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

Interview With Tim Vigon Plus Catch Up

Hey guys,

It seems every time I talk to you, it begins with an apology for being so infrequent. So let's just shuffle through that. When applying for my postgrad I had to write an interview. I recently posted the interview I wrote to my website, so you should all go and check it out and let me know your thoughts =]

CLICK ME

I currently have a full time job and have just moved into a new house, so until this morning did not have the internet. But I am back, kind of. I still have no time, but I am a writer. Writing is what I do. I haven't felt like me for a while now. No time to read, no time to write, no time. But on Monday I went to my parents house and picked up a Nietzsche book and started reading again. I've been planning in my head, making notes, writing. Not loads, but more than nothing. I'm slowly beginning to feel like me.

It's strange how there is never enough time to tick all the boxes at once and something always has to give. My world should be perfect right now. Perfect girlfriend. Awesome job. Amazing house. And I'm almost content. I just want to make sure I don't lose myself. I imagine it is something everyone faces at various points through their lives. Maybe learning to find the balance is what it is all about. Finding the middle ground. I'm working on finding balance, as it goes I have just found a very sleepy Pennie.

Moving Up, Along And Backwards

I have much updating to do here and probably not all that much time, so I'll just jump straight in. I have been working on my website lately and am only deciding and discovering what it is I want exactly as I go along. In the spirit of going with the flow I will begin using it from now, posting stories and such and we can all just watch the site grow and develop together. Some of you may have already noticed the address for this blog has been redirected to become part of my site, going under the title blog.superpennie.com. I will continue to use this but will also be using superpennie.com too. Everything I post there will have either a copy posted up here with a link or just a summary with a link for you all to see.

Hopefully this will mean more content from me. I already have a few ideas in the works. The first of which I wrote on the tube yesterday and which I will hopefully get online over the next couple of days =]

In other news, I performed at The Great Bardic Alliance in aid of National Poetry Day last night. The Guardian published an article discussing modern poetry and mentioned the night, which you can all read and comment on here. To begin with I was a little annoyed with the author, but on further consideration, we were given free advertisement in a national newspaper, so that's a win. It was an awesome night and I got to see many acts I have never seen before. I was there representing SpeechMotion 

I have a bit of footage and will hopefully be getting a video or two of me too, so I will be sharing those with you shortly.

Remember the work experience I had to cancel when I tore the ligaments in my ankle a while back? Well, I have managed to rearrange it and I will be starting on Monday! This is very exciting, but it does mean I will have no money and have to travel around London everyday without a student Oyster card... I've not worked out how that will happen yet.

And finally, I have an interview for my post grad in magazine journalism on Wednesday. I don't want to say anymore about it, partly because I don't want to jinx anything and partly because I don't want to get too excited, but you all have to wish me luck and send me good energy and do whatever other ritualistic things you do, if any, in these situations. It would be much appreciated, though admittedly not completely understood. But I have come to accept that I will never truly understand very much and those who say that they do are either pretending or mistaken.

Telling Stories

After being somewhat inspired by the new blog of a university friend of mine, I decided sharing some stories from my past with you could be quite interesting. Having a retrospective view of the events allows for a different understand of how and why things happened, whilst offering you, my trusty army of followers, an insight into the life and times of SuperPennie, before she claimed her title.

Once upon a time, lived a dorky little girl called Pennie Varvarides. She was the youngest of three, born nine and a half years after number two, her elder sister Helen. You may be wondering why there was such a massive gap... no? Well, I'm going to explain this to you anyway...

After my mother had my sister, she had one of those coil things put in, so she couldn't have any more kids for a while. They couldn't really afford another one and they had far too much work to do as it was. Unfortunately something went wrong and the coil got infected, so it had to be removed. The dr's told my mother she wouldn't be able to have any more children. She just wanted to put it off for a bit, until they were in a better place, but it looks like the dr's just took with them any hopes for another child, ever, even if they were ready and really wanted one. So eventually they stopped even thinking about it (I don't actually know if that's true, I'm just guessing... but I'm the storyteller... so I'm allowed =p), until one day my mother started going through those familiar signs of pregnancy.... that's right... it was me!

My parents and the dr's were all worried that there would be something wrong with me and this is how I got my name. In the Greek Orthadox religion, by naming your baby after a saint you are promising them your child's soul in exchange for protection... or maybe that's just the deal my mum had with Mary. You see Pennie is short for Panayiota, which in Greek is the name taken from the word Παναγια (bah-nah-yee-ah) referring to the mother of Jesus; Mary.

My sister always told me she asked Santa for a little sister and that he gave her me... I was born in March though, so just always thought Santa was tardy with his deliveries that year or something.
My brother always told me he had asked for a little brother and to compromise, rather than sending two new babies, I was a tomboy. This sounded logical to me... I just always assume I was like a boy, just without boy bits. Made perfect sense... to a 5 year old.

Being considerably younger than my brother and sister (as well as all the cousins) I got used to playing on my own. So much so, I kind of preferred it. Now days, I'm still pretty much the same, really enjoying any time I have to just hang out with myself and not have to talk or worry about whether my actions are fitting into those social norms everyone tries so hard to fit into....
Actually, to be honest, I never make that much effort in trying to be sociable and follow suit. I just have been lucky enough to find other people who are equally bonkers or geeky to bide my time with.

In playing by myself, I would often lay claim to empty notebooks that my parents had yet to start on and pens I found lying around. I'd write my own stories, of love and adventure and even put them into chapters. I'd pretend I had my own magazine or newspaper and interview adults around my parents factory if I'd been taken with them on days there wasn't anyone to babysit me. I'd write my own songs and dance around the house singing to myself. I was always writing. If I wasn't writing, I'd be making up games where I'd be keeping scores... where I'd still be writing, just stretching my arithmetic skills.

It didn't occur to me that I was always supposed to be a writer until fairly recently though, as strange as that is. I had wanted to be a scientist and invent things from as young as I can remember up until the age of 7, when I switched to wanting to be a lawyer for some reason. I imagine this thought was carefully planted in me from an external source, but I have no idea. When deciding on universities I went to visit King's College London on the law open day. I then went to a few other law open days. I realised it was most definitely something I never in a million years ever wanted to do. But I did however fall in love with King's and had my heart set on studying something there.

I picked up the prospectus and flicked to the humanities section, as writing and reading have always been my strong suit. Humanities subjects are the ones I'm best at. Had a flick through, took in mind the ALevel grades I thought I could get and picked a course out of those choices. It came down to philosophy and English lit, but as I'd never done philosophy before, it seemed like an amazing idea and I went with it.

This all kind of makes it sound a little planned out and thoughtful, but in reality this process took about 5 minutes. I can be fairly impulsive sometimes, but I find it normally works out ok. Part of me just kind of knew that was the right decision and there wasn't anything else I should be doing.

I wrote the most amazing personal statement, with help from a friend of mine from Taekwon Do who was currently doing her masters at King's in English. On seeing my personal statement my head of sixth form got really excited and came to speak to me. He had studies Maths and Philosophy at university and wanted to share in a moment with me. I had no idea about any philosophy whatsoever, apart from the first book of Plato's Republic which I had read while writing my personal statement for some inspiration and to be able to say I read it.

He introduced me to Sartre. He lent me Nausea and insisted I read it. I was hooked. By the time I finished reading it I was in love. In love with Sartre. In love with philosophy. And in love with words. The book made me feel so much, so much more than a book had ever made me feel before. I knew then that I had to be a writer. To one day create something that can make somebody feel even half as much as I felt reading Sartre.

One day, I'll write something that amazing. But I'm still just a baby in the grand scheme of things I guess, just finding my footing in the world. So I'm not in a hurry. When something comes to me, I'll just go with it.

Job Hunt Strategies

It seems in this day and age, finding a job is not an easy venture. For every available position there seem to be scores of applicants to compete against, meaning standing out from the crowd is a major factor. Finding your first real job is thus painfully difficult for most, after all there are so many people with years of experience, why pick up a graduate?

After a couple of months of sending out CV's and applications I am taking on a more aggressive approach. I'm collecting the contact details for all the jobs I'm applying to, and in a few days I will phone them and remind them of my sheer awesomeness in the hopes of encouraging them to hire me. In finding a job, you need to get noticed and a phone call is more noticeable than an email, which can be lost in a packed out inbox never to be given a second thought. A couple of phone calls may be what it takes to get someone's attention.

Earlier tonight I found a fantastic job giving me the foot in the door I am in such desperate search for. I wrote the perfect cover letter and clicked apply.... only to be faced with the guardian website/the internet crashing on me. It was lost. I couldn't even find the page again anywhere. I had written the contacts name down already, but there was no other contact information available... thanks to the powers of the internet and some good Googling skills I found not only his email address but his phone number. I sent him a personalised email and my CV in the hopes of a (positive) response. And I plan to make use of his phone number.

I must admit, I hate talking on the phone, but if I get brushed off I will be trying again. You have to be persistent to get anywhere and in a world where your voice blends into the background, you just need to learn to make more noise. Wish me luck in this venture people. And if anyone has any UK media/publishing contacts they wish to share with me, I will be more than grateful.

Quick Update

Sorry I vanished for a bit guys. You'd think not being able to walk would give me optimum writing time, but rather I took the opportunity to lie around and not do anything... I had to cancel my work experience which is most definitely a sad time, as there was no way I could manoeuvre my way around London in the state I've been in.

I just thought I would let you all know that I am performing at Summer of Love and Music Festival this weekend thanks to my magical girlfriend. I'll be on the acoustic stage tomorrow afternoon. If anyone lives in the area it's only £20 for the whole weekend including camping and money goes to charity! Win. Or I think it's a tenner per day.

Also, me and Laura have begun work on our horror screen play. We've not written a screen play before so we're excited about what we might come up with. If anyone has any ideas they wanna throw at us, put them below =]

Just My Luck

Saturday was Kaity's Mad Hatter's Tea Party. It was the most amazing party I have ever been to in my life. There was a piñata, bubbles, Twister, Jenga, sword fights, fancy dress, party hats, edible tea cups, a trampoline, poi, frisbee, some other ball type toy thing to throw, vodka jelly, bowls and Ring of Fire around a bon fire. As well as lots of booze. What more could anyone possibly ask for from a party?

How about a cake?

Anna spent ages making THE most amazing cake ever. I wish I had taken a picture from a different angle so you could see just how great this cake was. 

At the end of the night some friends were leaving and after saying goodbye we remembered they had the only pack of Rizla. I was sent on a mission to catch up with them and ask for it before they left, so off I went, running down the garden. 

It was dark and I couldn't really see.

I've only been to Anna's house a couple of times so I'm not exactly familiar with the place. There was a couple of steps at the end of the garden that I hadn't thought about and went flying to the ground. I lay there for a moment to gain my composure then attempted standing up to continue on my mission. I'm not a quitter and figured a bit of pain shouldn't stop me from doing anything...

How wrong I was...

Standing up most definitely was not happening. I lay there a little longer then started thinking about how stupid I had been. You see, about 5 minutes earlier when the friends I was chasing were leaving, one of them had in fact tripped down the step that had just taken me out. I was there. I watched her do it. And I laughed.

I only laughed because she was ok. If she was hurt it would have obviously been different. But there I was...

When I was sure I could gather myself, I stood up and hobbled to the living room. I lay down on the sofa and just rested for a bit. Thought about taking a nap to be honest... naps and water solve everything!

15 minutes later K and a couple of her friends appeared wondering where I'd disappeared off to. Then saw my ankle. It was gross.

Before letting them put an ice pack on it I felt the need to pause and take a picture. I hope you appreciate it!

I was lucky enough to be around awesome people, so I was well looked after. K's parents took me to the hospital the next day, so I got out of tidying... plus side?
It's a torn ligament, so if I keep off it for the week it should hopefully be ok. Just need to remember to not walk. This is something I have discovered is really hard work. I realised how much I hate people having to do things for me, it makes me feel so guilty! I hate feeling like a burden.

I was sat in the hospital with K's parents, in a wheel chair and was staring at my ankle. I was sure it wasn't broken, but nobody else was. The nurse sent me for an xray and whilst in the waiting room I started thinking about how funny it looked and how funny it would be if I had broken my ankle on K's 21st birthday. Now that is a lasting memory... I burst out laughing.
For ages.
In a silent room.
I just couldn't stop myself.

I've realised how much I take my body for granted. I don't appreciate how easy it is to be able to walk around and get yourself a drink when you get thirsty. I'm just going to be limping around for a week or two, this is some peoples life.

As you know, this week is the first week of work experience... I am however incapable of doing very much. I am gutted that I have to postpone it for a week as I have been so excited about it but on the bright side, I get an extra few days with K. I was supposed to be heading back to London for a month so we wouldn't be able to see as much of each other, but I couldn't get myself back home like this.

Wednesday is graduation so tonight we are heading back together so I have someone to help me. After graduation I will rest up the best I can all week to make sure Monday morning I can make my way to the office! It also means, I get a few days at home being looked after by my mum and catching up on things I could be doing. I'll just have to make sure I am on the ball when I get to the office on Monday to make up for being so clumsy. You always want to come across as amazing in these situations and make a good impression, I am worried that this ankle thing may damage that a little bit. Hopefully when they see how excited I am about writing and working with them, it'll give me bonus points to make up for not being able to walk.

Everything will be fine. And when I can walk again I'm going to make use of those legs of mine and be a little less lazy. She says...

I'm really lucky it wasn't worse and I'm really lucky it was at the end of the night. I got to spend the whole day playing! Well, a lot of the day was in the kitchen tidying up but I took on the job with pride. I imagine Anna and K spend just as much time if not more doing the same. If I ever make it as a writer I'll be sure to hire cleaners and caterers for K's party.... I'll just throw her one for shits and giggles. It can be an unbirthday party =p
I've become that person that always looks on the bright side. When did that happen? Blame K.

Schedule

I mentioned getting a regular schedule together on Sunday. I'd like to aim for Monday, Wednesday, Friday and Sunday but I'm worried that four times a week will be a little much to keep up with along with everything else going on in my world. So I've decided to ween myself into a system instead of just throwing myself in at the deep end. I'm the sort of person who always aims for the stars, expecting to fall a little short. I figure if I aim high and miss my target, then I'll still have done pretty well. And I do normally do pretty well I guess, but I am always disappointed that I didn't make it to the stars. So maybe I should be sensible and aim for a little less now and then and when I get there - 'cause I will get there - I can raise the bar a little.

If I was training for high jump, I wouldn't go straight to the Olympics and stick the bar at 3 meters now would I?

The idea of lowering my expectations of myself almost feels like a kick in the teeth though. Why can't I do everything? What is this thing called 'time restraint'? Why can't I bloody well fly?

I imagine this is something a lot of people have to deal with. Let me know I'm not alone...

So the schedule I'm aiming for is going to be Monday and Friday every week and then Wednesday and Sunday if I'm feeling inspired. I imagine getting myself into a routine is good practice for when I'm a fully fledged member of the real world and have a job and stuff... Right?

A Midsummer Feminists Party

The Saturday before last some artsy friends of mine held a Midsummer Feminists Gig at Balham Bowling Green. There was food, drink, poetry, music, dance and even a fire place. So all in all a good night. The night was hosted by Catherine Brogan who had the audience giggling the night away talking about everything from how the toilets work to how a poem she wrote for my sisters night, Dyssing Monadys is now being used in schools to teach teachers about dyslexia (how amazing is that?)! 

The night was a fundraiser for the London Feminist Conference.

As it turned out, there was no Northern line and I started my journey in Swindon... so me and K had to mission it with a bunch of change overs and overground trains to get there (late - though it wasn't on a real time schedule anyway) and meant we had to leave early, to get back to my house at the opposite end of London.

We spotted the big gates walking down the street and I remembered doing this journey once before, last year some time, when Cat held another poetry event there. I've been to a few arts events at squats around London, but I think this was K's first. As we passed through the gates we were greeted by a couple of feminists sat at a table looking for donations. Further down the path we found a sign and the entrance on to the green; a large space with a bonfire hole out in the middle and a table tennis table set up in front of the building. Of course, we were soon to have a game... How could we resist?

Because of the time constraints facing me, I could only see a few of the acts. This is definitely a sad time, as I missed lots of gold, but here are some highlights:

The Kitchen Quartet were definitely at the top of the list for me. As you can (just about) see from the picture, the quartet was a person down for the evening, but don't worry the three of them still kicked arse. Their quirky style of new arrangements made from old songs were fantastic.

Sabrina Mahfouz was absolutely amazing as usual, performing a bunch of new material she tested out on us as well as the Red Riding Hood poem that won her the Lyrical Challenge the month I took part. 

Camila Fiori was another highlight, performing a poem in maybe five different languages. I'm pretty sure I spotted French, Italian, Spanish and English as well as maybe something else... unfortunately my language skills aren't nearly as amazing but I feel a little inspired to try to write my own bilingual poem. I may as well make use of being able to speak Greek! 

I've been a very busy bee this week but I'm going to make a point of blogging regularly. I have to do an Interview for the journalism course I'm applying to, so will be talking to The Dead Lay Waiting this week thanks to the lovely wife. She's a music promotor and is using her magic powers for good i.e. to help me out.

Here Comes The Count Down

In about 19 hours I will be done. I will have walked out of the door of my final exam and be free to play at being a grown up and existing with out the massive safety net that education provides. While I was in school I was guided and protected from what it is to exist in the real world. Living alone and paying bills whilst at university has left me with a vague impression of it but it's skewed. In about 19 hours university will be over and (on the theory I did well and don't have to re-sit anything) I will be left stood at the foot of a mountain with just the few tools I was handed along the way. I'd been walking with a guide up a hill for years and I was under the illusion that it would be consistent throughout, but then the hill got a little steeper and a little steeper until here I am facing the biggest challenge I've yet to come up against and my guide is walking back down the hill to pick up other travellers.

Ok, so this analogy is a little long winded, but you get the idea. I have been sat in the library revising for the last six and a half hours, in which time I have concluded that I really dislike epistemology and though I was aiming for 3-4 different topics I seem to just have one huge all encompassing one going on, which is a little scary, but the other philosophers I've spoken to seem to be in the same position.

I was studying hard up until my black pen ran out. Note taking without a pen is kinda difficult believe it or not... I was writing in pink and red for a while, but all the notes being in pink and red isn't so great so I stopped and started reading. I've been debating whether I should go to the shop and buy a new pen or just go home... so far sitting here is winning.

I have work experience sorted for a month with Pink Paper in the summer, which should be fantastic. Hopefully they let me write some things... I did work experience with them when I finished my first year for just a couple of weeks and they invited me back. They let me write an article and review Reading Pride which was awesome, and I'm hardly going to refuse their offer to return!

There is this journalism course I want to get on as well, to start in January. I've got the forms ready to apply, but it's still too soon. The next course runs in July, so I'll wait for the first deadline to pass! If I apply quickly, hopefully I'll get some points...

I'm also looking at a media internship with the Green Party, which looks amazing. I couldn't find anywhere on their website that made applying for that simple so I've emailed a couple of email addresses I found in the hopes of a response... if I fail to hear back from them, maybe I should give them a call.

There is so much I want to do and I'm excited to be able to start my life, 'cause up until now it has kinda been on hold. This will be the first time I'm not in education, 'cause I never took a gap year. I now have time to get on with all my different projects; to dedicate time to my poetry - to my writing. To really get on promoting the Underground Challenge.

There is of course a pitfall in my master plan here and that is my lack of funds. I can afford the journalism course, after saving up for it this year, but that's about it. I need to find myself a part time job to work around my busy schedule up until I start the course in Jan to fund my life a little bit, other wise I'm screwed. Hopefully after the course I will find myself a writing job on a magazine somewhere, that would be ideal. Maybe a travel magazine, that'll send me all over the world to review planes and hotels.... Haha it might be a dream, but it's a plausible one.

Now, I suppose I may as well return to perception and the sources of knowledge... as well as induction of course, 'cause everything just comes back to induction.

Ooh ooh, before I go I'd like to leave you with something interesting I learnt in my revision yesterday. The word 'testimony' comes from the Greek word 'testis' and it would literally mean to swear on ones testicles... that would be a sign a person wasn't lying! Well, it made me laugh so I hope it at least put a smile on some of your faces.

Names, Reference and God

After getting up to vote this morning (I could discuss the UK elections but my brain isn't currently up to such a task), which I hope any Brits reading this would have done too, I headed to the library for a revision day. I've lost lots of revisions days thanks to one reason or another so am swiftly running out of time before my first exam Monday. But all will be ok... She says, in a non-commital tone...

I had a revision day yesterday with a few philosophers, which left me feeling as though I'm lacking. I adopted a new revision technique (kinda) and a gauge of where I should be and how far I have to go; however nauseating, did give me some direction. So today I rocked up to the library, armed with some felt tips and coloured paper to tackle reference.

What is it about a name that allows us to talk about something? If I'm talking to you about 'Plato' how is it we both know who I'm talking about? 

This was more or less my day (up until 4pm): following an argument through and realising the complexities of language. I now know that just 'cause something means the same thing it can't just be interchangeable.

Pennie Varvarides = SuperPennie

Pennie Varvarides = Pennie Varvarides

Well, we can't just substitute one out for the other or we'd lose meaning. We don't gain anything from the second statement so it has to be something deeper.

I have thought about attempting to go into what I covered today properly, partly as it'll help towards my revision and partly 'cause it's kinda interesting. Only, I doubt that all that many of you want to be reading a philosophy essay (though I know there are in fact a few). So instead, if any philosophers have anything to say about name and reference or about Mill, Russell, Frege or Kripke please, leave a comment.

On taking a break from Logic and Metaphysics (which is Mondays exam) I met with a friend to discuss religion. We got side tracked a lot and I discovered one of our class mates actually found God so to speak, when most of us in studying the subject went the other way. This made me think, maybe there's something I missed. Maybe one day I'll work out what that was...

We tried to work through the design argument and pretty much concluded that theists make up a few dodgy arguments and assume it implies some omniscient being when really all it does is show humans like to make inferences.

Paley uses the example of a watch and the watchmaker to claim that the universe is the same. That because we wouldn't look at the intricate mechanics of a watch and not assume it had a creator so why look at the world and think it sprung up all on it's own. Only mechanics and nature are as different as can be, so why should they fall to the same rules?

Anyway, I just thought I'd share my day and leave you all something to think about. Feel free to share your thoughts on names or God or whatever in the comment section below; I'd love to know what you think.

I'm currently sat outside the library enjoying the cold air and waiting for rush hour to end so I don't need to squish into a metal tube with too many other people. I like my space.

Ooh talking about the underground, I've handed out a few more business cards today and gave my friends some to pass on! The group is growing faster with each day =] Be sure to get involved!

Video: Emperors New Clothes

Hey hey,

I got around to recording a poem, finally! So here, check it out =]




I have found out my exam timetable now too! Scary stuff! But I will be all wrapped up by the 2nd of June! Then that's it. Forever. Oh God.

Roar!

I want to apologise for being absent from the posting, but I wont. I spent Monday through to Wednesday of this week studying, trying to get an economics essay for my Marxism class done. Wore myself out though, so didn't do any work yesterday, which is definitely a shame. I'll make up for it today (before I go see Alice in Wonderland tonight!), hopefully.

There is a boy in my philosophy class that was telling me how he get's his work done. Basically, he switches the parts of his brain that functions like a normal human and enters study mode. Aim seems to be to turn himself into a boring (but focused) person for the day. I am actually really jealous of his ability to do this. Focusing isn't something I've ever been very good at... unless I'm playing video games; I can focus on those pretty well - for hours. I remember sitting up through out the night playing on my Super Nintendo instead of sleeping. Now I wont allow myself a games consol in the house... my brother took the ps2 to his house, far far away and I stopped my mum getting me a ps3 for Christmas, just 'cause I know I'd never get anything done.

Trouble is, there's still enough to distract me from working. Normally, I need a 'beat-myself-up-day' which involves me sitting in front of the Mac, staring at the work I have to do and just not touching it until I'm angry enough at myself for being so ridiculous that I start reading and taking notes. The next day or two are the reading and planning days. Once I've started I'm normally ok and can carry on for ages, especially with my old friend, Mr Caffeine helping me out. But then I'm tired and stressed and need a nothing day all over again before the process can loop round for me to actually do the writing part. I'd love to just skip those nothing days... They're such a waste of time! Other people can study every day, all day. Why can't I?

If anyone knows the trick to this whole taking control of your mind malarky, let me in on it!

Will power is a strange concept I reckon. Basically it's the faculty that picks what it is that I want and it decides what I want based on the information about the options that are stored in my intellect. But everything has positives and negatives so it's not a clear cut decision... so how is it the will picks which one it wants to go for? The will is just part of me, so it's me that's picking and I imagine the choice is based on desire or something, right? So, what does that mean...?

What desire am I fulfilling by sitting around avoiding working? I know that I have the desire to not fail, but that's further away than my desire to avoid stress. Short term trumps long term. So my question to you, is how can I convince my brain to do what I want it to do and focus on those long term desires a little bit. At least for long enough to get these 9 essays done!

Right, that's enough from me. I shall return to this economics essay of mine!

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.

Poem: The Emperor's New Clothes

MC Angel asked me to rewrite a fairytale as part of this months Lyrical Challenge, so here's my piece.


The Emperor’s New Clothes

Pride is one of those things
That springs up to clip your wings
Or pull those strings that help with progress.
Pride will have you guessing
Before ever expressing a need for help
Or letting on that you’re lost.
Pride comes at a cost you’re never willing
To give into.
So one day, once upon a time
In a land far, far away
Or maybe just next door
There’s an Emperor who cares for nothing
But his bling. His style, his smile, his robes
Probe inquiry
And he loves the attention.
He loves it when you mention him
Or look at him with awe
He’d have a castle made of straw
If you’d adore him a little more.
So he hires two new weavers
Who promise him a suit
The finest ever made or worn
And never touched by man before.
It’s made from lace
Engraved with gold
And takes it’s place as they unfold
It’s made from special fabric
Designed to trick the kingdoms fools
See to them the suit’s invisible!
Too proud to admit that he can’t see shit
The Emperor dons his new attire
And speaks about its beauty
About its colours and design
As he swirls the courtroom naked
And he marches all the time
So the moral of the tale kids
Is to let go of any pride
Which leads to sheep mentality.
Somewhere after once upon a time
But before the happy after
Came a little boy
Too innocent to sense the rules,
Laughed.
He laughed and pointed
Soon disjointed, the crowd began to slack
And they all laughed and they all pointed
At the Emperors naked crack.





It was going to be based on The Red Shoes, but I couldn't write anything decent. So I picked a different story.

The other challengers of the night, Raymond Artbous who did Rumplestiltskin and  Sabrina Mafouz who did Little Red Riding hood were awesome! MC Angel did a take on Cinderella which was also amazing. Over all a fantastic evening and I think any of you lot in London should totally come next month!

Lyrical Challenge

I know! I suddenly suck at this frequent posting thing! I've been all distracted. I shall not be sharing stories of my distractions with you, as entertaining as they may be... Instead I'm going to give you a little update!


On the 9th I'm performing at Lyrically Challenged along side Sabrina Mafouz and Raymond Artbous

Passing Clouds, 

1 Richmond Road, 

London

E8 4AA

The night is run by a friend of mine known as MC Angel and the idea is that every month the poets are challenged to write a new poem. The theme of this months poem is fairytales so I'm going to do a take on The Red Shoes - Well that's the plan. So far I don't like anything I've come up with, so I may consider picking a different fairytale to try soon. 

I'm going to post the challenge to you lot. I want you to write me a poem based on a fairytale! Any fairytale you like =] 

I look forward to reading your responses! 

And if you're in London and you're free be sure to check out the event!  

Beat Procrastination!

I know you've stumbled over here expecting me to give you the holy grail and help you beat procrastination with some sort of magic trick. Unfortunately for you, I am hoping that since you've stumbled over here already, you'd give me the gold and tell me how I can beat it myself.

Thing is, I know there are like, tricks. Like breaking things up into manageable chunks for example. This is one that I do myself. For my essays, I read the bits I need to read and make notes, then make an essay plan, then first draft, then finalise it all. Only, the first draft part stumps me. Starting essays makes me a little anxious and I avoid it like it's poison or something. Once I've started and the ball has a steady roll going on I'm fine and I can sit and write and save myself a tiny bit from the mound of work I have to get through. But it takes me days to start.

I literally sit staring at it for days. I leave the window open all the time, so I can see it while I'm doing other things. Like this for example... I go to start it off, but can't seem to find the right words so I take a break and do something else. A lot of time is spent playing with photo booth, see Exhibit A above.

It seems to the rest of the world (well, ish - depends where they're picking my projection up from) that I'm projecting this super hard working ethic and that I don't leave my room or the library for mass amounts of time to study. Only most of that time I'm not really doing much.

So help me out. How do I go about starting?

The irony of this all is, that the essay I'm trying to write is that same weakness of will one I mentioned last week. I guess I'm a little weak willed myself? I guess that maybe I agree with Aristotle on the matter then rather than Socrates in saying that people can in fact know what the right thing is and be able to do it but still do something else. We do the thing we want to do, as a matter of opinion. It's the possibility of the incontinent person, who knows what is good but does wrong anyway because they lack self control required to resist licentious behaviour. It isn't just about being ignorant of certain things like Socrates suggested. Humans form bad habits and are constantly tempted to take pleasure in the wrong sorts of activities (Aristotle believed pleasure was a great thing - unlike Plato - and that we take pleasure from the right sorts of things). Our intellect and rationality do not have full control of our every action.

If there is a wallet on the floor with £100 in it I bet most people would pocket the money. Some people might even thank a god or two for the gift. But is taking the money wrong? Aren't you meant to hand wallets into police stations or something if you find them? Do you feel guilty for it?

I don't know. I'll keep thinking on this. But I guess I just found the solution to that procrastination problem after all...

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.

Rules For Story Writing

This is just a quickie, 'cause I'm mid study times and realised I hadn't posted since Monday.

I looked up the 7 types of story a while ago, after being told there are these set types of story and if a story doesn't fall into one of these 7 types it's going to fail. It becomes one of those stories that you feel didn't really tell you anything, when you get to the end.

I found 3 versions (take from that what you will)

NUMBER 1

‪1) ACHILLES - The almost flawless person, e.g. Superman.‬

‪2) CINDERELLA - The dream come true (e.g Dirty Dancing, Prerry Woman.)‬

‪3) CIRCE - The chase, e.g The Blues Brothers.‬

‪4) FAUST - Selling your soul to the Devil may bring riches, but eventually, you will belong to him, e.g. Wall Street‬

‪5) ORPHEUS - The loss of something personal, e.g. Regarding Henry, Farscape (think about John Crichton!)‬

‪6) ROMEO & JULIET - The love story, e.g. Sleepless In Seattle.‬

‪7) TRISTAN - X loves Y, but one or both are already spoken for, e.g. Fatal Attraction.‬

NUMBER 2

1. Overcoming the monster -- defeating some force which threatens...

e.g. most Hollywood movies; Star Wars, James Bond.

2. The Quest -- typically a group setoff in search of something and

(usually) find it. e.g. Watership Down, Pilgrim's Progress.

3. Journey and Return -- the hero journeys away from home to somewhere

different and finally comes back having experienced something and

maybe changed for the better. e.g. Wizard of Oz, Gullivers Travels.

4. Comedy - not neccesarily a funny plot. Some kind of

misunderstanding or ignorance is created that keeps parties apart

which is resolved towards the end bringing them back together. e.g.

Bridget Jones Diary, War and Peace.

5. Tragedy - Someone is tempted in some way, vanity, greed etc and

becomes increasingly desperate or trapped by their actions until at a

climax they usually die. Unless it's a Hollywood movie, when they

escape to a happy ending. e.g. Devils' Advocate, Hamlet.

6. Rebirth - hero is captured or oppressed and seems to be in a state

of living death until it seems all is lost when miraculously they are

freed. e.g. Snow White.

7. Rags to Riches - self explanatory really. e.g. Cinderella &

derivatives (all 27,000 of them)!!!

NUMBER 3

1. A hero – the person through whose eyes we see the story unfold, set

against a larger background.

2. The hero’s character flaw – a weakness or defense mechanism that

hinders the hero in such a way as to render him/her incomplete.

3. Enabling circumstances – the surroundings the hero is in at the

beginning of the story, which allow the hero to maintain his/her

character flaw.

4. An opponent – someone who opposes the hero in getting or doing what

he/she wants. Not always a villain. For example, in a romantic comedy,

the opponent could be the man or woman whom the hero seeks romance

with. The opponent is the person who instigates the life-changing

event.

5. The hero’s ally – the person who spends the most time with the hero

and who helps the hero overcome his/her character flaw.

6. The life-changing event – a challenge, threat or opportunity

usually instigated by the opponent, which forces the hero to respond

in some way that’s related to the hero’s flaw.

7. Jeopardy – the high stakes that the hero must risk to overcome

his/her flaw. These are the dramatic events that lend excitement and

challenge to the quest.

I just thought I'd share these tips with you, 'cause I know that some of my readers are writers themselves. I looked these up, because I started working on my own novel and figured it wouldn't hurt to do some research. I'd like to know your thoughts on these tips and if you've used them in your writing before.

The actual lists were just copied and pasted from somewhere. Unfortunately they were just pasted into my notepad and were never cited 'cause it was just for personal reference. But if you want to know who really owns those words, I'm sure it wont be too hard to find out. Massive props to them. 

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