Monday 28 July 2008

Heartbeats

At the moment I'm listening to the hauntingly beautiful "Heartbeats" by Jose Gonzales. With the melodic guitar picking, and melancholy voices, it's not hard to love this track. The combination of the guitar and voices gives the song a haunting wistfulness. It makes of think of summer days in fields of flowers and dark winter nights sitting by the fire, and (unsurprisingly) the advert with the balls. Who was it for? Panasonic? Nevermind, I digress. Some of the analogies that are used in the song are also appropriate for the mood of the song ("One night to push and scream, and then relief" - referring, I think, to the lover to whom the protagonist addresses the song giving birth to a baby). I've listened to it about five times I got on the bus. What a song!

Thursday 24 July 2008

Umm

After two brilliant posts, I've run out of steam!

I'm looking to the future, yet at the same time, back in time. All the people who I haven't spoken to in a while seem to coming back, I'm really getting a feel of where I'm going with the folk I know; who are the ones to hold on to, and who are the ones to let go. A line from Bad Religion's Shattered Faith comes to mind; "The roads you take, the friends you make, and those you throw away.". It certainly seems to have come to that for me. I don't know why, but I got the impression that now is make or break time with regards to the people I know. Who am I going to go forward with, and who am I going leave behind? It seems that in some cases, the decision has been made for me, and in one particular instance, the decision upsets me, as this was one of the people I wanted to note forward with. It's just occurred to me that in the aforementioned case, I may have to sacrifice this one friendship in order to strengthen others, as I may do if college turns out the way I want it to. Tears, yet at the same time, Joy. And by the grace of God, I can ride this storm and emerge on the other side as a better person.

Wednesday 23 July 2008

Before I begin, let it be said that I'm not one for bitching, but this particular subject, or rather person is one of my pet hates.

So there's this girl I know, I shan't name her, but shall refer to her with the abbreviation that my mum christened her with: The FLC.

Elitism. You're guilty as charged, madam. Sitting there whining with your friends not giving a damn about anyone who you deem to be beneath you. Ploughing Gung ho into something, then whining when it backfires on you. You're so possessive too, grabbing something and clinging onto it for dear life, until it suffocates. I'm really glad that he got out, that The Don and Manny open his eyes to you. Go on, fuck yourself up, see if I care. Just don't complain in 20 years when your liver has packed in, because you brought it on yourself. Stupid Bitch.

Into The Vault

I suppose saturday started earlier in the week last week when I made my opticians appointment. That may seen like a really weird thing to say, but it becomes perfectly normal when I tell you that I travelled almost 1000 years back in time. Ok, I'm starting to jump ahead of myself here. Back to the start.

On Tuesday, I went to the opticians, saturday was first appointment I could get, so I took it, wanting to get rid of my glasses asap. Fast forward to saturday, and after a frustrating session with especially fiddly contact lenses, I headed, Cathedral bound, to pick up mum's drawing from the exhibition. At the Cathedral, I met Marc, who showed me pictures that he had been taking (rather spooky pictures they were too), and in particular, several that he had taken when he went into The Vault. The Vault was a slum area of Dundee, which was flattened at the turn of the century in order to build the Caird Hall, although if you know where to look, it's still there. I asked Marc if he could take of down there before he was whisked off in his chauffeur driven chariot (he was getting a lift home from Catherine), and he agreed. After a quick mutter in Catherine's direction, we headed down into the deep dark murky depths of Dundee's past.

At first glance, it just looks like a normal alley, the kind that would lead to the flats on the upper floors of a building. In through the gate, and down through a pend (this lane was known as Castle Court) and down the cobbled lane into the cobbled lane that runs parallel with Castle street, the remains of Tindell's Wynd. As drab and dirty as it looks now, this area has no doubt seen poverty, disease and hunger ten times over that of what is there today. It has also seen blood aplenty, as in 1908, a shot broke out in Tindell's Wynd, with a nearby gun shop being looted. The riot was so bad that Robert Peel's finest couldn't quell it, so the Black Watch was called in to put a stop to the proceedings.

The bloody history is in juxtaposition with an even older piece of history sitting right in the middle of this. Sitting on the corner of Castle Court and Tindell's Wynd is what remains of St Clement's church, the original city church. It's windows have been bricked up, and only half of the original church remains, it still stands. It saw the bloody events of that riot 100 years ago, and though the traces of that event and the buildings which harboured the rioters are gone, St Clement's still witnesses the goings on of that small corner of Dundee. But for how much longer? Will it be here in a hundred years? Only time will tell.

Tuesday 22 July 2008

wow.

Where's the last half hour gone?

Seriously.

I'll shove up the new post (that i've been working on for the last 3 days but was meant to put up on saturday) when I'm on the bus.

Honestly, I will!

Monday 14 July 2008

Fear and Loathing on the other end of the phone

Just finished a long day at work; 8 hours of that place! I really don't see how some people can do 9-5 in that place. The first shift wasn't too bad though, four and a half hours of stuffing letters into envelopes may seen boring but Tesco has enough customers with silly names to have kept us amused. I didn't, however, see the funny side of three hours of new store surveys. The responses are predictable, see-sawing between zealous and Loathing.

There's no funny side to the fact that I'm having to get up early tomorrow to find out about course choices at college either. Huh.

I picked up a copy of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, which I co reading through at the mo. I recommend it.

I'll dispatch from...well, somewhere tomorrow.