiracy fears will have them destroying each other once we’re all gone. The world will be a wasteland and mankind will have been extinguished and I will die knowing that this was my wide eyed curiosity that got us here.

The SuperPennie Paradox

Privacy is one of those things that people used to take as a given, but these days doesn't really exist unless you try. Everybody knows everything and if they don't Facebook and the likes will be sure they get an update. This actually freaks me out an awful lot. Worse since December or whenever it was that Facebook got more with the sharing and removed loads of the privacy settings that were once available. Now if you do anything, everyone knows about it.

Somewhere in this ultimate openness lies a different kind of privacy. People are so bombarded with information that they don't really give a crap about they don't actually take much of it in. They have so many friends falling through their news feed that they don't actually pick much up. People start missing all the information they are being given. This is sometimes the best you can hope for in our modern day. Yipee.

Ok yeah, I could just delete all these accounts and solve the problem, only I need to stay connect. I'm a writer and a poet and I need to build up my contacts if I want to be known and get gigs etc etc. I hate phone conversations so would much rather message a friend than actually talk to them. I like being able to see any pictures anyone has taken of me that exist (not because I'm in love with myself, but 'cause I'm self conscious and I don't want ugly pictures floating about).

If you have a face, you can bet it's on cctv.
If you register for an Oyster card (that's how we get on public transport in London) then the machines know where you are at what time.
If you have a mobile phone you are completely findable anywhere - or at least anywhere with signal.
If you own a computer machines record your ip address. Machines remember what you're looking at and what you're buying. Machines know everything.

But that's not even what I want to talk about. I want to focus more on real human to human privacy and am just going to ignore the fact that we're practically living in 1984 and nobody is doing a thing about it.

I don't like people knowing things about me. If I wanted them to know, I'd tell them myself. It's not like my life is a big secret, my friends are entitled to whatever information they want. But I want to be involved in telling them, I don't want them to find out separate from me. And I also don't really understand why I'd just give away certain information for the sake of it. I know so many people that probably shouldn't be considered friends, more like acquaintances and those people aren't entitled to updates on my life (I'm sure they feel the same about me). But here is the SuperPennie Paradox.

I divulge information to people all the time. I have a blog. I have a YouTube. A Twitter. A Myspace. A Facebook. I'm connected to a world of faces and fingertips and I share a lot of myself. I'm sure it seems strange after all that to come out and say I'm a private person but somehow it's still true.

Video: Above Tables (GayAfrica)

Ok, I kinda feel like I'm mass posting here - let's just say I'm making up for lost time and I promise not to post anything else in the next 24 hours!
This is the poem I wrote for the GayAfrica thing I mentioned. It's 4am so I have tired eyes going on, so there you go.



If you're in London, be sure to come down to the event. Click for the Facebook page.

Date:	Sunday, 28 February 2010
Time:	16:00 - 20:00
Location:	Free Word Centre
Street:	60 Farringdon Road, London EC1R 3GA
Town/City:	London, United Kingdom

Public Displays

I apologise for having disappeared for a few days people, I was away visiting some amazing people in Swindon/Taunton and couldn't find the time to pull myself from certain lovely faces to sit down and write to you guys. But now I am home I figure I may as well get back on it!

I was thinking about public displays of affection while I was gone and have decided to share such thoughts and check out other peoples opinions on the matter. See I think if someone wants to hug or kiss their partner in public they can crack on, there's nothing wrong with that. I mean obviously, nobody wants to see someone with their hand down their partner's jeans or two people gyrating against a wall, but those moderate displays are cute.

The other day I saw an old couple kissing on an escalator down to the underground. I want to still be kissing someone I love when I'm in my 60's and 70's!

So I started thinking about gay couples, I think it's that little bit scarier to kiss or hold hands with your partner in public, for fear of being gay bashed or something. That's not cool; people shouldn't be afraid of showing their love. I think this is more likely in gay men rather than gay women, but I could be wrong. I think it's less likely you'll see gay boys kissing in public than you are to see lesbians do it, I wonder why that is...

Maybe people are more likely to say something to guys. Maybe they're more likely to want to fight with guys. Maybe they're just more freaked out by gay guys than girls, 'cause they see them less. I don't know, I don't know why people do anything. I imagine most things are just because the world is fucked up and people are just shit, but maybe that's just a hint of pessimism or something. But hidden inside that pessimistic shell of mine, is a tiny little penguin looking for a hug... or something to that effect, maybe.

All I know is, is that people should be able to love whoever they want and not be afraid to let anyone know. People shouldn't go round punching people for being happy. And people need to take a step back and get a grip 'cause there are far worse things in the world than someone that isn't you being happy.

I like holding peoples hands, I'm a hand holder.

Gay Africa

I have been asked to join the Rhymes Wont Wait collective and do a performance at a charity event.

"GAY AFRICA is a powerful response to the human rights and sexuality crisis sweeping the continent. In Uganda they propose to execute gays, in Malawi they imprison gay men who marry, in Nigeria they ban all meeting and support for LGBT people"

I have sat down today to try to pen a poem on topic and have come up with my first draft. It is called Above Tables and I'm sure you'll get a peak at it when it's done.

This is a really important issue and I am proud to be part of something so special in trying to make a difference and get awareness about the craziness going on out there out. If you are in London (or near by) hit up the gig, it's free! Clicking on the title will send you to the event page on Facebook.

If you don't already know, you should look it up. Right now a scary level of homophobia is sweeping across Africa to a point where laws are being passed to have people killed. Murdering people because you don't agree with them is not ok. Doing it in the name of God is worse. American Evangelicals (as well as the Catholic Church) have gone over there and preached hate and violence to such a degree that almost the entire continent has jumped on the bandwagon. This really isn't ok.

Sunday 28th February 2010 4pm – 8pm

Free Word Centre, Farringdon
60 Farringdon Road, London EC1R 3GA

Before The World Was Flat...

This is going to be a really short one I'm afraid as I'm currently working and paused to share this with you all. I'm sat transcribing my tutorial (I recorded us talking about stuff - it was a damn good plan) so I can have all the notes written down to refer to and it got to a part where were were talking about the Greeks and geometry and how they used it to work out the world was a sphere. Turns out that story about Christopher Columbus discovering the world was round rather than flat was a lie! I feel cheated. Part of me kind of wonders what the point of school (as in high school) even was you know, they didn't teach us anything and when they did teach us things it was a lie and they totally had us believing Britain were the saviours of the planet or something big and British - with all the look at us and our spirit. Ok that's just in history classes that last bit I guess, but still. In fact, I feel a rant about secondary schools in Britain may be in order. Just not today. This is me making a note of it.

They saw the shadow of the Earth on the Moon during a lunar eclipse was round. And they used the stars rising and falling to work it out too.

Plato used geometry (which he had mass love for) to tell us the sun, moon and planets would all have a natural circular motion.
Ok so we know the sun doesn't orbit anything now, but still - be impressed!

They even worked out how big the Earth had to be.
And when eclipses and other cosmology related events would happen.

I started researching this so I could share with you how awesome the Ancient Greeks were, but I should instead be writing my essay. I am like a super procrastinator, yet it's all somehow disguised to look like it's still work.... well I'm reading about Plato, so it still counts... only, that's not really true now is it? Sorry this entry isn't really up there with the awesomeness that is [SuperPennie] but I just needed to share my findings with someone and there's no one to talk to at 5.40am about this and I was far too excited to just keep it to myself.

You know, it kind of upset me that I wasn't an Ancient Greek. But I guess, being a girl I wouldn't have been able to go to any of those schools of thought and studied with all the lads anyway. Pretty sure only rich men or little boys the rich men could look after got to go to school. But I don't actually know how true that statement is.

Some Days The World Is So Small

Don’t you find it strange when two people you met in very different environments know each other? Even more so if they’re like best friends, right? This actually happens to me fairly often! I live in London, it’s not like there is a shortage of people or anything, yet somehow everyone I come across knows somebody else I already know. 

I’ll give you an example. I was at a media course thing (I’ve spoken about it before) for a couple days however long ago. While I was there I met a lovely Russian girl and we got talking and she is the only person from the day I kept in contact with. There was also a boy who gave me his email address but he wrote it on a really small bit of paper and I unfortunately lost it by the time I got home… and he doesn’t have a Facebook. So he’s lost to the world now.

But I have kept the Russian and we’re actually friends now. Turns out I met her best friend like last March or something (maybe further back) in the club I used to work in with some other mates of mine. I know these people from separate worlds; writer world and clubber world – yet not only do they both go to ucl, they’re friends. Not even that they just know each other, but real friends. I find it hilarious. And they are both Russian, which probably almost explains how they both know each other to be fair, but still. I think it’s weird.

  

I used to have a pink Mohawk, back when I was 18/19 and working in the night club. Friends of mine would bump into lesbians all over the country and start talking about either London or me or Ghetto or whatever and they ALL would know me as ‘The pink haired girl from Ghetto’. How funny is that? National ‘fame’ for having awesome hair and working in a once awesome club.

Alas, it got less awesome and now it doesn’t even exist anymore. But I got one year of it’s awesomeness (I know that was a lot of 'awesome-ing' in a short amount of space - but heck it's the right word). Apparently it was even better in the years before I was old enough to play. Some days I miss that me, but most days I don’t. Being sociable is really exhausting. People wanting your attention all the time you don’t get any to yourself – and to be honest, I’d rather sit alone and watch a movie any day. This isn’t me blowing my own horn by the way, you just meet a lot of people as a student and working in a bar. I used to make a lot more effort to talk to people, but this year I don’t make much at all. My reason is study and that I now live on the outskirts of London which means it’s too much of a mission getting home if I go clubbing. I think if you over do something it loses it’s spark, and I definitely over did the social queen bit and the drinking bit. But you’re allowed to drink excessively as a fresher – you’re never going to be able to do that again if you get a grown up job when you graduate! Now days I pretty much don’t drink at all. People look at you funny if you say you don’t drink – what does that say about our society? It’s got to be more than it says about me, right? 

When The Fun Goes South

I realise that actually sounds a little sexual. That’s not what I was going for, but heck I’ll leave it that way –

I was thinking about how much I enjoy reading. How much time I spend reading. Whether it’s a blog, website, newspaper, novel, philosophy, script or poetry I enjoy every moment of it – until I have to do it. Until I have to do it and be tested on how well I understood it. Those moments I not only have to do it and be tested on it but I have to throw in my own input. Suddenly thinking and reading becomes the last things I want to do in the world. Suddenly I’d rather do nothing.

How does that make any sense? How can something I love so much one minute suddenly become a nightmare I’m trying to avoid? So I spend more time than I can afford telling myself I can’t do it or I don’t want to do it or not even thinking about it at all – until every so often I just suck it up and sit down to do it. Once I start it’s fine, it’s just getting myself to start that I have a lot of trouble with.

I think it’s ‘cause I’m scared of failing; of not being good enough. So I don’t want to try. 

I don't want to think like this and I’m trying to push those thoughts away but it’s a bottom of my stomach kind of avoidance. The same sort of feeling I get if I have to tell someone something they don’t want to hear or ask to do something they might not want me doing.

Fear isn’t going to get me anywhere. Apart from left behind while the world speeds on by. It occurred to me that I’m actually scared of lots of little things. I’m not the sort of person that sees a mouse and screams or watches a horror movie and has nightmares, but I am the sort that see’s a microphone stand that’s too high and panics at the thought of having to be the person to fix it. The person that freaks out because she thinks she’s going to fail, but somehow can’t stop the freaking out and just get my head down to stop the failing. I’m getting better. I’m learning to organise my time better. But it's not like it's even enough.

It’s never been this hard before. School was a doddle, never had to work that hard; never had that much to do. For anyone that’s ever been part of the National Curriculum you know that they don’t want us thinking for ourselves or thinking outside of any boxes – school was just about memorising random crap to purge onto a page in an exam. Suddenly I’m learning, I’m thinking and I’m scared. Everyone around me (pretty much) went to private schools and read really fast and have been doing philosophy since they were little so they seem so much better at this than me (ok partial exaggeration going on but let it go). I chose philosophy on a whim. I was going to take law and realised it would be a nightmare and there was no way I could be a lawyer. I’m not emotionally strong enough to send people to prison, or to help murderers walk free.

I did some work experience with the CPS when I was 15 and went to a bunch of trials in the crown court and there was at least one occasion I started to cry. There was this black guy who was being done for assault and the police officers were giving their evidence. 10 white guys who were all reading notes from their little black note pads which they all sat down in the cafeteria and wrote together. Of course their stories are going to fit together, they can draft out what they’re going to say and compare notes. Of course this one man’s word isn’t going to be able to stand up to the word of 10 policemen. And I felt sorry for him, I could see in his eyes that they were screwing him over (maybe I’m just naïve).

But living off Old Kent Road in S.London for a year I saw the police take advantage of a fair few black boys from the council flats across the road, so I have little faith in their policing ability and think British Police are more like bullies.

Again I’ve gone off on a tangent. Now to suck it up and get this bloody essay out of the way.