Sunday, April 15, 2007

Bump goes the GIRL.

I got a real job and therefore have no time for anything, let alone writing. It's a job where I have strung about 2 sentences together since I got there. Its all math. And I am not a numbers person.

BUT it is money and I have been able to buy a new car to replace the 'princess,' it upsets me to part with her, but as they say all good times must come to an end. and as she is unwilling to let me drive her when others want a ride she has to go. So the new car will charismatically be named 'down boi' as he is a looker indeed.

I also have a cold and the thought of a 3 hr meeting tomorrow upsets me greatly.

Wednesday, January 17, 2007

Short Story No. 2

Who Am I Crying For, You or Me?

I have never felt this alone in my life. I look out across all the faces that are looking down at you. To me, one face seems to blur into another. For all I know they could be anyone. One of them is speaking I watch his lips move unable to make out what he is actually saying. It is as if I am watching television and the sound is muted.

All I feel is a deep pain in my chest that won’t go away. It won’t leave me. I’ve had this pain in my chest for the last week and I know it’s your fault. It’s your fault because you left me. Now I’m alone and I can’t breath. All I can think about is you and your face.

**************************************************

I heard the scream, the scream that wouldn’t stop. It’s ear piercing. I wanted to shout stop screaming, shut up! But I couldn’t because I now realised that it was me who was screaming. I had no control over what I was doing. I tried to stop what was happening, but I couldn’t. I turned to see your face. I have never seen you look like that, the fear in your eyes as you looked the other way and saw what I could see behind you. Then everything went dark!

**************************************************

I feel tears rolling down my face. This is the first time I haven’t ever felt anything other than the pain in my chest since it happened. But I know that I have stopped crying since I last saw you. I feel someone put their arm around me; I turn to look at them in hope that it might be you.

I watch the person mouth “We’re all here for you.” I can’t make out their face. I just see that their body is swamped in black. The only person that I want to be here for me is you. And where are you? Where are you when I need you? You’re gone. I’m angry at you for leaving me, but I’m more angry at myself for letting you leave me.

I feel the tears getting heavier rolling down my face. I’m not sure who these tears are for, myself because you left me, or for you? I feel selfish because the tears are for me. I’m the one left on my own, and everyone else is crying for you.

**************************************************

I woke up like an excited child on Christmas Day. It was our one-year anniversary. I had a magnificent day planned. After all I didn’t expect you to remember as you are a guy and from experience guys never remember dates. I was going to make it so special I had it all planned.

When you woke up I made you get ready super fast. I had already put everything in the car. You told me to wait in the kitchen while you just got something. So I did, and you walked back in with a little box wrapped up. It read “Happy 1st Anniversary.” You kissed me tenderly on the lips. Once I took off the gift-wrap the box read “Tiffany & Co” I opened it to find two diamond earrings. I couldn’t believe that you had actually remembered. I stood there in a state of shock not knowing what to say.

I looked out of the window at the snow, which was still there from last night, it was picturesque.

**************************************************

The weather is still cold now. We both loved the winter. Curling up by the fire together. But that is to be no more. I touch my ear; I still have the earrings in. I haven’t taken them out since the day you left me. I feel that they are the only things that are still keeping me close to you.

I’m shaking but I don’t think that it is because of the weather, as I’m wearing your big coat that I bought for you at the beginning of autumn. I can still slightly smell your aftershave on the collar. I probably look so stupid with it on. But who cares it’s not like I am trying to be the centre of fashion.

Everyone is wearing black after all. But it would be very disrespectful if they hadn’t of been.

I look around me to observe who is here and although I can’t make out any of their faces, I see that there are lots of people here, so obviously lots of people cared. They are all here for you. I wonder if it had happened to me, would there be this many people here? After all it should be me that they’re here to see not you.

**************************************************

After the blur had died down. I remember reaching over to you, grabbing your hand. Seeing all that blood I didn’t know if it was your blood or my blood. I didn’t care I just wanted you to say that everything was going to be ok.

I asked you if everything was going to be ok, but you didn’t respond. I couldn’t feel anything, no pain or anything, just the warmth of the blood that was all over my skin, all over your skin.

I could hear a woman saying something on the other side of the window; I couldn’t make out what she was saying. I started to shake your arm. I could feel panic rising up inside me. I heard the woman say not to move you, but I couldn’t stop shaking your arm. I didn’t know if I was moving it purposely or whether it’s because I was shaking from the shock and it making your arm shake as well.

But I just couldn’t let go of you. I never wanted to let go of you. I could hear sirens in the background. Everything sounded so busy around me. I couldn’t believe how much blood there was; your t-shirt was soaked in it.

Then I felt someone grab me. They were asking me questions, but I wasn’t sure what they were saying. They started to pull my hand off yours, but I wouldn’t let go. I screamed at them to stop, but they were saying things to me, which I didn’t understand. They eventually got me out.

I looked back at you and saw what had actually happened, how bad it really was. A man climbed in beside you, he was wearing green, so must have been a doctor, but I couldn’t really tell. The man that got me out took me over to the ambulance. I sat in it for a while, while he asked me questions, but all I could concentrate on was the man with you. It seemed like all of this was going on for ages. I just wanted you to get out and tell me that it was all a big joke, and that we can go home now.

I heard them saying things around you as they got you out and put you on a trolley. I watched them put a white sheet over you, but I thought it must have been because you were shaking from the shock of what had happened like I was. I ran over to you so I could hold you again.

But as I got closer I saw that the white sheet was covering your face. The man who was asking me the questions in the ambulance grabbed me as I fell to my knees and screamed, the tears streaming down my face.

**************************************************

Suddenly you start to move. I watch as your coffin is being taken behind the curtain. I start to scream, the person next to me is holding me back.

I find myself saying; “Don’t take him away from me. I can’t do it without him.” People are mumbling sentences to me, I can make out some of what they are saying, and he’s gone, are the words I recognise.

I look around me, for the first time that day I recognise a face. It’s his mother’s. She looks so sad; tears are running down her face.

I break free from the person holding me. I find myself saying to her, “I’m so sorry Mrs. Peterson, it’s all my fault. It should be me in that coffin, not him. It’s my fault.”

She looks at me with sadness in her eyes, “Don’t be silly Janine, it was just a tragic accident. And at least we still have you here with us, Andrew would have been glad of that.”

“But…”

“No buts, we’re just glad we still have you here.”

She won’t listen to me. It is my fault. If it weren’t for me, you would still be here with your family and me. It should be me in that coffin. I don’t want to be alive without you, especially knowing that it was me who killed you.

I watch as the last bit of the coffin goes behind the curtain. That’s the last time I will see you. I cling to the memory of me holding you in the car. The last time I would ever hold you.

**************************************************

I knew it was going to be the most perfect day ever. I had had it planned for weeks.

When you gave me my Tiffany earrings it just made it even more special because I really didn’t think that you would remember.

I decided not to tell you where we are going to, we both just got in the car. I had already packed a Champaign picnic in the boot.

I drove us to Hyde Park because it was the place we had meet at the year before, so I thought it would be perfect. The look you gave me was one of such love. I had never seen you look at me like that before, and I felt myself melt.

The picnic was as perfect as I had planned. It was made more romantic by all the snow around us. But we couldn’t really feel the cold because we had so many clothes on and were so loved up.

We both only drank one glass of Champaign because you said that you wouldn’t drink anymore because I couldn’t.

When we were getting into the car to drive home, you offered to drive, but I said no because this day was about you, you told me that it wasn’t about me but it was about both of us.

On the way home in the car I’d never felt happier in my life. The day up to that point had turned out better than I could have ever imagined.

On the way home I was thinking about how happy I was. I turned round this corner about a mile from our house, because we were so close to home I was driving a little faster than I should have been, especially as it was still icy on the road. I felt the wheels go from under the car. I tried to control the car, but I couldn’t, it just started spinning round onto the other side of the road. There was nothing I could do but scream.

**************************************************

It was my fault. I knew that the roads were icy. I should have been more careful. I just wanted to get home as quick as possible and now you will never come home again and it’s because of me.

I will never be able to forgive myself because I killed you and now here I am at your funeral watching all of your family having to say goodbye to you, because of me. I can’t get the image of the fear in your eyes before the truck collided into the side of the car. I doubt I ever will.

Thursday, January 11, 2007

Short Story No. 1

No Control For Manhood

It was an adult gig, over 18s. Which meant that I arrived too early, being used to kids who get there hours before the doors even opened. So it gave me just enough time to go to the bar next door and grab a beer. Once I finished my beer I decided that this was the ideal time and place to ‘get the party started.’ So it was off to the toilets for the acid trip that had been sat in my pocket waiting to happen.

I snorted as much as I physically could before my head started to buzz and I slumped to the ground. Getting back up was harder than I first imagined. I dragged my body forward and felt my hands slump against the wall, then gradually I climbed up it. Before I knew it my hands hit something hard, I looked up and saw that I was inches off the ceiling. It was as if my feet were stuck to the wall. I pushed myself backwards, and felt a slight thump as my back reacted with the floor.

There was to be no more Spiderman antics tonight, I was here to do a job and that was what I was going to do. So unsteadily I picked myself up from the urine smelling floor where I was lay, smoothed down my damp jeans and tee, before recklessly heading out of the door.

In my haze I had lost track of time, there were some people outside the venue but luckily they hadn’t started to let people in yet. I decided to find some people to talk to while I waited.

I approached the nearest people to me, it was a girl and a lad, the girl looked at me wearily, I wasn’t sure why, maybe it was because I was on my own and she thought that I was going to cling to them? I walked in the way that was towards them, but somehow I walked in a semi-circle around them and bumped into a group of girls, one of which grabbed my arm, as if she wanted me to steady her.

“Don’t worry ladies Spiderman time has been and gone.” I thought it was nicer to call them ladies than girls, it makes them feel mature and as if I appreciate them more. They all smiled at me through gritted teeth. “So anyway, I work for the band,” This was when my bullshitting started. None of them spoke, but their smiles were still there, so it was time to try the method which most girls took notice of. “Any chance you wanna come backstage with me later.” I watched as their eyes lit up, and their smiles beamed, it always worked. I told them all about my life with the band. I had these girls eating out of my hands. Five pretty girls, I was in heaven.

As the doors started to open and people moved themselves into an orderly queue. I laughed to myself at how polite people were being when really they just wanted to push each other out of the way to get to the best spot in the venue. To me it never mattered because my favourite spot was by the bar, as long as I had beer, my night was sorted. I lost the girls in the crowd, I shouted to no one in particular, “Yeah, find me later I’ll sort something out.”

As I walked inside the venue, the security guy looked me up and down; I smiled to myself because I knew that he was thinking if only I could look like him. I handed him my ticket. As I walked down the corridor into the venue I smiled to myself because in the mirror I could see the guy behind me, he looked kind of casual, just wearing jeans and a t-shirt, his hair was a bit messed up, and he looked like he was having trouble walking, his knees bent in a unnatural fashion as he stepped. I thought to myself wow that’s someone with too many drugs in their system. I span around to ask him a question, almost falling down, but he had gone. I stood there shocked for a while, people pushed past me almost knocking me over, so I carried on back down the corridor and inside the venue.

As I went to the bar, and noticed that the balcony was reserved for VIPs, so I thought to myself it’s worth a try.

The guy at the bottom of the stairs kept his eye on me as I approached him. I attempted to smile at him, while keeping my cool, but the scowl on his face stopped from doing so. “Alright if I go up there guv?” I thought I’d keep it simple.

“No VIPs only.” He looked straight past me; he obviously wanted to keep it simple too.

“Oh sorry, did I forget to say? I’m Pete, I do all the bands PR.”

“That’s nice for you, but this is pass only.” This guy was tough.

“I never got round to getting it, but I can see that it’s a problem for you, I mean I suppose it’s your job. I’ll give Paul a call but he’s gonna be pissed having to sort this shit out.” I got my phone out.

He looked a bit panicked, “No need for that, you can go up.” It always helped to do a bit of research before the gigs, it’s not what you know, it’s who you know as they say, or who people think you know in my case.

“Cheers,” I said as I swaggered up stairs. VIP. This is what dreams are made of.

Once I got up there I checked the view from the balcony, perfect I would be able to see everything without getting the occasional head in my way, or having someone push me in a direction that I didn’t want to go in. I went to the bar to get a beer. After I had swigged a bit of the beer, I decided it was time to take some more acid, the effects of my last trip were starting to wear off now, it had lasted me well though, but I needed more to last me through the gig. I put my beer down the ledge of the balcony before going to the toilet.

In the toilet there was another man in there, I didn’t recognise him from other shows or around town, I figured he must actually be with the band. He saluted me as I went into a cubicle.

I pulled the acid out of my pocket there wasn’t as much left as I had thought, but there was enough for me to have a good time. I snorted it in 2 lots. After the second lot my body slumped against the cubicle wall, there was a boom as loud as a car crash as the walls of the cubicle trembled, then the room shook, but I stayed where I was, nothing was going to move me.

I heard two slapping sounds, I assumed it was the aftermath of the boom, so I didn’t do anything, then I heard the same thing again followed by a voice, “Dude, are you ok in there?” I thought for a second that maybe it was the voice of god. Then I remembered the man who saluted me; it must have been him knocking on the door.

“Ha look at you,” the voice was coming from above me, surely it couldn’t be god. I looked up to see a toothless grin. If that was the face of god, then fuck me. Then a hand rose over the cubicle and saluted me.

I watched as what seemed like a white piece of paper floated down and landed on my lap. “Take this, Charlie makes everyone feel better.” With that the toothless grin was gone. I heard it singing “Charlie, Charlie, Charlie,” and then a door slammed and all was quiet again.

I picked up the piece of paper; thinking that it would have a phone number on or something, but it was a plastic pouch with powder in, this was the Charlie the grin was talking about.

I put the seat down of the toilet, got a card and note out of my pocket, lined the powder up, and then snorted 3 lines of it. It was the best coke that I’ve had in ages. I had no idea why the grin had given it to me. I got out of the cubicle and could hear the muffled sound of a band outside. I figured it must be the support band. I composed myself and zigzagged across the toilets to the door.

I spotted my lonely pint on the ledge where I had left it. I recognised the music playing which meant that it must have been the main band. Through my blurred vision I tried to focus on the lead singer, every time I would get close to focusing, he would move and I would lose it. All I could make out was a whole lot of hair and he seemed to have a keyboard in front of him. If my memory was working properly then that is what it was like last time I saw them. But I didn’t really want to trust my memory because it was more likely to be the memory of the acid, but the music just sounded so familiar.

I suddenly realised that my legs and arms were in overdrive. They didn’t seem to be working together; they just seemed to be working for themselves, trying to get all they could out of the situation. My head to was bouncing around to the sounds that I was hearing; there was no stopping me now. Even I couldn’t stop myself; I just had to go with whatever was happening.

In slow motion I watched as my right hand stretched out over the ledge, it hit my pint of beer, and there was nothing I could do as I watched it topple over the side, and disappear out of my sight. My arm was still stretching out, and then my hand was forced into the rock sign, as if I was watching a heavy metal band. The vilest sound came out of my mouth. It was as if I was a female girl who had seen their favourite pop idol. My stomach turned but the sound didn’t go away. Beyond the vile sound that I was making there was a smash and a bellowing scream, then the sound of movement. I was too concerned with my own body to really take notice.

I felt a flutter of feeling in my left arm, and thought that this would be a good time to take control of my body. I struggled to move my left arm, but once I had it free I was able to grab my right wrist. Fighting against my right arm not wanting to be drawn back in, eventually it snapped back into place.

I pulled so hard I felt an immense pain run through my jaw, and then heard a boom as I felt the balcony rumble beneath me. My eyes went out of focus for a couple of seconds, when I got my sight back I couldn’t see anything just a blank space and flashing lights. I could still hear the band. I felt something pressed up against my back, I tried to turn to see what it was, but my feet wouldn’t move me round, even though I was kicking them furiously.

Then the grin reappeared, the teeth were worse than I remembered, they were stained and crooked, it obviously had never heard of dental hygiene. I started to laugh to myself; I felt my body shaking at the intensity of my laughing. The grin got wider, “Good shit, hey?”

I suddenly stopped laughing but my body carried on shaking. “God shit, good shit, good shit.” The voice was going around in a circle. The grin disappeared and the voice trailed off with it. All I was left with was the sound of the band and a piercing screaming drilling through my ears. I wanted the screaming to stop, but it wouldn’t it just kept on going. The song finished, then the next one began and the screaming was still there, still ringing through my ears. And the band were a blank space, maybe it was part of their set. There was still something pressed against my back, but at least the grin was gone, gone with his irritating voice, gone with his vile teeth.

Then the eyes came, all watching me, looking through me, millions of eyes cast upon me. I started laughing again, more wildly with every second that past, it made the shaking worse and worse.

Fingers stretched out in front of me, I wanted to bat every single finger away from me, but my arms moved no further than my chest. The fingers wiggled as if to tempt me. They were distracting me. Maybe the fingers were part of the show, a new concept to the music; maybe they were just there to dance to the music.

Then the fingers closed around my arms and my body was flung through the air. Something hard hit the sole of my feet and my legs buckled under the weight of my body.

The fingers were still wrapped tightly around my arms. I felt them tugging at me, I looked down and I saw my legs being dragged across the floor. There was no way that I was dragging my own legs it must have been the fingers. I tried to speak but the only sound to come out of my mouth was a groan.

The fingers let me go, my face bounced off something cold and hard. I could no longer hear the band. I could only hear the sound of a siren in the distance, gradually fading. I watched as the ground in front of me turned a deeper red and I had a bitter taste sensation in my mouth. I tried to call out for the siren to come back, but all I could manage was to spit “Heealp mi,” as my head went fuzzy and the sound disappeared.

Sunday, December 03, 2006

Albert Hammond Jr


This is the story of a lonely Stroke, and his battle with the British Music Press. A rejected song by the Strokes, and 10 other songs later, can this Stroke prove that he is not merely a New York Fashion god, but also a performer in his own right?


To see a Stroke in such intimate enviroment is rare for England, even news of secret gigs travel on the horizon until the whispers turn into shouts and scenesters line the street outside the venue in the hopes they just might get in. So when news of Albert Hammond Jr and his solo tour hit the pages of NME and tickets didn't sell out instantly there was a slight air of worry. Did people just not believe in him? Or are the Strokes fans only there for Julian? Regardless of this, there was a certain degree of excitment, the fact that the man himself, guitarist in The Strokes really did have to prove himself to his public. Would he be able to put a voice to his face?


His band is made up of Albert himself on vocals/guitar, Josh Lattanzi on Bass, Matt Romano on drums, then they have called in the additional help of Marc Phillippe Eskenazi on guitar/keys, and Steve Schiltz on guitar for the tour. Albert's sound is almost endearing, being much more mellow than most Strokes fans are used to, however in the music you can hear the influence of the early Strokes sound. But would the music that he has created on the LP be able to transcend to the live stage.

When the band actually take to the stage, in the tiny venue which is the Rescue Rooms in Nottingham, armed with plastic cups filled with their drink of choice for the night, the crowd cheer as if to show their acceptance of the lone stroke.

Armed with his infamous Fender Strat, Abert & co kicked into In Transit, possibly the best opening song, as it is well known from The Strokes, In Transit DVD and has caused a stir due to The Strokes declining it as one of their songs to go on the album (but in all honestly the simplicity of the song would be ruined if it had been a Strokes song due to the over-compensating voice of Julian). This was a great song to warm up the crowd with, and let just say that this crowd definately needed warming up, as they seemed as alive as ............. during The Pierces set.

Monday, October 30, 2006

Who is the one and only?

Life's a bitch then you fond out that you have to work for a living. New job started today, it was sort of like BLAH. That's pretty much all I heard all day. I like to think that I'm a quick learner however in this case I think I'm going to be shown that I'm actually pretty slow. Tomorrow's another day towards the final goal tho, time will tell as they say. Contemplating whether to tell them of my adventure on 27th December, but will they sack me is the question? and I think the answer will probably be yes. So therefore when the time comes for my adventure, I might just unexpectably quit. PLAN OF ACTION.

I need to make some time in my busy social life to go to Manchester and visit the girlies, however this is proving hard as everybodies life plans clash in typical fashion. So I think I will leave it for a while. See where time takes me.

Halloween tomorrow, and the night before my brothers 18th, it crazy how fast he has grown up, I still think that I'm 18, maybe I should actually get to grips with the fact that I am not, the only place that my age is going to be an advantage is on my adventure, because the fact I can drink beer is always a positive in my mind. So my holloween plans were to walk the cat dressed as a pumpkin, I've now been put off the idea because the cat is regarded as a terrorist, and I think he WOULD terrorize the children, the BRUTE.

The whole photography thing is winding me up at the moment because I still haven't bought a camera and I wanted to go to Blackpool to take photos of lights and tack, but without a camera that is pretty hard, and hmmm the lights go off in 4 days, buggared is the word. I might go to some other beach maybe actually go and visit my friend in Brighton, I like the thought of that.

The sky's the limit as they say!

Wednesday, October 25, 2006

They tell you you're a saint, but really all you want to be is a sinner..

This year has been a good and bad year, good, I finally finished education, bad, when you have been in education for 17 years what the hell do you do with your life? People ask me what I want to do, and when I say well I want to be a writer you see that pained look on their face, like poor sole they have no clue about the real world. Like when you were in high school and they'd say to you "have you decided what you want to be yet?" and you'd be looking in a book 10x the size of you, and you'd say "well I'd quite like to be a doctor, you know I wanna help people". They turn the page and say "perhaps you should look at becoming a nurse then, it might be more in your reach." You just wanted to scream at them, "IF I WANTED TO BE A FUCKING NURSE I WOULD HAVE TOLD YOU THAT."

That's my life now, people saying well maybe you should do that and this and some other shit I quite frankly couldn't give a flying crap about. I understand that to say I want to be a writer is like saying that I want to become an actress, you basically will never have any money unless you hit it big time. And why is it when I tell people that I want to be an writer they automatically say "so you think you can be the next J.K.Rowling?" No actually I don't, sure she has done very well for herself, but thats a totally different genre than I want to go into. I want to write and for it to maybe reach a few people maybe change their lives, give them a new perspective on things. It's not about the money, I just want to do something that I love and as long as I can live comfortably doing it then I'm happy.

I also think I'm gonna take a part tiem photography class, my younger brother came home the other day and was like so you wanna see my photography, that I got a B for (A Level), i was like sure, some friends of mine had seen and said it was amazing, so I'd wanted to see it for a while, and the little bugger had 8 photos in the display, only 4 of them I had took, he stole them off my ibook in a mad panic the night before his assignment was in. I was in total shock. So they must have been alright, as that was half of his project. A photography class could be a good thing, writing and photgraphy go hand in hand, right?