Bada bing, bada boom, yaknow?

I have nothing interesting to write about.


I could just talk about memes for the next four paragraphs, but what good would that do? I’m not sure. Memes are stupid, but addictive, they’re a sort of little nugget of treasure that eventually decay into emptiness. But they’re absotively the shit when they exist.

Think of ‘cowabunga’. Who in their right mind would say that these days? Some, maybe. But you’d be squashed by the collective gaze of society. It’d stamp you down right good. With words, and glares. Glares aren’t nice.

But at the time, man, did it feel right. How quintessential of the early 1990’s would it have been to utter those sacred words. ‘Cowabunga’. Terrific. You’ve won the time period. Yet, give it a few years, and you’re ancient history.

Words change, fads develop, each generation has its own cultural expectations and goals. Some dangerous, some mundane. It’s the cycle of the generation. We exist within it. But that does not get rid of our personal agency. We can spout our own memes all we want, maybe they’ll catch on. Maybe they’ll fade. Who knows.


Just be you, you might catch on.

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A Declaration of Sanity

I’m sane, I think.

We’re all slightly off kilter. There’s nothing inherently wrong with this. Sometimes there is.

Do we reside in a sphere of everlasting justice, or do people interact on a case by case basis? We have an unspoken contract. Our social norms, how we interact, the way we talk, the way we move. A verbal and non verbal contract between us all; ‘I won’t hurt you if you don’t hurt me’.

Then why is being off kilter an issue? Again, nothing inherent. It’s more an internalisation. A realisation that you don’t work within the social contract. Your actions, words, beliefs; they upset the status quo.

Some find this amusing, others frightening.

The issue arises from fear. Fear drives us to the extremes of our faculties. We kill when we’re afraid. We kill when we’re disgusted.

A crossing of wires, perhaps? A tendency for anger, destruction, when faced with the unknown. Cleansing.

So you put on an act.


Am I sane? Yes.

Am I sane?


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Fat Mac

How is this image of a fat man screaming over a George Michael backing track so profound? What does it bring to the unconscious mind, that which we cannot see?

Enlighten me.


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A Journey.

I haven’t written in a while.


I can’t say why. Not that I don’t want to, it’s more that I cannot conceptualize why I haven’t written.

Writing is a cathartic process, and one where your mind can wander. You can write your thoughts down with repercussion usually only internal. Sometimes people exclaim, but seldom they do in words.

I’ve been walking a lot, maybe to get a sense of routine. I’ve worked and been out of work in the past year. I’m volunteering again. I’m becoming addicted to rigidity once more, or not, I’m not sure. I don’t think addiction’s the right word. It’s probably obsession. Need.

Obsession’s a good word.

It denotes time speny on one thing alone. All encompassing, unavoidable. It can bridge the gap between mania and terror. Torment, to some, genius to others. Slipping between the gaps can happen all too frequently to those unaware of the pitfalls. Most do, with some finding it easier to climb back up than others.

The journey down is deep, and dark. There is always light, though. Light that shines downwards, a light which shines past and internal. A light from the future, a light from the present and past. Soothing, hopeful.

Through obsession and sin, there is always a light. Accepting both is the way out of the tunnel.

Forward through opposites. A journey that takes a lifetime.



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The ear-worm.

You ever get an ear-worm?

You know; the repetitive sounds that float through your mind. They might be fun, they might be distressing. They can exist in the myriad of emotions we call ‘humanity’.

Humanity, after all, is emotion and its impact on us. Without our emotions, what do we do but plod?

So when you have an ear-worm, how does it affect you? Does it make you smile, or does it make you cry? It can do both, I assume, it depends on your character. It depends on your lifestyle. It can depend on your frame of mind.

So when you have an ear-worm, do you enjoy its sound? Does the noise go up and down, or does it conform to a rhythm. Does it promote your sense of identity, or detract from it? Are you motivated by the sound, or does it bring you into despair?

So, the ear-worm, it lives and becomes you. The noises dictate your movement. The noises dictate your rhythm. Ear-worms dictate our actions. Ear-worms make us cry.

Repetitive sound. Repetitive sound. Repetitive sound. Speak it out in your mind. Repetitive sound. Is it making its mark? Is it living there yet? Repetitive sound.

It likes to make its home in the emotions. It likes to make its home in the actions. There it is.  A recurring jingle. A recurring thought. A recurring jingle.

Dah dah dah dah, dah dah dah dah dah, dah-dah-dah.

Is it harmful? Is it playful? Does it make you laugh or cry? Both.

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I’ve written very little in the last few days. I’m lost for ideas, sans creativity. This is strange, as my behaviour has become a lot more erratic in the last few days, which usually heralds a creative spike in my writing.This time, nada. So, here’s some prose-poetry about nothing:


Nothing I find very interesting. I can talk about it for hours.

Nothing is something I really enjoy talking about. I love to discuss it in daily life, at work or at home, the nuance of the ‘nothingness’ and in the vapid way in which I do it. Take for example, you’ve had a busy day at work, then come home to find me, sitting at the table, with book, with mug, gleefully staring at you, from your arduous day. I sit there and talk at you. I talk at you, through you, and beyond you. I don’t think about how you are. I want to talk to you about nothing. Nothing I find very interesting. I can talk about it for hours.

Nothing can vary. It can be about what I did that day. It can be how I read a book that is about nothing. It can be about the coffee I drank, that tasted of nothing. There I still sit, book in hand, coffee on table; glee. You stare back. You try to get a word in edge ways. I continue to talk about the Romans, and how Caesar invaded Gaul. I talk through you. Caeser is very interesting. Nothing is very interesting.

Did you know that Caesar is spellt with a hard ‘C’?  So very interesting. I can talk about it for hours.

A daily pursuit of nothing. There are many nothings in the shop that I can buy on a daily basis. I chop them up and put them in a pan, waiting to eat. I like to cook. I’ll tell you about it whilst I cook. You have to know why I cook. It’s interesting. I need to tell you. If I can’t tell you then there’s something wrong. I need to talk about nothing. Nothing is essential. Nothing is important.

Nothing is very interesting. I can talk about it for hours. Did you know that obsessive talking and reassuring one’s knowledge on the world is a symptom of nothing? I find these types of things very interesting. I can talk to you about them for hours. No, don’t interrupt me. I need to talk to you.  I’ll keep talking about nothing. Nothing I find very interesting. I can talk about it for hours.

How was your day? I can sometimes arrive at it. I can sometimes forget to talk about nothing. Nothing is very interesting, but I want to talk about you too. But then again, I need to talk about nothing. I need to talk about my perceptions. I need to talk. I can talk about anything. I can talk about nothing.

Sometimes I don’t like talking about nothing, but that doesn’t stop me talking about nothing. Nothing is a comfort. Nothing is essential. Did you know that the etymology or the word ‘crumpet’ comes from the Welsh word ‘crempog’ which means pancake?

I like people to know I know things. I like talking about nothing. Without that, there’s nothing.

Nothing I find very interesting. I can talk about it for hours.


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A new venture?


I’ve just spent the last part of today musing an idea of uploading a video about some of my views on the current political climate. It’s now upon my youtube channel, and it’s decent enough.

I would like to expand some of my thoughts into the video medium, but of course find writing much easier. I’m not close to even being an amateur when it comes to Greek politics, but I find it interesting to talk about and open a discussion none the less. I hope to learn more in coming weeks.

But If you do watch I hope you enjoy the video. I look forward to your feedback!

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