Archive for the ‘the fairer sex’ Category

owen ashworth knows what’s up

Apr 12, 2009 2 comments

I can’t even write a post about her.

‘Cos she reads my blog. Yeah, she reads my blog.

Categories: the fairer sex

i fucking hate beholders

Feb 22, 2009 Leave a comment

I guess it’s somewhat obvious that I’m not in much of a writing mood these days, eh? This goddamn writer’s block (or something) is getting to me. I need to write—for class, mainly, but also because, well, I just like to write—and it sucks that I can’t. And all the stuff I wrote recently for that project of mine seems much worse a few weeks on. And even if it’s not bad, I can’t seem to get into that same groove once again. Everything I write these days just seems really lame in comparison. The fact that I’m out of ideas isn’t helping, of course. I could, of course, plagiarise from a handful of short stories and blend everything together into a new story, but I can’t even do that, it seems. Someone downclocked my brain or something.

I also have to get working on the design for my Creative Writing 2 group project, which is, basically, a ‘zine. Somehow I have a feeling that people don’t share my taste for dark-coloured text on plain, light-coloured backgrounds. I’m a simple man, what can I say. And one who doesn’t have much of an eye for design and/or fashion.

I also met… no, scratch that, “met” is too generous. “Hung out with?” Yeah yeah, that’s better.

*clears throat*

I also hung out with this girl (in a group, OF COURSE) the other day. I’d be lying if I said she wasn’t good-looking. I’d also be lying if I didn’t mention that I am, if only remotely, interested. I wouldn’t be lying (and might be some sort of modern-day Nostradamus), however, if I said that she’s probably another one of those girls that interests me but whom I’ll never actually do anything about. For various reasons (that I’m sure no-one: A) wants to read about and B) gives a fuck about).

Do you want me to whinge about how I’m far too negative and how I often ruin perfectly good things—and perfectly possible possibilities—with said negativity? Do you want to read a sleep-deprived, not-going-to-be-teenaged-for-long boy whinge about how much he really dislikes some—ok, many—things about himself? Do you want to read the sort of pathetic drivel I can churn out during my more emo moments (as if these previous two paragraphs weren’t pathetic enough)?

Fuck no, right?

So yeah.

Categories: the fairer sex, thoughts

get going cowboy!

May 3, 2008 Leave a comment

I’m done with exams. Can’t say I’m incredibly enthused, but it is a slight relief to have that shit over and done with. Shame I couldn’t end my exams on a high note (my Introduction to Literature 2 exam today was quite crappy) but it doesn’t really matter regardless. I’m done, and I have a glorious 18 days of nothingness to look forward to. Well, 15, actually, since I have some tentative plans for three of those 18 days. Art for Grabs at Annexe tomorrow, Metal Camp gig at MCPA on Sunday, and that Harmonic May Rockerstra gig at MCPA on the 11th.

It’s a near given that I won’t be improving on last semester’s results, and I’m quite sure that they’ll be a significant bit worse than last semester’s 3.55 GPA. How much worse exactly, though, is anyone’s guess. I certainly don’t know (and you wouldn’t expect me to, right?), but if I did then it wouldn’t be fun, now would it?

No, no it wouldn’t. Suspense. Killed. Boring much?

I finished reading Toyofumi Ogura’s Letters from the End of the World tonight, and I have to say that it is a great book and worthy of anyone’s time. The author’s prose is simple but direct and conveys the horrors, chaos and destruction of the bombing of Hiroshima quite wonderfully. The fact that it’s basically a series of letters to his late wife, Fumiyo (they were actually written as letters and only later compiled into a book, from what I gather), makes it that bit more emotional and human. The letter recounting his late wife’s battle with and eventual death from radiation sickness really moved me, as did the diary entries of his daughter Kazuko in the appendix, which also (later) dealt with Fumiyo’s sickness and death. Moving, powerful stuff.

Want to see for yourself a side of the bombing that textbooks and teachers will never really be able to teach you? Read it.

I also finished reading the book Like Shaking Hands with God, which is a transcript of conversations between Kurt Vonnegut and Lee Stringer. Thoughtful stuff, and almost essential for anyone interested in writing as a reader or even as a writer (which is me, I guess). I will admit, though, that reading it did give rise to some more doubts within my already doubt-filled mind. Self-doubt is my constant companion, as I’m sure some of you know.

Read more of Burroughs’ Naked Lunch while listening to Naked City’s Heretic, Jeux des Dames Cruelles album, and I have to say, the two fit together quite well, to an extent. It’s fucked up, Naked Lunch is. Really fucked up. The blurb on the back doesn’t lie when it says that the book is “probably the most shocking novel in the English language”. If you get the chance to, read it and see. I actually, somehow, quite like it. If only for the fact that it makes me seem just that bit more odd, dislikable and pretentious. And that’s always good!

Also, there’s this girl (as one might have ascertained via this post having a label saying “the fairer sex”) that I hardly know (I don’t even know her name for christ’s sake) that I’m… somewhat attracted to. As in, I want to get to know her better. I’m curious about her, which doesn’t happen often, boy or girl. Which is all fine and dandy, really, but as one might expect my ever-present self-doubt makes me doubt if I can even muster up the balls to actually strike up a conversation with her whenever we bump into each other again. I should at least get her name, dammit! And somehow there’s this lingering feeling that it’s once again The Wrong Person. Haha. Well, fuck, get to know her first man.

(I mentioned how I didn’t know what anyone could possibly see in [little ‘ol three-chord] me to a couple of my friends, and they said the same thing: I’m a nice guy. Which is great, yeah, but I can’t help but feel that it’s not going to be of much help. For whatever reason.)

I’m too lazy to go back and add this new label to my previous posts about this subject (that, and I can’t really recall which ones are about this subject) so I guess that this post will be the first one to carry this label. Sure as hell won’t be the last, if my track record is anything to go by. Expect a post in which I whinge about being a coward and not having the balls to talk to her soon!

(Photo post tomorrow, perhaps.)