Those Blue Remembered Hills

Into my heart an air that kills

From yon far country blows:

What are those blue remembered hills,

What spires, what farms are those?

  That is the Land of Lost Content,

I see it shining plain,

The happy highways where I went,

And cannot come again.
 

- A E Housman

My Alcoholic Friends

I've been painting - more on that another time (I feel it deserves its very own blog)
I've been baking - Coconut and pineapple cupcakes + oat and raisin cookies = yum

Most pressingly I've been dancing.

Dancing in drama, well lets call it physical theatre.
Dancing in youth theatre, lets say performing arts.

Dancing with my friends, lets call it sheer, hilarious, fun.

Omegle: a synopsis (As well as brief update)

Oh dear and I began this blog in such a determined state of mind...

...OK well January 2010, AS Levels AAAB (Damn drama), slogging on with all four to A Level, Going to study music (singing) in London next year, probably Trinity College of Music, I need to get EE somehow I think that's going to be manageable, hoping to start "that" band, hoping to re-start "that" choir, hoping to re-start keyboard and drums, hoping to do some work tomorrow, performing in "Return to the Forbidden Planet" in March. Seeing Evelyn Evelyn (Amanda Palmer project in April)

That's you up to date, now onto the main theme.

www.omegle.com is a site that connects you randomly to another person anywhere in the world and allows you, quite simply, to chat.

In the inevitable world where internet anonymity leads to abject hostility and weirdness there are plenty of weirdos to ignore. However every now and then you find yourself speaking to someone completely fascinating and that seems to make it all worth while.....

For what we are about to receive.....

Heya, here's a short story I wrote for English on the theme of Dystopia. Hope you enjoy :)


For what we are about to receive.....

The knife plunges down in a series of precise slashes, rending the frail skin and spilling the deep red innards across the wooden block. Her elegantly tailored suit emphasises her statuesque silhouette; deliberately tasteful jewellery frames her carefully applied facade which melts slowly into a salty echo of a Willem de Kooning with each slice of her blade. The acidic taint of the tomato’s juices catches in the bourgeois goddess’s throat and she chokes with the understanding of the damned. The immaculate temple of dark granite work surfaces carefully accented by the contrasting high gloss tiling and the most fashionably branded appliances stands as a gleaming testament to capitalist success and impeccable taste. Of course should the enamel casing be ripped apart to reveal the bare wooden skeleton the stamps would be there, just as they were in the newly built tenement slums and the faux historical mansions, the carmine formal ink here would of course read “Government Issue- Bourgeoisie Grade.” ......