'And all my armour falling down in a pile at my feet...'

'And indeed there will be time
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,
Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.'

Drums like heartbeats

Last week a colleague and I took some people to a club called Jumpin' Jacks. It was their learning disabilities night and it was PACKED. The moment that pumping music with your bog-standard basic beats (you know, the usual pop/club crap) started thumping out of the speakers, people's bodies began moving. Now several of the people there were really quite advanced with their disability and had no communcation skills whatsoever but they still felt the music and moved their bodies to it, almost involuntarily...and it got me thinking of when I hear a winding, sexy eastern drum beat, or a full-on inyerface metal drum solo: my hips can't help but move. It just goes to show that however detached or attached we are from our own societies, we are still truly 'as one' sometimes, and it also goes to show how fucking amazing music is and how if there has been anything close to miraculous during our thousands of tumultuous years on this doomed planet...then that thing is music. Melodies like blood running through veins. Drums like heartbeats.

So, things have been strangely shit and strangely awesome. Everything is black and white all at the same time. Some new things have happened, and some things that are all too familiar and old. It depresses me how clinically people look at things sometimes.

Also, it's all a bit new and strange to trust someone instantly in that way. Am I foolish? Or just lucky? He has a beautiful heart which kind of...shines. I'm used to hearts of all different colours, but not shiny ones! That probably makes sense only to me...shut up Joanna. Strange how it all happened. How he crept inside my head without me really knowing. Sneaky little shit.

The days move a bit too slowly at the moment; it can be frustrating waiting for depleted energies to creep back into the blue. But I need to look after myself. And that I shall do.

Louis Wain's descent into madness and psychosis: fascinating how indicative this simple set of images is of how our view of things around us can become blurred and obscured so very easily...

'Doubt seperates people. It is the poison that disintegrates friendships and breaks up pleasant relations. It is a thorn that irritates and hurts.'

Dynamics change. People behave strangely. Things slip through fingers. Things fall apart.

Oftentimes the best things in life destroy themselves from the inside.

Gushing is nature's way of celebrating excess. That's my excuse anyway.

It's Easter. And I don't care about Easter. Or Zombie Jesus. Have that.

Today happiness sounds like:
Camille O'Sullivan.
and
King Diamond.
Just so you know.

I have had an endoftheweek full of musical goodness. Thursday saw Khthon battle it out for their Bloodstock chances and I must say I actually quite enjoyed the dooooooooomness of it all. Needless to say they won and are now in the semi-finals. Well done Mr. Doomwizard \m/. Then Friday was the Electric Circus: another amazing night...probably the best yet actually. Even if the local riverside Gnats feasted heartily on my upper thighs *sigh*. (And check out the awesome review: Click or die.) Dogtown burst my eardrums (in a good way). Then Brides of Rain soothed and excited my soul to the point where my hips, in the end, actually had a mind of their own; sway, sway, jiggle, grind. The metal and ethnic drumming, melodies that lift you away to other lands and planes, the texture of their sound, and the spirit and energy that they weave just takes me right to my primal core.

Which perhaps brings me to say how proud I am of my amazing friends. James and Kevin, not only are you the two best friends anyone could ever wish for but you are also two of the most creative and talented people I have ever met. You never fail to inspire me. I won't gush too much...when I moved back to Kent I was apprehensive about whether I would settle back into an old circle of friends or whether I'd be bored of the area again straight away. There were big chunks of myself that I thought had died, never to return. And James (and very recently Kev alongside him) brought them back to life. No matter what happens, who lets me down, where I am headed in life, I can always count on you two for continued support, encouragement, ABSOLUTE understanding, hours of hysterical laughter, intellectual stimulation (*snigger*), honesty (to the point of bluntness...not that I can talk :p), in-jokes, patience, and a comfort I have never had with friends before, and never thought possible. You keep me from that slow boat to China. We're like the guys from A Home At The End of The World. Except I promise I won't have a baby and then fuck off.

Also worthy of note: it isn't wise to attempt to step on a Scorpio. Because we sting.

Try getting a policeman in an envelope. You'll see what I mean.

Well, well, well...it's been quite some time Mr. Blog, has it not?

Before we start, I would just like to say that Killing Joke make life better. There is no question or argument about it. They just do.

So in short, my last month and a half has consisted of lovely days in London (a pub with a tree in it and that sells Kopparburg - what more could a girl wish for?); a sponsored walk for Autism in Richmond Park (I raised over 80 quid - get in!), several Brass Band concerts all over ze places (one of which we travelled to in a fish van...yep, a van made of fish...or so it smelt. Grim.); nice family times with the best sisters, brothers, and niece and nephews in the world EVER - fact; Elgar's Dream of Gerontius in Maidstone, Carol's leaving 'do', many evenings and nights at Kev and Shell's having a ruddy blast! Don't mind if I do!; Bluewater (yuk); making lovely new doomy friends; swimming; dinner parties; and knuckling down into some artwork properly. Good and proper. Yes.

Alsooooo, The Electric Circus happened, so's it did, with Brides of Rain who simply made the night glitter and shine and dazzle: I got lost in the wonderful mixture of modern and ancient sounds created by some very talented local musicians. I am not feeling very poetic today, I'm afraid, so you won't get any magical descriptions about them just yet. No sir! Anyway, here they are: Clicky McClickerson - Brides of Rain

I am a big spluttering sicky today which explains the fact that I actually have time to update my blog. Ooh and to create a Twitter account. Which I will undoubtedly use intensely for a week and then forget all about.

Here, have some music:

Nice bit of social commentary there. Well done Polly.

Ciao!

What would I be without my friends?

My friends. My amazing friends. They enrich my life and bring me joy daily. And I'm the luckiest girl alive to have the people in my life that I do. Thank you.

Titles are for wimps and posers. And mice.

During the early noughties I would update my blog almost every day. On one hand, the fact that I no longer do this is a good indication that my life is busy and buzzing and bustling and any other 'b' synonyms you can think of. On the other hand, I find myself sitting here after two weeks of activity wondering how I'm going to sum everything up in a relatively coherent and/or interesting way. Don't get me wrong: I do mainly write these blogs for myself to look back on, but whoever is reading it (even if that is me in ten years) needs to be entertained to some degree, otherwise...well....I suppose my litle brain concludes that that would make the writer boring. And frankly, I can't think of much worse than being boring. Rape? Pah. Mass Genocide? Kid's stuff. Justin Beiber?....okay, maybe he is worse than plain boringness.

Shut up and get on with your update, dickhead.

I've had a day out with my Father: we went for lunch in Ash, walked around Hartley (where my dad told me about my great-grandfather who died from being kicked in the testicles by a cow. Don't tell me not to laugh. It won't work. That is just funny. I give you permission to laugh also, dear reader), and showed me where he went to school in Gravesend. Whilst in Gravesend he told me a story of an old woman who lived on the corner by the quay: she used to shout at all the schoolkids walking past, and angrily shake a wooden spoon or various other kitchen implements at them. This is also funny. Though I was somewhat disappointed to learn that she did not throw poo or manky cats at them. Mad old women come in various forms though. It is important to remember that.

I've attended a Zumba class. Hmm. Yeah but no.

'We're kissing the lips of strangers 

we're hugging whoever next we meet
Oh life, I love you to my bones'  

Sadly said goodbye to the best Manager I've ever worked for. I am sad to see Carol leave. She was like a strong tower in the middle of a field of forlorn jesters and manic goats. I don't really know about the jesters or the goats actually....the tower just made my imagination spiral. I like the imagery however, so I'm going to keep this metaphor, however innacurate it might be. So there.

'Man, everything's just so simple

when you're laughing until your face is sore

Oh life, I love you to my bones'

Spent the most wonderful two days in London. Rob Zombie (hell yeaaaah!), fantastic new friends, lunch and wine in Covent Garden (during which, James and I looked at each other and both said that this is what life should be like all the time. And it's true. Because we're the best), chainsaw jugglers with pink pants, drinks on the Southbank, hotel room visitors (no, no hookers - I am referring to the MOUSE. Yes, the mouse), then back home to relaxy times and visits to the Fluff-monster's flat of doom and cats and japes. I felt free and my spirit was completely at ease for the first time in months. I am free when shackled to the road (thanks Frank). Sadly, it all had to finish and I ended up having a shitwanking day at work. Still. I don't care enough to winge about it so that's all you need to know. And no, I'm not in trouble! I 'have my head screwed on'. To which my father replied 'yes, it's just the wrong way round'. Thanks Daddy!

'I've got punch lines and fisty-cuffs
and tons and tons of love'

Yeah, life. We like it. This is one of the songs that sums up my week (ironically it's by Wallis Bird who James randomly bumped into at the bar at the Rob Zombie gig. Well, that was unexpected.).This is dedicated to all my lovely friends who made my week so fantastic. And to life. To life. L'Chaim!

Lots of girls don't like me.

This is fine.

'There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle: the other is as though everything is a miracle.'

Someone PLEASE give me a link for a website that sells decent heavy metal t-shirts for girls. I'm sick of modifying all my man-shaped ones. And I mean decent heavy metal band t-shirts....as a girl it seems the only bands I am expected to like are Nightwish, Green Day, and fucking HIM. Fuck. Off. We're not all dribbling Twilight and Kerrang junkies! SOME OF US ARE INTO THE GOOD STUFF YOU KNOW! I do not like Avenged Shitfold or Buttlick for my Valentine. All I want in life is a lovely King Diamond 'Abigail' t-shirt. Is that really too much to ask for? :(

I suppose it's about time for an actual update. I have a headache but seeing as you're all a bit special (do I mean that in a good or a bad way? That's for me to know, ahah!..) I'll recap my last couple of weeks. Just a bit.

Here you are:
+ I have had uber-relaxy, family, Abigaily-birthday times in Reading. That weekend made me realise that my family life is exactly how I've always wanted it to be: fun, relaxing, and smiley. Then I did the same thing in Wolverhampton with other family-types and lovely friends, all of whom I miss muchly. Pubs. Dinners and lunches out. Lots of giggles. Crazy dogs. Awesome kids. Sarah-times (FINALLY! And much needed, might I add!). My little Benathon making me dress up as a sheep (in his aged-5 sheep costume! That's right): the things I do for that boy.

+ I attended the third Electric Circus with the best band line-up yet. Dogtown, Datura, and Cavalcade. I danced my little heart out, met some new cool people, and laughed a lot. I also got lost in the music of Cavalcade, as always.

+ Obee's birthday party in Rochester: I haven't laughed that much in a long time. Much hilarity took place. Which I have on camera - that's right Natalie, I'm looking at you! Sexy cocktails. Getting to know the lovely Caroline a bit better.

+ Smashing giggle-times with James and Zak. They're my homies.

+ Trips all over London visiting some of my grandparents' properties and the exact spot where my Father proposed to my Mother. I never met my grandparents so it was all a bit interesting to get a glimpse into who they were and what their lives had been like. Also, I now want to live in a posh London townhouse. Claaaaassy!

This has been a shallow entry. (Ooh err!)

Have some music: (please ignore the cheesey picture. I just have to put this piece of music out there. Yes.)