Positives (Christmas 2017)

• This year I made it to a staff position at work, no renewable contract. Permanent staff. Full blown pension and shit
• This year Marks my firm transition to the full time work. Having said that, Last year was a pretty good marker of that. I've been in my role for almost exactly 2 years now.
• My health -it's not great but its not terminal. 
• My relationships - not great but workable
• My relationships - with some friends have gotten better
• My relationships at work are good

I live with a certain philosophy lately: every hour counts, possibly every minute.

There's such little time to waste. The one thing I miss is boredom. I don't have time to be bored. Having said that, I find a good amount of time to think whenI am unwell. I've been unwell a lot this month.

Positives for 'today'

(originally 16 november)

I got a lot done today, I made an efficient use of my time, I showed personal insight into myself

Positives for today:

• I burned 3000kcal
• I didn't get tempted by lamb ribs, mcdonalds, kfc or chinese takeaway when I got home
• I dealt with a big piece of adversity today

Hope for the future:

• I will have more free time in which to sort out my life
• I have made some inroads into my christmas present plan
• My dad's started taking diabetes medication. This is a positive as it means he will now work on his health a lot more
• My uncle's health situation has gone south lately, but it has gotten better after getting really bad. We are hopeful.

I'm at a restaurant now and the waiter asked for my order but some people were here before me and they made a fuss and they got up and left

Dear Diary,

I've been thinking about furniture. How much I like my office chair for one. I have mixed feelings about my chair at home at my desk.

I've been fantasising about Glenn Gould's chair. How I'd love to have an all purpose chair. It would fold, height adjustable (legs) and seat adjustable.

I'd use it to transport myself. I'd use it to play the piano. I'd use it everywhere.

writing exercise.

when did i first encounter pornography?

1. How old were you?

About 8-10 I think? I was introduced by a friend in his house.

2. What were the circumstances?

I was with someone else. He had a VHS video tape.

3. What kind of pron did you encounter? What behaviour and experiences were portrayed?

It was a european german and very explicity situation. It was aggressive and there were bodily fluids that I didn't associate with sex. There were also things that I didnt know were acts of intercourse

4. How did you feel??

I dont know what to think. It was a very shocking thing to see. I laughed. I laughed a lot, laughing was  my only response as I didnt know how to deal with it. Was it nervous laughter or awkward laughter? Was it funny to me? I can't answer that.

5. How did I talk with others about the experience?

I talked to a few people. I discovered that some people would tell my family, and others would keep it secret.

6. Did your first encounter make you want to see more or search for it?

No, not at first. After a few more times I saw it, then I began to look for it when I turned around 12-13 or so.

7. Is there anything that bothers you about your first exposure to porn?

Yes

I was not mature enough when I saw it.
I didnt know what it was and didn't know whether to say yes or no.
It had an impact on me and the way that I related to people who were either older or my own age.
It made it difficult to relate to people of my own and opposite sex

My first exposure to porn bothers me a lot.

Dear Diary,

It's 2349.

I'm listening to the radio.

I'm reading the past 3 days worth of newspapers (still not done).

I'm looking at mid-range (£100-500) shoes and outerwear.

I have literally had the thought: who wears penny loafers? I bet I'll be that guy one day...

At that realisation. I think that the original purpose of this blog is now over.I was a young 20 year old or something when I began this blog.

I'm 31 going on middle aged.

I have discovered recently that I have new demons. Addictions and PTSD.

I need a lot of work on these demons.

I thought I'd update you on some things, because I'm procrastinating right now:

• I've been offered a full time position at work. A staff position, not fixed term contract. That means more pay
• I might not be able to take the job
• I might have to go away for a while ( afew years)
• I have a tax return
• I have low funds
• I'm under stress
• I'm not well
• I want to get better
• I'm working on myself a bit more
• I should get back to work

Dear Diary,

It's 1940. I'm still at work. I did some work, I did some more work. Now I need to catch up on some life admin.

I've been putting this off. I need to log the things that have happened recently into my google calendar. I also need to set a plan of action for the distant future.

A lot has happened and a lot is happening. Perhaps issues that are too large and too head-fuckery for this blog.

I have addiction issues. It's really tough. I will need to make big changes to my life and changes that I am not sure I will be able to cope with.

But the thing is. I have to do it. The alternative is much, much worse.

I've truly fucked things up. But I feel that the fuckery was deep inside me. Something deep inside me was wrong and has been wrong. Deeper than my depressive episode of the mid 2000s. Something about my childhood.

Perhaps I should talk more about what happened during my childhood.

For now. I should stop procrasturbating and carry on with life admin. THen go home.

dear diary

its 1925.

i'll probably get home by 9pm.

I'm busy at work but I have a lot on my mind. a lot of worries. A lot of woe.

The one thing I just wanted to share.

I'm listening to the glastonbury coverage on iplayer. Sleaford mods had really impressed me, also Run The Jewels. Really entertaining music.

it's 1 am.

I'm reading a big bunch of magazines.

Wednesday is a bad luck day in my experience.

I am braced that this coming wednesday will be no different.

This week history will happen. I'm working at a newspaper masterminding a contract for a young up and coming cartoonist (younger than me - but I'm not spring chicken anymore), and masterminding a summer rota for illustration.

The general election is tomorrow. I feel like its the calm before the storm. I'm barely thinking about it.But in my work, in my job. EVERYTHING is about the election. I feel like I' ma little bit able to let it go, but I also feel like in other ways, I am definitely not able to let go.

dear diary
a note of  life experience: cotton underpants are the best. any polyester or fancy stretchy wicking space aged material makes the smell linger, and that's not sexy.

dear diary,

i am ill, the true extent of my sickness I am hiding from my family and friends and it is a life-limiting condition but not currently fatal. However Im worried about my high heart rates.

I've had to change my routine lately. In some ways I've gone back to my old anxiety routine from when I was at uni. That involved: being around 24 hour news (and youtube, which wasn't around or popular enough when I needed it back then), watching a lot of things on a regular basis such as newsnight, 10 o'clock news, daily politics. I also like to read the papers and watch a select amount of TV.

I've set up a tv watching list. In fact there are so many tv programmes that I actually have more than enough if I wanted to make a routine of it.

However it's my mind that is exhausted and even watching loads of TV feels like too much engagement.

At the moment I am sitting calmly on my desk.

Routine is the only thing keeping me alive and sane.

dear diary,

it has been two weeks since I've started citalopram. My brain feels very disordered. My head is aching constantly and I am frequently confused or distorted and I feel lows. But they are less frequent.

Perhaps a mild headache or dizziness, the kind of thing that comes with a second or third drink, will not be the end of me. On the plus side. I have lost weight.

The time is 1822. I'm at work, 2/3rd of the office have gone home. It's not a big news day and its a beautiful sunny day. It has not been this sunny in a long while. We are all hoping that it may continue.

I am at my desk at work because I feel that my job is the only thing that justifies my life.

Relations with my parents have met an all time low. I really need to rectify that. My wider family I suspect must be talking about me. My friends, well, at least I still have a few of them.

My life revolves a lot around routine. It helps me to have Google Home. I say: Hey Google, set me a timer for 8 hours, set me a time for 9 hours, set me a timer for 10 hours. And I sleep, I am woken periodically by many timers which eases me to wake.

A disaster looms upon my life.

A disaster of my own making.

What was it that Ultron said? We create the things we dread.

I sincerely hope there's a future after this. But before there's an after, there's the eye of the needle, the camel going through the impossibly tiny gap (that's a biblical reference).

My mind is not in a good way. But at least my body is in one of the best shapes it has been in years.

At least for now. I expect much to change.

Much
to
change.

dear diary,

i've tidied up a lot of clothes from my wardrobe. I still have a lot more tidying to do,but I am confident that I have gotten rid of a lot of my personal items.

the ages of me (in clothes)

• 2003-approx 2011 - the primark years. I now resist anything from primark, As a principled decision. I want clothes that last the full cycle.
• 2004-2006 - the wilderness years/stealing from my brother's style
• 2006-2008 - also wilderness years, but starting to solidify my style
• 2009-onwards - uniqlo era
• 2009-onwards - base layers began to be prominent
• 2014 - baselayer and t shirt convergence
• 2015 - smart shirts worn casually
• 
  

Dear Diary,

I've started citalopram again.

It was a big journey to get back to this stage to be willing to take the meds. I'm desperate to change my ways and improve my wellbeing.

Today I got up late. So late that I started to feel depressed about how late it was. The irony of being depressed about it being late in the day was that it made me less inclined to get up. Vicious circularity.

Every month or so I set a task: remove 100 items from my room. Sometimes I cheat and do something like 100 pieces of plastic cutlery (I had a thing about collecting cutlery).

Today (a bank holiday), I decided to go through some items. I've been meaning to clear out my clothing wardrobe lately. My clothes are a memento of who I used to be. Some clothes may still fit but I no longer identify or relate to it. It feels like a stranger's clothes in my room.

I got rid of 137 items, most of which are clothes.

I still need to clear out more things in my room. But that's a good start.

its just past midnight on sunday night/monday morning.

I thought it might be poignant to talk about the 'on this day' markers of previous years:

• 2017 (this year) Theresa May called for Snap election
• 2010 - my brother's band had an album release - he now is a music therapist 
• 2013 - I was working in events - at Margaret Thatcher's funeral
• 2014 - I was working at the Sentinel on Sunday, and I was invited to write some copy that ended up on the paper
• 2015 - my gym instructor who ended up in a few porn films, did his last class (he emigrated)
• 2016 - I bought my first polo shirts from Uniqlo. It felt like a big gesture of me growing up. Those very same polo shirts form my clothing staple at work

I think these events sum up the kind of person I am. 

things aren't so great for me at the moment.

Mentally my mind has gone to places I can't come back from.

If I come back, or get better. It won't be the same.

I've been thinking about CBT and the whole chain of thought thing.

An event creates a thought in my mind, the thought creates a feeling. The feeling has an effect on me, which may impact on my future behaviour (call that, the next event or event+1)

The event upset me, made me angry, made me feel threatened. Those are feelings so I'm skipping a step. The thought was that I was threatened or perceived that I was threatened. I can question that. The feelings are that I felt sad, angry, annoyed. If I change the interpretation (thought) of the event, I might be able to trickle in a reinterpretation of the feelings I have.

Then there's the link between my feelings and the effect it will have on my mood, my outlook, my motivation and that in turn affects my behaviour.

Something upset me and its made me feel like I don't want to go outside.

I'm trying to challenge my thoughts, feelings and its effect/affect on me so I can combat the motivation loss, and most of all combat my sense of loss and despair. In order to feel right enough to go outside again.

I feel like my end is very near.

My mind is tearing apart.

I haven't even mentioned that article 50 is going to be formally advanced tomorrow. I work in a news organisation and people are bleeding out of their liberal hearts.

I've got my own problems so I keep my distance.

dear diary,

panic attacks have reached levels I've never dealt with in my life.

This is a real struggle.

Sometimes people ask my why I do so much work at the gym.

A couple of days ago, I was sitting on my bed, struggling to get up. Struggling to find a reason to keep going.

That's why I spend all that time at the gym and pushing myself to extremes. It feels like a dress rehearsal for my greatest demons.

Enough self aggrandisation: I have to sleep early and work tomorrow.

there was a terrorist attack yesterday.

It happened when I was at work.

I am having my own problems right now.

It intensified my darkness. I chose to go home early as I felt very low.

I still feel very unwell.

Dear Diary,

I feel like I have an addict's mentality.

I'm addicted to things that are not good for me in the quantities. Always trying to organise my life, porn, gym, always aiming for things that I get distracted from reasonably achieving. I'm too obsessive sometimes.

What I need, what I desperately need is a sense of serenity and silence.

No audiobooks, no podcasts, no music in the background, no news feeds, no  TV, No other RSS feeds, no social media, no messaging.

Just keeping it simple, for short periods of time, for periods of clarity to keep my mind clear, to keep my mind focussed.

And then, eventually, going back to the world of news TV, RSS feeds, constant spotify, audiobooks, podcasts, social media...in a controlled way.

Note to self:

compression for tights and shirts - compression material not for underpants. Stick to cotton.

dear diary,

I went on a date this friday. But the most powerful moment of the night was before I met her.

The date was at the British Library. I said to her: we shall meet by Newton. Older lady said to me that she was wondering where Newton was and then when she saw it, she knew.

The statue is of William Blake's Isaac Newton.

It has so much significance to me. I'll list why

• The statue is based on Blake's Newton
• Reminds me of the 'Culture and Society' course that I did at University based on Malcolm Arnold's book
• Blake's newton was aconfusing message -the ultra rational Newton portrayed by the Ultra Irrational
• For a period of time, Immanuel Kant was obsessed with Newton
• For a period of time, I was obsessed with Immanuel Kant's obsession with Newton
• I saw a peek into myself, a version of myself in the past and yet, 
• that person is still inside me.

I need to look at that statue. Is the version of me like that statue, a past work immortalised as a memory, as a monolith. Or is it real?

Dear Diary,

My best friend nearly died last year.

I think i've mentioned this a few times.

It was traumatic to me. It was traumatic to my family. It was traumatic to his family. It was traumatic to his friends, to our friends. It was traumatic to the people he worked with. It was traumatic for people who knew him from the gym.

When he got better. It sparked a belief inside me. A growing acceptance that there could be a higher power. That either it was absurdly unlikely and lucky in the most literal sense of the word, that he lived. Or some kind of faith or prayer did something.

My best friend is back in the world. My best friend and I went to a burger joint and saw the very cool yugioh film.

What happened wasn'/t normal and it feels so wrong that everything went back to normal. Don't get me wrong. It's the thing I would want the most for his family and him, namely that after what happened he got his life back, he has his memories and he can walk and laugh and scream and joke and he will be signed off sickness leave and back to his job soon.

Normal was the one thing I wasn't expecting. Normal was the best outcome. IT really was the best outcome after what happened.

But I have a resounding feeling of several different things. One being that something has got to give when we have been so fortunate with him. Another thing is that something feels deeply unresolved.

I feel like something in me changed and broke after what happened. I'm glad he's back, but I'm not fully sure what the after effects are yet. Inside me and with the people who knew him. You can't be so close to death and 6 months after go to a burger joint and not pay the bill (I covered it expecting him to pay his half -funny story...) like the latter was the most normal thing in the world.

I prepared my mind for grief and what I got was gravy. Gravy from that burger joint. They give you a little float to dip burgers in, it really is quite nice.

Dear Diary,

It's getting late, Andrew Neill's 'it's getting late gag' late.

I'm at work still. I'm aiming to go to the Tate Modern today. I wanted to tell you about the meaning it has for me.

cut to 2006

It's 2006. I'm writing in some hushed semi fictional whisper to intimate the poignance of the moment. I am at Dr. Mar****'s ****** class. We are on a course trip on Modernism, the Avant Garde and pop art. We go to the Tate Modern and then the Tate Britain. If I'm honest I forgot much of the Tate Britain. I was feeling very depressed. We went to London from Bristol, and back to London on the same day. It was the first time I went to London without seeing my family. This was heavily upsetting for me and I never told them that I came to London. I knew their response: Why didn't you come visit? They had jobs at the time and it was only a short day trip. What could I have done?

Nobody talked to me on the bus. I didn't really have friends on the course, hell I hardly had friends at university who gave a shit if I disappeared for months on end who would point it out. Everything was really heavy. Iwas worried about the future. My anxiety was so heavy that I could not even think about the future. It was an empty void that felt worse than death. Every morning during that year I would wake up with a panic attack. My only relief was to wretch myself until I was ready to face the day.

It is just over 10 years later and I still find it -- difficult to remember. Difficult that I am the same person. Difficult in realising how upset I was and how much I was suffering. I sometimes imagine if I'd talk to myself back then, could I have changed the outcome? I may be wiser then, but I was stubborn then. Future me would attempt to wisen stubborn me. Stubborn me wouldn't listen, buried and indoctrinated by the depression and anxiety narratives. I wouldn't try to tell my past self to do anything different.

There was a moment at the Tate Modern which I re-lived over and over in my mind. I was really cold, I had these cheap mountain climbing shoes that were slowly breaking apart. But my anxiety meant that I was too afraid to try anything new and thinking of getting new shoes created a wave of anxiety: where would I get it from? How much would it be? How long would it last? What if they didn't last long enough? What if they cost too much and don't last long enough? What if they don't stay dry? All of these kinds of thoughts even just the thought of the thoughts made me anxious. So I just stayed with those ugly shoes. I had a very specific set of clothes back then (sound familiar?) but those clothes were borne out of many different anxiety rituals. To keep them would cause less anxiety than to change them.

It was a cold day if I recall. I was lonely. I was in the supposed city I belonged to but I could not feel at home if I didn't see my brother or my sister or my parents. I was alone in a distinct way. I was an individual.

I had moments like these, realising that I was an independent individual, independent from what school I went to, who my friends were and what university or course I did. These things made me anxious, these things made me feel I did not have an identity outside of what I belonged to. I felt so distant and separate from the things I used to belong to.

I realise now that these were birthing pains of a sort. The anxiety was a birthing of my individuality and who I would become. I'm not saying this birthing process is the same for everyone, fuck, its probably not the same for anyone else.

Only with my hindsight now do I realise the power of that event. I'm sitting on the cold balcony, wind going up my legs. Those trousers and shoes not suitable for being in London in the wind. I was alone with nobody to talk to, all the other people who went on the  trip had mates they were lunching with, texting and things to do and people to talk to.

I was on my own. In London, my home. I was on my own, in London, without my family. I was on my own, in London without my friends who also were from London. I was on my own, without an identity or a sense of self. I was on my own, discovering a sense of self and who I am. I was on my own, understanding the birth of Romanticism, the Avant Garde and the many movements in art - the 'great man' of Art, pop art and the death of the Aura. Adorno's culture industry and his weird thoughts about Naziism. I was alone in London. Without my family, friends, without the things I felt I belonged to. I was on my own in London with my thoughts.

That was how it was going to be. I am alone, with my thoughts. I am my thoughts. With my thoughts, I am.

That moment on the balcony was a moment of self realisation. At the time it was an intensely lonely and painful set of confusing thoughts and realisations, loneliness, sadness, emptiness. But then, the thoughts were there. The ideas.

I'm going to the Tate Modern tonight. I'll be revisiting myself who I left on that balcony and I will show him who I am now.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dear Diary,

Florence + The Machine feels so passe.

On the other hand I'm listening to a lot of Dream Theater from the 90s and 2000s. Most of my music interests centre around what I listened to before I was 25.

I'm finding it harder to connect to music of these days.

Fuck I'm becoming that guy.

Highlights of today:

1. Going to the gym, doing a class, and going to the gym again, That counts as three, plus I did my walking target. I've increased it to 10500 steps a day
2. I got a really nice calendar from a Media planning organisation. I feel really corporate that I love something like that. If they gave me a pen or a cup I'd totally love that shit. Who have I become?
3. I got a really sweet letter to the 'Cartoon editor' (that's me) from a little girl who said she hates Trump. That basically sums up our readership and our editorial. 
4. My beard looks nice
5. I didn't have a panic attack

Lowlights of today

1. Lost more money on a bet. I'm not liking the direction of how my recent betting decisions have gotten lately.
2. I think a nice woman asked me out. Not sure if its a date or mature adults socialising who have hint of sexual interest. All the same she is flaking and cancelling, uncancelling then cancelling.
3. Work is taking over a lot of my life, and I forget that there is a world outside that newspaper and politics.

Just earlier I was looking for tactical gear - civilian looking fleeces and tops. I'm trying to find some way to define myself through clothing. Also my uniqlo hoody tore and that upset me.

Insomnia thoughts

Can't sleep. Not sure whether laying in bed or sitting up would help.

I'm sitting up now.

Thought I'd check emails, go through 400 emails from the past week.

Ebay ebay ebay, job agencies, stuff about trump outrage --- ooh, linkedin.

I see some people on the list. People from work. Olivia from manager's desk used to be head girl? Damn she's young. Her degree is in some subject that sounds utterly vacuous. I bet she will go far in life in spite of her degree. It's odd how my mate went to Brunel and now its called something else.

I look at some other people. A maths graduate from nottingham, she works as a deliveroo something or other.

Gosh the world of work seems so complicated after being a year away from precarity. Life changes in such short time.

It makes me feel a bit low looking at these people with whom I've had professional contact with. What would they say if they saw my linkedin?

Dissertation on Kant and Spinoza? What is a spinoza?

Interests in C++, Python and Javascript, pet projects in pentesting.

Plays piano? Thats the one thing most people find interesting.

Not my knowledge about the pentecosiomedimni (or being able to pronounce it with ease)

Hello Blog,

Today I heard something that surprisingly resonated with me. I sometimes listen to conservative catholic media on youtube (don't ask why I don't know honestly) and one person said in a discussion about evangelisation, that God is in our lives in the silence. That really hit me, that hit me so hard that I am inclined to believe it.

We spend so much of our time away from silence, with people, activities, things, our goals. It's in the silences that we get to think and reflect. My lecturer once said that it is in the shower or toilet that we are most on our own. Of course that was in 2006 when toilet texting was only really beginning to turn into something else.

I don't write enough in this blog. I feel like I've lost myself in not doing so.

We really should talk more, and by that, you host all my words and I talk to you. That's how our relationship works. I've been talking to you ever since I was just turning 20 and that is a really long time for most adults to have a relationship.

I'm getting closer to my work colleagues. I held myself back from saying work friends but...they are friends. We spend so much time together it should be considered as such.

Today I didn't go to the gym. I intended to go, but I decided to stay in bed and rest some more. I'm giving myself a bit less stick about things. I also worked on my scrapbook, which I am preparing for someone's upcoming birthday.

I've had panic attacks in the distant past. They were events that shocked me so much that I feel them as ripples today. My body and mind have changed. I suppose everyone changes in life.

I have a friend who feels we have changed too much. I knew him since secondary school. What does he expect? Does he think we can go out drinking and being stupid forever? I have to go to work on a newspaper at a role I absolutely love and feel fortunate for, and I feel that I can put some things away. There are other things I wish I could move forward from but there are boundaries - financial, status, opportunity. But I want to work my way through these issues and not bury my head in the sand, or in his case, sambuca and whiskeys (that's not a thing by the way).

items of clothing in the charity bag

• beige cords, date of purchase: unknown
• Levis 501's date of purchase: between 2007-2008. I kept these for so long without wearing them because they represented all of my hopes and aspirations of who I used to be back then, also they have a powerful memory and almost a scent (an intangible sense of aura linked to Marie). I need space for my current and future clothes. Also, its the right time to get rid of those emotions, to clear my feelings that I'm holding on to that do not serve me anymore. I was a grad student back then, those jeans are a dark ish blue but are worn in and look too close to stonewash as is comfortable. I'm sorry to see these go. 
• Waistcoat, wooly from C&A. Date of purchase: NA, a family hand me down, maybe it's my brother's, maybe it's my dad's? Back in 2015 this item of clothing was greatly comforting during my terrible panics
• Dark jeans - look too small for me. Date of purchase: Don't even recognise these as mine? Going in the bag
• Cedarwood state (primark) brand body warmer. Looks cool, have worn it to badminton a few times. I won't be wearing it to badminton anymore. In the bag
• Three geometric print shirts. Back in 2013-2014 I was really into geometric print. I am not into it as much anymore. These shirts feel obsolete and a lagging memory of when I first started working at The Sentinel as a casual/freelancer. I am now a contract staff and that shirt reminds me of poorer days and less certainty.
• Hooded sports top - this came from my cousin a few years ago. Only wore it like 3 times as a courtesy to my mum. In the bag. 
• Hooded summer jacket - this is actually quite a nice jacket, military look, lots of pockets. I wore this during the summer and to the gym a lot. I think I got this in 2014 or 2015? I remember wearing this when I was working on ad bookings. 
• Neon green vest (2014?) got it for badminton - it makes me feel fat. even if I'm losing weight or not - it makes me feel inseucire. also I experimented with colour, it doesn't do it for me.
• Pink vest (2013-14?) - birthday/xmas present. Doesn't do it for me. I did try to wear it. Also makes me feel fat
• Short shorts - red decail (2013?) - not short enough, don't like red decal
• Uniqlo jumper - too much colour fade :(

Today was my Break the Routine day. The day inbetween my previous birthday and my next birthday.

It is supposed to be (given the name) a day in which I do something entierly different.

Today I woke up late, didn't rush myself. I went to get a full english at a cafe. It was disappointing and mediocre. I had unforgiving standards for a full English.

After that I went to the gym. I got my new earbuds today. The samsung gearx or something. It has all the things I want in a headset.

I am testing it right now.
The ultimate test is: Ashes to the Stars by Tarot.

Jump into madness awaiting at the seams
of all reality and mind.
Through the wound torn in space and time.
I blink, centuries unwind.

Hear the voice of the suns,
Their wind at your face,
The rage of their storm.

Spread my ashes to the stars.
Join the raw chaos at heart.
Spread my ashes to the stars.
Fall forever in the dark.

Neurons backfire in the onrush of data.
Endless orgasm supreme.
Joining of flesh with fiber and steel.
Lovers, the ghost and machine.

Hear the voice of the suns,
Their wind at your face,
The rage of their storm.

Spread my ashes to the stars.

Join the raw chaos at heart.
Spread my ashes to the stars.
Fall forever in the dark.

Moving astral in the veins of acid
across the silvery skin
Feeding on miracles, clutching like a spider
the ends of space from within.

Screamswept blackness, that is my head,
dreams all that there will be.
Breeding myself back from the dead
for all this eternity.

Hear the voice of the suns,
Their wind at your face,
The rage of their storm.

Spread my ashes to the stars.
Join the raw chaos at heart.
Spread my ashes to the stars.
Fall forever in the dark.

Every stanza has intense meaning for me. I feel like, as the years go on. This track has become me, I have become the lyrics, I have embodied the cryptic darkness and rage and power it represents. I love the screams of Marco Hietala's higher range, Zachary's solo section and most importantly, most importantly, the power of Marco's bass, the consistent, cutting, blunt yet broad knock you out beats.

I am testing my earbuds and the ultimate test is if they can play Ashes to the Stars with the perfect mix that fits how I listen to it. The intense all encompassing sound all emcompassing like a black hole (although there is sound in a vacuum).

Go back to 2006.In that hospital. My one possession was the Creative mp3 player, oh how beautiful it was. It had a blue backlight and more memory than I could ever hope for. It was second hand and uncompromisingly thick and metallic and could carry all my music. It only had one colour - Black, wifi only existed just about for consumers and bluetooth was not in common usage. It worked with a wired headset (remember those?) and it was everything I ever desired. Oh how things have changed and yet how I seek that intense listening experience.

The bass doesn't quite go where I want. Also I need to keep my face still or the vibrations don't go through

Also today. My friend who had a heart attack came with me to the gym. we were all so happy for him and everyone's spirit was up because of it.It was a truly beautiful day for me especially with my constant worry about him.

Dear Diary,

I can tell you about how busy my week has been, I can tell you about how unique it has been to be so active over December over these past few days. I've been tired and there has been a lot of planning involved with trying to keep on top of everything.

Instead I want to try and get out of my own head for a moment.

All the people I come into contact with have their own personal stories and experience. Their backgrounds and feelings that I don't always consider, or even know about.

I don't remember this as often.