Tag Archives: abbey

Random Writing

Ok, so it’s been forever since I was last on here, but things have been… busy to say the least.  Anyways, I was just reading about this thing called ‘London Writer’s Rooms’ (see bottom of post for link) and realised it has been far too long since I wrote anything other than academic essays, etc.  So I opened up Word and wrote the following in about 2 minutes.  I reckon it’s got some potential here, and since it seems to be going on a ‘homeless expedition’, it may give me the chance to do some actual research into the ‘problem’ of homelessness, particularly in London.

More to come if I write anything else 😛

Deep under the duvet that she currently called home, Hope breathed in the foul smell of urine and alcohol.  The dog had pissed on her again.  It was either him, or that dirty bastard Fox.  Fox seemed to have a habit for emptying his bodily content in the most inconvenient of places, most recently in the nearby Costa – much to the delight of the early-morning suits.  She would have laughed if she could, but at that moment in time had been most profoundly stoned, and it was stoned only.  The hard stuff was far too much for her to handle.  Even alcohol was off-limits to her, for she knew the damage that it could cause: case in point being Fox.

https://www.facebook.com/home.php#!/londonwritersrooms?fref=ts

xx

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Job Interview

The knot in my stomach

Clenches like a pig’s intestine:

“Digest that!”

Such nerves are to be expected,

Surely, at times like this?

Please, help me, help to ease

The pain.

 

Too late.

My time has come.

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Burning Love

‘Hunger!’ he shouts,

Screams about it.

That burning love,

What could he mean?

An infection, perhaps,

Of the severely uncool

Rock and roll kind?

Or drugs?

Alcohol?

Of course, it must be metaphorical,

I say,

Love is not a literal being.

It embodies itself, through symbolism

Like in ‘Free’.

 

Woah,

Where’s your passion?

 

People want to believe in it,

So they invent it.

 

Surely?

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Postbox

She shouts from downstairs

But not to me.

No.

It’s a delivery for a Mr. I’m Married To You.

He sends a reply back;

First class, of course.

 

She opens it,

Reads it,

Cries.

Pours out her soul to the air around her

Until it turns blue.

Crude.

Rude.

 

He laughs at her desperation,

Her misery.

Oh, how he loves the speedy service of words.

Vicious words.

 

She’s at his feet again

Like he is the Almighty

Come down to Earth

To wreak havoc and pain.

 

Old Testament.

 

The Red mail box outside

The house is full again.

 

Time for Mr. Postman to deliver more abuse.

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Untitled

Untitled

 

Stuck in traffic

traffic of the mind

thoughts can’t move

progress

stuck in time

 

a dull ache hinders progress

 

now it’s sharp

painfully there

i’m aware

sorely

of its presence

 

again it’s gone

like it was never there

 

a pretender

 

now i look outside the window

and breath in

stale yet fresh air

like life

vitality

in

and

out

 

in

and

out

 

now i can think

again.

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Sorry for.. Not Blogging!! (Sang LMFAO Style)

It dawned upon me earlier that I haven’t blogged in aaaggggeeessss!! This will be corrected, as to make up for my erroneous ways, I will try to blog every other day for the next week!

This week’s been fairly eventful.

Monday was my Biology 6X (A2) EMPA, where there was only actually one practical during the day. For a practical exam, it seemed pretty theoretical to me!

Tuesday was… dull. I think. I can’t remember, so it must have been! 😛

Wednesday night: I went out clubbing with some friends as it was student night in Chelmsford. My phone got stolen, as did several other people’s phones. When we couldn’t find one of our friends, we came to the drunk conclusion that she had been stolen too!

She hadn’t. She was just being sick in the toilets. Nice, I know.

Thursday: I really wasn’t feeling great, mostly depression from not having my phone. That evening, however, I was massively cheered up when the club called to say they’d found my phone! That was, until Mum planted the seed of doubt in my head that it was probably broken..

Friday: I handed in most of my EPQ project, did an assessed practical in chemistry, and went to the club to get my phone (it wasn’t damaged, but I did have to unblock it as I’d reported it stolen). HAPPY DAYS!

 

I’ll blog something again soon.. Maybe a poem, or something?

 

xx

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Stoke-On-Trent

I’m currently staying at the Weather Vane in Stoke-On-Trent as I’m going to Keele University tomorrow (it’s my ‘firm choice’ uni).  I have to admit, I’m a little surprised at how… northern the accent is here (although I’m sure many would disagree). It sounds kind of like the Liverpool accent, but maybe that’s just me.  I’ve been to Leicester and Nottingham before, and didn’t think their accent was anywhere near as obvious.  If anyone’s from the North, please share your thoughts on this.  Perhaps it’s because I’m from Essex – though I DO NOT speak like those on TOWIE!  Honest!  Anyways, the hotel-place is nice (only £40 for a twin room), and the city centre has some good shops.  We had a look at the indoor market today, and discovered that the fruit there was a lot cheaper than at home (99p for strawberries, 89p for a huge bag of apples!).  I’m glad I’ve got Keele as my 1st choice and Westminster as my 2nd, as I don’t think I’d be able to afford to live in London!

xx

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Quick Review: Erik Hassle – Pieces (a musical album)

Erik Hassle’s first album Pieces was released in the UK on February 22, 2010.  It was originally entitled Hassle in his native country of Sweden.  He is one of my favourite musicians and someone who should be getting a lot more coverage.

Track List

  1. Bump in the road
  2. Hurtful
  3. Don’t bring flowers
  4. Isn’t it obvious
  5. The thanks I get
  6. Standing where you left me
  7. Bitter end
  8. First time
  9. Love me to pieces
  10. Wanna be loved
  11. Back to bed
  12. Amelia

My personal favourite songs are Hurtful, The Thanks I Get, and Love Me to Pieces. 🙂

The style of the album seems to be quite varied, although there are always the subliminal soul and techno backdrops.  This, combined with Hassle’s earthy and sometimes gravelly voice, produce a unique quality of music that I haven’t very often.  The messages of the tracks come through loud and clear thanks to the lyrics, which are [mostly] of good quality.  Some exceptions here include:

I follow in your footsteps / To see the things you see

Pretty lies, no concern

You’re a karma killer

At least it’s only a few exceptions 😛

It’s difficult to review an album, mainly because it’s down to personal preference and – being something that you hear – it’s difficult to form your own opinion without hearing the actual music.  Thus, I’ve included links to a few YouTube videos and an amazon link, in case you’re interested in INVESTING!

On that note, I conclude this *somewhat pointless* review!

Amazon http://www.amazon.co.uk/Pieces-Erik-Hassle/dp/B002IPGXHY/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1330463816&sr=8-1

Hurtful http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4OZCuHmgVek

Don’t Bring Flowers http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gLdFQa1620w

Bump In the Road http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zFxE8WoWXb0

Love Me To Pieces (live) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BV9mpXK8l38

 

He’s also sung with other artists, and does quite a few covers

Ellie Goulding ft Erik Hassle – Be Mine http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cO_rA-M7hzY

SOS (ABBA cover) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ckRZCCiXq90

In For the Kill (La Roux cover) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EEOYADKPdkA

xx

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Quick Review: Heroes and Villains

Heroes and Villains – Angela Carter

Although it isn’t the most fluent of texts (Carter has a tendency to forget to use punctuation so as to allow the reader to pause), the descrptions are often vivid and gripping.  The real beauty of this novel is it’s ability to make the reader question what we percieve as being right and wrong – hence the title of ‘Heroes and Villains.  If you can ignore the sometimes ridiculous plot and overlook the fact that it can’t decide what genre it belongs to, a most enjoyable read is in store.

‘Heroes and Villains’ is essentially a book about a dystopia world where the people are divided into Professors, Soldiers, Workers, Barbarians, and ‘out people’, described by protagonist Marianne’s father as “the outcasts of the outcasts”.  Marianne is bored of the white tower she is imprisoned in.  She knows of the Barbarians who live in the dense forests beyond (one of them killed her brother on a raid), and starts to dream of what it would like to leave her civilized world.  Once outside, she embarks on a bizarre journey that takes her to the limits of humanity: odd, violent, passionate, and at times quite hideous, the post-apocalyptic world tests Marianne – and by extension, the reader – as to what makes someone a hero.  Both gothic and fantastical, Carter manages to twist romance into a force of philosophy and debate, and although this isn’t her finest work grammatically, it does indeed succeed in its mission.

4/5

 

Good Quotations

‘Suicide was not uncommon among Workers and Professors when they reached a certain age and felt the approach of senility and loss of wits, though it was unknown among the Soldiers, who learned discipline.  But homocide was very rare and usually happened shortly before a Barbarian raid.’

‘She touched his beads and wondered whether to strangle him with them.’

‘He had donned a mask of cerved wood painted with blue, green, purple and black blotches, dark red spots and scarlet streaks which covered all of his face but for the bristling parti-coloured beard.’

“I’m too drunk to screw you”, he said.

“One must be thankful for small mercies”, she snapped.  He laughed with apparently genuine delight.

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The Vampire

Unintentionally, my wild eyes rove

Over your deliberate form.

The brass forest of blue yonder

Sinks into smoke shadows

As you utter

My name.

 

You insist now that the orb of moonlight

Cast upon that pure savage shore

On that wondrous and fateful night

Is lamentably there

To protect me

From you.

 

I cannot accept: what ruinous thoughts

Pass athwart the air between us.

How could you remarkable beaut

Possess such qualities

And claim to be

Marble?

 

Though the echo of the pain as your lips break

My humanity still lingers on,

I stalk your magnificence through

The forest at dawn to

The wasteland we

Call home.

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