An hour is enough
time to dress.
Slug through the juggernaught sleep
still rampaging the bones.
Rich in promise,
of supplementary power.
Get to work,
Two sausage rolls
from the Co-op,
Down the power brown,
Smoke, smoke, smoke.
What am I doing to my body?
Not having a smart phone, or even device. Could prove itself to be a controversial topic.
‘Who the hell doesn’t have a smart phone other than dealers and cheap edgy ironic hipsters?’.
Well, you smart phone wielding tit. This guy right here, this guy.
I’ve dabbled – a cheap old Samsung moon-rising-experia or whatever. Pardon the pun, but I may be coming across as out of touch. Oh yeah, lick that joke off my boot – It blows peoples mind when I need to let them know upon Instagram requests and the like that I indeed have an under ten pound option, modern build, that has three primary functions (for me).
It has a great torch on it that switches on when you press and hold the #5 button. Yes….buttons…remember those?
These functions are enough for me and really should be enough. But sometimes I sit and wish I could be playing Pokémon Go; you all look like you’re having a great deal of fun. Good for you.
I’d like to be able to email more on the go – much more work would get done. Perhaps I’d be able to keep an eye on my blog, the news, the weather, bus times and shit all day.
But screw it, no one needs to do that in order to do well.
I say this without being all high and mighty – in my brief time with a smart device, it was revealed to me that these things are more all consuming than they appear to be. Take photos, upload photos on to Facebook, browse Facebook, browse the web, swipe, swipe, swipe, swipe. Notifications, bleep bleep bleep!
“Turn them off!” I hear you call, ah yes of course and render the point of instant contact/instant response useless, and forget about those other things and be distracted by another stupid thing. It was difficult to moderate such a BLAM of information to my pocket.
I even set up a twitter, that up until recently was completely redundant. The only action my ‘blog’ Twitter gets is when I decide to release something I’ve written. The only REAL things I would want a smart phone for are their Cameras and internet banking. Because money often vanishes fast and hard from my bank account. Got a new job but more on that another time maybe.
I had an Amazon Kindle Fire HD 7 SUPER HOT FIRE tablet bought for me as a birthday present. I didn’t know how to take it, until I started using it for banking and emails – then it was love.
But then how can you resist all those time killing thumb swiping apps, oh god what about the free Zynga Poker App? Poker is fantastic fun, and when it’s free, it’s endless, hours of fun. It was a game a played whilst drinking and smoking alone for hours and hours and hours winning and losing. The addiction was so raw that I had to play until the point of losing all my virtual currency so that I could sleep, and that time didn’t come much before 4am. You can get addicted to almost anything, but games really mess me up. Especially incremental value games, for example another game called Tap Titans, which is a simple Kill things > Get Money > Invest Money > Kill things faster > Make more money > Repeat model. Played it for 40 hours or so; no crazy story, no decent soundtrack no amazing game play and ground breaking mechanics. But I had fun, too much wasted fun; it is what it is. – I also spent about a five real pounds on more chips when I went bust a few times…I could easily fall into THAT trap.
There are benefits to such technologies, but surely people must see that something is going very wrong here, whilst there are tons of cases for them being productive tools, there is also the case against them for being very time consuming little boxes, where you can socialise by numbers, play games. How many people do you know who can’t have one moment to themselves without wanting to share it around the world for validation.
I’m also happy to not be one of those people on public transport, head down swiping away.
Also very happy not be another person at the dinner table or out at a restaurant sitting there ignoring everyone in the present moment. Not another twat in a car texting and driving obsessed with a COMPUTER, and consequent window to the ‘modern world’.
Perhaps I will change my mind, but until smart phones are no longer a plague against society then I probably won’t. I don’t want to end up like that. Living in a world where it is perfectly OK to sit in a room with other people, not say a word to each other but speak to everyone and everything else. Because I wouldn’t be able to control myself, I consider going phoneless but it’s just me wanting to get rid of my Facebook in all honesty.
It’s funny how I can’t ‘yet’.
Another thing to consider another time.
What are you doing, savage man?
When will you get out of bed and stand up?
Savage man, when will you get up?
You don’t have to if you don’t want to.
Currency is currently coming and going.
Currency is coming and going.
Is this why you wake up Savage man?
Hey, Savage man?
Can we ask you something?
Why not pack it all in?
You don’t have to wake up.
Savage man, will you get up?
We’re concerned about your performance.
Savage man, get up.
Currency must come and go.
If she has smiled at you,
she’s smiled at a lot,
Her day full of seeing
yes yes, special.
just like everyone else.
You’ll love her,
like you could
And the mutual bond
will set itself in stone
until the cracks do crack
and they crack,
just as they would
with anyone else.
And good thought was perished ,
Quickly and moderately in self doubt.
And good thought did not come to fruition,
Good thought was interrupted.
Quickly, and moderately.
In Self doubt.
And good thought is laid to rest,
Buried under self doubt, laziness too…
And good thought is remembered and reflected upon.
Bones of good thoughts, remembered in verse.
And verse came. Quickly and moderately.
Where has the motivation buried itself?
I’ve got to say, laziness is mighty deadly; but more so, as is written in Frank Herbert’s super classic Dune:
‘Fear is the mind killer…’
It was an odd place to find relatable notions of ethics, morals and personal philosophies.
But upon finishing it a week or so ago I’ve had opportunity to think over this gargantuan space opera of sci-fi delights wrapped within mythology, theology and prophecy; and I must say, it casts a flirts in a romance of oh so very deep philosophical and existential pursuits, cause and effect.
Fear is crazy. It’s a senseless rebellion against you.
It’s natural, but that doesn’t stop it from being rather crazy, frantic like a cat trapped in a room with a hundred Henry hoover’s switched on high. (The Henry hoover is an English domestic staple).
It’s one of our prominent survival instincts, fear, not Henry...It keeps us alive. Or perhaps, (I use this word ‘perhaps’ far too much)…or at least that what it was previously for, you know In times of matters of daily life and death. (I use brackets and italics too much too)
Those times of constant violent fight or flight situations have been on the steady decrease for a while, with the occasional hiccup or nuclear hiccup; contrary to popular belief or perception, we are moving toward more peaceful times, it will be a while before we are ‘truly’ there though. What we face now is fear or shattering the ‘self’ the ego, which is a perilous
Now it prevents us from such basic things as approaching that desired man or woman or both or a combination of the genders, it prevents us from applying for that job or taking that chance. Whatever the fuck it is!
It sounds cheesy and corny but it does, we all fear doing something. THAT very something, most of the time.
You know, THAT PLAN…
Fear declares our dreams dead on arrival often at the first consideration of failure; so we convince ourselves in our infinite pride and fragile ego, don’t change. Don’t even attempt it.
Don’t you dare motherfucker!
True motivation is sapped efficiently by fear; I for one am terrified of not only trying but to really put 100% of me in to something and put up for everyone to see, especially something as intimate as writing. Fuck me.
What will people think of me? There are twisted things that make the page but only that far.
And that’s a big one for me – massive pussy, yes.
It’s definitely a cliché, everything is, even saying that. And that probably etc. etc.
How do you put yourself out there?
(Start a semi-anonymous blog for a start)
Walk in to the hellfire rain of bullets that is the 21st century system, the information age, the weirdest fucking time of all time ever. 2016 is testimony to how strange things really are getting. Almost contradicting previous point.
But walk on, and be liquified and born again, and again, and again, and again.
People are mean, everyone is mean, you’re a fucking mean cunt. We all are! Let’s be mean and not be sensitive just fucking take the shit you get thrown at you, bag it up for later. Then get your own shit and throw it back if it makes you happy.
Shit slinging IS the internet so you’ll have all sparring partners you could possibly want 24/7. Or you could just think about it, in this context. It is a person, behind a keyboard. That’s it.
Fuck the crowd right?
So to all the twenty-something year olds stepping out into the world, maybe fresh graduates: There is no shame in not knowing what to do in life.
Who is to blame you?
Holy fuck, you know are there too many choices, industries, companies – and maybe not quite enough stock of those dream opportunities; for every day we sit back not shooting for our stars, someone else somewhere has their sites trained on your dream. It’s theirs too.
What do you want?
What do you need?
Health? Wealth? Youtube fame? Insta-model? Nice cup of coffee and oral sex? Fat bags of green and a Playstation 4?
Have you got a start up that is ready to take on the modern market?
You know what I’m talking about.
Yes, let us talk about it.
No, no. I insist, its better this way.
We need to talk about that plan honey. Let us place hands on each others’ knees and share adoring glances for security comfort. Kiss me.
For me, writing is heavily tied to THAT PLAN. But does this effort right here right now contribute to that? Probably not. Most likely not at all. It’s not enough to me; I should be recording daily, scripting daily, reading and writing thousands of words every week.
Produce copy, send everywhere. Produce copy, send everywhere.
I often have a hard time keeping the attention span or keeping the faith in the ‘PLAN’ to want to write or keep up with these long ones. Especially on a given topic; the ones that don’t get finished are the ones I consider real work, and typically have evaded for a while. Sometimes, occasionally paying them attention and cowering upon realising there is much ticker-tackering to be doing on the old QWERTY keyboard there; thus convincing myself there was no point in the first place.
I should be spending every other hour I have spare away from the day job chasing
THAT PLAN. Giving it the attention it needs, dive the fuck in headfirst.
That’s what needs to happen. But by Christ I don’t have the power! Excuses, not true, sometimes true.
What a tough cookie.
An ever changing double-what-the-fuck chip cookie. Cluster crumble fuck of a cookie.
Or a cluster fuck crumble. Either.
THAT PLAN is so hard to execute, the discipline and patience are the only real key and well, if you have it, i.e you can make it, and if you don’t you keep doing what you’re doing, but never lose faith and never stop doing it just because it didn’t make you rich and famous. Not being bitchy, but this is just how we are becoming in this day and age. We are so used to overnight successes, even the losers of big game shows eventually win. We are a society obsessed with personality, the west especially.
We ‘see’ or perceive the rapid rise and fall of so many celebrities that it almost feels like a lottery, some may think that is just how it is. That is how it goes. You either get to be in the club or you don’t.
I’m not quite sure that is the case – there are more lanes opening up all over the place in this information age. Sometimes it feels like there is no point to even trying, the world is saturated with dreamers, but fuck it! You just have to go and do it. It’s never easy its fucking shit and it hurts but it needs to be done. You can tell I’ve hit a positive frequency today, it’s almost disgusting.
Even those fifteen-minutes-of-fame fuckers took a chance, did it and got ALL the hate available. So why don’t you go get yours and go beyond that ceiling of imagination, take it up a notch.
Everyone is trying to get THERE and you and I are stuck HERE.
Where we can get the ticket to catch that ride is anyone’s guess; so start walking and hopefully, make it there regardless of how we do it.