It’s all gonna be so much better

I just wanna let you guys know that I fulfilled a big fat dream I’ve had since I was about 14. That’s an almost 10 year old dream that I’ve FINALLY fulfilled.

I saw Poets of the Fall.

Yeah. Anyway, now that I’ve gotten that out of the way, did I tell you I finally saw Poets of the Fall?

Let’s begin. P.S I’m like a giddy little girl who finally saw her favourite band ever. (Yeah, don’t talk about HIM unless you want me to cry).

So world mental health day was the other day, and I’m always a bit iffy when it comes to the ‘narrative’ on mental health. Said narrative nowadays is always surrounding the ‘destigmatisation’ of mental illness, and I don’t agree with it. I’ve spoken about this time and time again, I’m always thinking about it, I wrote my dissertation on it;  destigmatising mental illness is a bad thing. I think it’s a horrible, dangerous, erasing thing. Destigmatising mental illness essentially means to make it “normal”, and mental illness is anything BUT normal. The idea is good – make it easier to talk about. But it’s all gone in the wrong direction; making it ‘normal’, making it something that everyone and anyone has, makes it harder for people who are actually suffering to speak up. There is nothing normal about a mental illness, the same way there’s nothing normal about tuberculosis or gangrene.

Social media sites make it even worse. I get that we’re a generation of self depreciating folk. I get it. Teenagers are depressed and this economy makes them want to kill themselves; we’re all anxious and we’re all a mess. But the schizophrenic kid reading all these memes about depression isn’t going to feel comfortable getting help, because even in a world where everyone is mentally ill, they’re still psycho.

I guess I’ve always had this thing about psychotic illnesses being left out of every single narrative on mental health, and therefore the narrative cannot be complete. You can’t just romanticise the mental illnesses that are easier to have and deal with. Don’t fucking romanticise any at all. Anxiety isn’t cute, depression isn’t edgy, bipolar disorder isn’t something you can switch on and off whenever you feel like it. Not in reality, anyway.

So yeah, I once again have a few not-so-little things to say about Mental Health and here they are.

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Damn what a pity fam [10 hard truths]

Haha, is that me?

I’ve been so busy recently, but at the same time… not. I’ve been speaking to more people, landing myself in new situations and, more often than not, have been increasingly finding myself staring into an imaginary camera. Some days I’m Jim. Other days I’m Michael. But most days I’m Jim. I am, however, always Patrick Bateman… And Dwight.

There are things I believe that I thought were common sense, but obviously not. I quit my job, I reconnected with people, I decided I was gonna be done with bullshit once and for all, and, as of recently, have decided to become the me I always tried to be. Uncensored and transparent. You thought you liked me before, wait till you see me now!!!!!!!

So I guess this post is inspired by the reason I have so many frown lines, and the reason I look into the aforementioned imaginary camera. Sometimes you just want to pick someone up and shake them and scream ‘I JUST WANT WHAT’S BEST FOR YOU’ but you can’t because you’re 5″2, so you have to settle with a rant on WordPress.

Let’s go, the clock is ticking.

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Sick entertainment but I’ll bet it feels good [5 Things I learnt falling off a treadmill]

Yes, hello. I am back after > a two month long hiatus with an embarrassing story for you, because we’re all guilty of a bit of schadenfreude and I wanna make you happy.

It finally happened to me, my worst gym nightmare. I did fall off the treadmill. I was sprinting, got distracted by my falling phone, lost my step, and was flung backwards.

Yes, in hindsight I should have said bun the phone and stopped first, but I did not. I decided to be a big man and look where it got me? With a fat scar on my chin.

Shit happens. And it will happen to you.

It will happen to you. It will definitely happen to you. Especially when you think it never will. So firstly:

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But strawberries and cigarettes always taste like you

Shout out to whoever commented on my last post. If a writer falls in love with you, you can never die.

Yes.

It’s true, unfortunately. But we don’t have to fall in love with you; if we anything you, you can never die. This post isn’t about love. I need a break from that, I gotta come back down to reality for a sec. We don’t have to fall in love with you for your legacy to live on.

If we love you, if we’re in love with you, if we notice you, if we hate you, if we’re slightly annoyed by you, if we met you once, or if we walked past you in Tesco in every single aisle, and then again at the checkouts, and then again when we were leaving the shop, and then we drove past you when leaving the car park, and then we saw you at work the next day and you smiled a little wider. Part of you will live on in something – a title, a character, a metaphor, an idea.

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Writer baby, you could be the quote [Love, pt. 2]

[Shitpost – 4:30am]

They say the only people awake at this hour are the lonely and the loved, but I’m here because my caffeine buzz is wearing off and I wish I was in love. Right now I feel like I am, but with no one in particular, possibly someone who doesn’t exist, and it’s frustrating. Why am I talking about love so much? Everyone around me is getting into relationships, getting married, and, honestly, being single is getting boring real quick. But I also see people getting into the wrong relationships and just generally being unhappy; I’m tryna stress how important a foundation is. No more time wasting. I only want something if it’s real.

My state of mind right now is equivalent to being intoxicated in some way, so it’s about to get real raw and embarrassing. I feel high. I’m also listening to old J Cole and Miguel and I feel like aunt flo is about to visit, so my head is a real shitstorm right now. Soppy bitch mode currently turned on full blast.

The sun’s about to rise and I’m not tiptoeing around my thoughts; when everything is silent and still, we’re forced into introspection, we have to face everything about ourselves head on. It’s painful, it’s liberating, there’s something sublime about it. I’ve dashed anxiety out of the window, focused too much on being happy with myself and, in the process, forgot to really get back into my head. Not trying to fall back into bad habits, but here we are. I got me up all night, down and out with these love songs. Can’t lie, I missed this.

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Something that she ain’t seen yet [Hey Assbutt: Love, pt.1]

I can’t believe how long it’s been since I’ve done a hey assbutt, aka one long bullshit rant. I guess I’ve kind of gotten my shit together in the sense that I don’t have the time to complain anymore, but alas; this part of me will continue to thrive.

Let’s talk about the L word. We all like to think about and not talk about the L word. We all like to talk about and not think about the L word. The L word is a stressful thing. I’m gonna do it.

To avoid confusion, I’m talking about ~romantic~ love. Gonna bump some MJ and begin.

Honestly, what even is love?

Platonic love is simple. One of the strongest feelings ever, because you don’t even have to like the person to love them, to care about them, to want the best for them and to be there for them always.

Romantic love is more annoying, but I haven’t properly felt it. I once thought I did, but in hindsight, I was terribly, inconceivably, dangerously wrong and it makes me nauseous. I have a good idea of what it is, and I would love to confirm it, but I’m not about to risk my heart for the wrong person. I, too, am cringing at the soppiness of that sentence so I’ll bring it down a notch right about now.

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Let me tell you something [How to genuinely improve your shitty life]

When will someone nominate me for the Worst Blogger award?

The devil really is locked up because I’ve just written a blog post after two months of nothing. Not a single word.

I guess I’m supposed to include an update of my life here, except I’m not going to because when do I ever do that? Also I’m yawning and my eyes hurt and I’m sick. If you want to see me rant, my twitter is available for you to view all the thoughts I could and should have kept to myself. I’m at a weird point in my life, though. Super inspired but super unmotivated. Super happy, but super nonchalant. Super ready to be an adult, but.. yeah. In a weird limbo where the pieces of my puzzle are just hovering above me, waiting for me to give them the go ahead to just drop into place. Not yet tho, I’m not done being a fuck up.

I’m not worried, though. My skin is shit, but I’m not worried. My life isn’t any better on paper at all, but in my head, it’s all rosy. My mental health was suffering last year, and anxiety is now but a distant memory. It’s weird to think that I had a prescription for antidepressants that I, thankfully, didn’t collect. I went to a gig alone. I cut my hair. I give people chances. I now go with my gut instead of overanalysing every little thing. I say yes more. I say no more. I’m a whole other person. And I wanna tell you how I did it, starting with this post.

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No world’s tiniest violin song [Things I don’t fuck with]

Hello, I haven’t posted in almost two months because I am useless. But I’m here now, making a comeback in the most fitting fashion – by complaining.

Let me give you a little update, though, particularly on the little subject  that is my brain. I feel like after making some changes a few months ago (that I may or may not write a post on soon), I’ve become a completely different person. I am so positive, overall a lot happier with myself and life in general and it’s siq. I have adopted the attitude of ‘shit happens, life goes on’, as opposed to my previous ‘pick apart and analyse every single thing that has gone wrong ever, and do this until I go crazy’.

But the only thing is that I’m buzzing with all this positive energy and nobody to share it with. I’m finding myself craving some emotional connection somewhere, not necessarily romantic (and I’m trying to find it over a zoot). More often than not I have this strong desire to just sit and talk. Just talk and listen. Mostly listen. It’s not that myself isn’t enough, it’s that I literally have all this extra happiness going to waste, you know? If I could clone myself, I would. Science side of wordpress, make it happen.

But for now, let me stop being a soppy bitch and bring it back down to reality.  It’s not all rainbows and Nando’s, because shit pisses us all off in real life. I’m gonna tell you mine in the hopes that you never bring them my way, thanks x

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23 things I’ve learned in 23 years

 

I’m so old.

I mean I don’t really care. I feel like I’ve been old for a while now, but it’s so weird finding out that someone is 17 and realising they’re a whole hecking 6 years younger than me. I can’t believe people born in 2000 will be 18 this year, that’s so weird, they’re supposed to be babies??? Now that I’m really rooted in in my 20s, I’m looking at 18 year olds and honestly wondering why they’re all idiots. Was I like that too? Because I hope not. I hear people saying stuff like ‘I’m 32 I’m so old’ and I’m like ??? You’re literally a spring chicken??

I don’t know if I’ve done one of these posts before, which is surprising because I often like to pretend I’m a wise old man who has lived 50 lives. In reality, I don’t have ‘life’ experience, per se. I just like to rant, so here I am, once again I’m torn into pieces can’t deny it can’t pretend that I talk a load of shite.

These past years I, myself, have learnt a few things. I’ve learnt that I CAN socialise. I realise how much of a better person you become after interacting with people from all walks of life. I realised that life is short and we’re all going to die so I don’t worry too much about the future. As long as I’m doing what I want, it can’t go that wrong. I JUST WANNA BE HAPPY GODDAMNIT. And stable. That too. But happy. Let’s begin.

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Got the music in you baby, tell me why [January Playlist]

Here’s another episode of ‘K doesn’t shut the hell up about music, yeah we know it’s a massive part of your life, it’s a massive part of everyones,  you ain’t special.’

Wow, ok. But I did commit to doing a regular monthly playlist, and I will deliver.

Auld Wives – Bear’s Den

Shout out to Wilko for their banging playlist; I heard this song when I was shopping for half price pick & mix (probably).

Just For Now/For You – Tonight Alive

Just for Now is my favourite song on the album and I’m dying to hear it live. I’m having dreams about the sore throat I’ll have the morning after belting it out. For You is one of those songs you don’t really like at the beginning but then you realise that’s it’s chill af and you’re suddenly playing it on loop. It’s so relaxing. Feels like a hot knife in butter.

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