Depression, lol.

Throughout my life I have always struggled with the truth. But that doesn't make me a liar.
I would much rather just say things to keep the peace than cause complete chaos. Things from "yes, of course I'm eating", "I'm completely happy with this situation, it doesn't even bother me" and perhaps the worst of all - "I love you too." The lies were never malicious, and the only person I really ended up hurting was myself. Because for reasons unknown I've always put my deeper emotions away, and would rather please the person asking so they had no worries or doubts. Even being a serial "I love you-er" first became something I was, because I believed it would be what the other person wanted to hear. It killed me inside because despite the emotion not ever growing once, I began to feel like if I clung onto that person, I wouldn't ever be alone. Growing up on the cusp of the Twitter and Instagram generation, it truly helped me to write and post things that would prove to the outside world that I was happy, because for some unknown reason, that was more important than me actually being happy.

It took me a long long time to understand that a big part of my life is depression. For me, not getting up out of bed til 5PM was normal, laying in bed for days not wanting to really interact with another person was normal. Not wanting to open the curtains and crying until my face hurt was normal. A lot of deeper, darker things that I did, were normal. I honestly thought that coming to university would save me, and for a while I was happy, until I realised depression comes in waves. Imagine standing on a rock in the middle of the ocean, you have no escape but the sea is calm. Then a cloud over casts the sky, and you know its coming. Lightening strikes in the distance and the obvious sound of thunder fills your ears. The sea begins to become choppy. And from all angles, all of a sudden are giant tidal waves. You're stuck on a rock, you can't move, you can't do anything about it. You must face that these waves are about to crash over you, and you must endure it until the waves stop coming. You're alone, scared and you don't see a way that you can save yourself. You could, in theory let the waves take you, give up and let them do what they will until you are no longer a living, breathing person. Or, you could hold on. Hold on until the waves stop, then either continue to stand on the rock and wait for the waves to come again, or swim until you find the shore. It doesn't matter if perhaps while swimming you get half way and you can't see a shore, it's too scary to do that journey right now, standing on the rock is what you know, so you go back. It means you tried, and it means that next time, you can swim a little further. That, is what it's been like to live inside my head for a very, very long time.

The feeling of abandonment is never, ever something I want another person to go through. And if they already have, then to go through it alone. Your parents are meant to provide you with unconditional love. Unconditional - not subject to any conditions. So why growing up was I a subject of condition to one parent? The bursting love of my main parent and all those who surrounded them engulfed me, but for some reason, in my head, or perhaps heart, it was never enough. I spent the most part of my childhood scared by men, and then the most part of my young adult life trying to control them. I found it very hard to respect men; which equalised to me not having a lot of respect for myself. I began to put myself in head spaces that I couldn't comprehend, by doing things that made me question whether they made me the person I would always be, or the person I desperately did not want to be. Being a slutty serial monogamist became part of me; and perhaps always will be part of my past. But then I met someone. 

The timing wasn't right. The situation was perfect. So I did something that I haven't ever done before. I hurt people to discover what would make me happy. Almost instantly I was infatuated, and very soon after I realised I was in love. Six months ago, I would've cringed at writing that. My body would've tensed and I would've probably deleted this whole post and wrote "lol sex is good init, fuckin love dicks" - or something to that effect, maybe a little more eloquently. But life is different now, the rock that I was stuck on now has a boat in front of it, driven by the most beautiful soul I could ever meet. A lot of people do not believe in loving someone before you love yourself, a statement in which I am guilty of professing to many people. But sometimes, in order to love yourself, you have to let someone in to show you that you are capable of being loved. Sometimes I return to the rock, and the boat isn't always in front of me, but it's around. It'll row next to me while I swim, guiding me to shore. That's called help. And anyone that has ever experienced exactly what I've just described needs it. I hope you find your boat, whatever it may be.  

NYLON FUCKING SKY!

WHO THE FUCK ARE NYLON SKY - PROMO

There are massive things coming from my team and these dickwads very, very soon.
This is all I'm giving you for now. Check it.

Winchester//

For reasons unknown (or too boring, or too long to type), bands with an immense amount of potential sometimes don't push what they're selling down your throats in the same way Radio 1 rectally forced LTA's latest album upon you. So I'm taking it upon myself to show off these guys.
Winchester, a three piece alternative rock band from Surrey (more or less) are some of the nicest and most talented guys in the bizznizzz. You're doing yourself a disservice not listening to this to be honest. Big things coming from these guys in the new year. Big love big love big love.

Black Peaks support Arcane Roots//The Forum Hertfordshire//30.10.14

Wassup wassup.
I hope all your Halloween's were filled with debauchery and everything else fun.
This post is a bit late coming (heh), and I can only apologise to everyone involved -insert lame excuse here-.
It's honestly just because I've not been sober in my free time.
ANYWAY.

Source

On Thursday I took to The Forum in Hatfield to watch Black Peaks (formerly Shrine) support Arcane Roots on their very short tour. I initially had two thoughts, one was, what the fuck is a Hatfield and two, please, PLEASE, don't let Black Peaks be shit live.

The quartet; that has some of the strongest hairstyles and facial hair I've encountered in a while (see picture above), is made up of Will on lead vocals, Joe on guitar and vocals, Liam on drums and Andrew on bass and vocals. These boys have been on my radar for a while, my first encounter with their music was the Say You Will video which I fucking loved. I've had a hard time with music recently, and almost lost my faith in the future of the heavy/alternative rock scene as a hell of a lot of bands being signed lately are diabolically wank. But Black Peaks are different. Say You Will had a hint of Thrice - Circles about it, if Circles was full of some of the best screaming you'd ever heard in your life. Zane Lowe (too soon? Have you all put your pitchforks down?) has been playing Say You Will a bunch of times, and the support they're receiving from Arcane Roots is something I imagine even the boys can't comprehend themselves.


Say You Will, taken from the boys EP, "Closer to the Sun" 

As I stepped into The Attic at The Forum, I was genuinely surprised at the lack of audience. Although one thing I did notice was everyone was transfixed, nobody was leaving for a smoke break or loudly chatting to their mates, we were all mesmerised. It was like everyone in the room had just inhaled some shrooms and Black Peaks were all lava lamps. Lava lamps that can play their instruments really fucking well.

In my honest opinion, Will Gardener is one of the best vocalists I've heard in a long long time. I think what impresses me most is he screams better in real life than on a recording. To be able to scream as high AND low as he can is mind blowing. As a collective though, the band is tight as fuck. Being together two years, I don't know if I can still label them under the 'new band' demographic. I'm gonna anyway, for arguments sake and because in terms of attention, they are a 'new band'. These guys are crazy good for how new they are, the bromance on stage is visible to everyone in the room, and they are genuinely entertaining to watch (is it just me or is there something oddly satisfying when you see two members of a band lock eyes and head bang in sync?). The stage presence is great, the guys aren't cocky when talking to the audience because the music speaks for itself and things are very quickly picking up for them. SOMEBODY SIGN THEM ALREADY. 

Black Peaks are proving themselves in a big way, they're making a lot of fucking noise, you all better start listening.

Like the boys on Facebook
Follow them on Twitter
Buy their EP, Closer to the Sun

Big dirty stinkin' bass

I first heard Meghan Trainor's track All About that Bass roughly four months ago on Reddit. It was posted and celebrated in their subreddit /r/trollxchromosomes which is a haven for real women to get together and talk about real women things (like douchebag boyfriends and period shits). But since it's recent hype and number one spot in the charts, people have nothing but issues with it. I don't mean the same issues I have with it, which are that she mentions bass so much she may as well be Big Narstie, and that quite frankly, it just isn't a good song. No, these women have a problem because she referrers to her fellow bra wearing vagina people as "skinny bitches" and promotes big bums cus its what "the boys like". There's only one response to the girls who think that this is a huge issue; shuuuuut the fuck up. Okay, you're entitled to your opinion, so here's mine.
Firstly, Meghan Trainor may refer to slim girls as skinny bitches, but the following line (and catchiest in my opinion) is "I'm just playing, I know you think you're fat, but I'm here to tell you every inch of you is perfect from the bottom to the top" a more important message, no? Holding on to that one line to criticise the whole song as skinny shaming is like the Westboro Baptist Church believing the moral of the Bible is that being homosexual is a sin. Yeah, it's in there, but it's not the whole point, it's not even a sub clause.
Secondly, the song is more about accepting your size yourself as a grown ass woman. She tells the guys to "run along" that aren't into bigger girls because she is not a slim woman. It's actually her mum's advice that is"the boys like a little more booty to hold at night" so if you wanna criticise anyone, criticise Meghan Trainor's Ma'. But that was probably better advice to her daughter who felt down about her weight than "get on the treadmill then, you fat fuck, how dare you insult my womb by being a size 14." I'm pretty sure all of our Mum's have given us some non - PC advice at one point in our lives, we just haven't written a song about it.

I'm not sure that the song really deserves any criticism about it's message, but girls lashing out at it is still a direct indicator that we're no closer to repairing or maintaining the sisterhood. Why aren't we celebrating another woman at number one? Girls aren't going to suddenly start stuffing their faces with pizza cus they want boys to notice their jiggly bum, we do that anyway, cus we're hungry, and cus pizza. The message "be happy with your size" is thrust down all of our throats just the same amount as "bigger is better" and "thigh gaps make you attractive". I just personally can't wait for the year of the booty to be over and hope next year we see a homage to micro penises or something.
Thanks to everyone that made me just dissect that ball bag stench of a song. Now here's Damien Rice's new track, he doesn't want to change you, thank fuck.

This Wild Life

S'up fuckers. Listen to this;



Good init. That's what over 4 million other people apparently thought of this cover, too. The sweet tones of Kevin Jordan's voice are enough to lull you into a little delicious sleep; you know, the kind where you wake up and don't hate everybody. I mean, Oli Sykes original vocals are good, really good, but there's something about a song being covered by a bearded man with an acoustic guitar that we as listeners eat up. Now tell me how many of you haven't started this video again. Cus if you haven't, go do it.

I digress (a lot), but this was the cover that got This Wild Life a lot of attention. Recently signed to Epitaph Records, the once pop-punk twosome turned acoustic band, have began making noise in a big way in the UK. Anyway, I went to The Talking Heads in Southampton (eurgh) last week to watch these two talented bastards perform. Never a dull moment in that grey city, I encountered a Spanish Catalan, a gypsy trying to steal cigarettes out of an old ashtray and quickly realised that emo ain't dead, apparently. The first support came on who's name I forget (and I'm not one to shun support acts, remember Mirror Signal?); but for the articles sake let's call them Ben Howard wannabes with less sexual tension between the lead singer and the bassist. Rob Lynch was up next who is a huge bag of talent and stage presence, joining them just off the U.S. Warped Tour where they both performed throughout. Then it got to 10pm, show time for TWL, and as I sipped my luke-warm Budweiser, remembering how much I despised it with every gulp, I was perplexed by the lack of crowd rushing into the venue in time for the guys to get on stage. Are the people of Southampton turned off by good music? Does everyone know something I don't about the Talking Heads venue? Has Ebola suddenly hit Hampshire? Whatever it was, it meant they were missing out, big time. The bromance was real, the fans were laughing, someone was shouting about tits, there was nothing not to love about the atmosphere, no matter how small the crowd. As expected for the first night of a tour, you could sense the nerves on Kevin, but he brought it back with personal anecdotes and dat whistle in Puppy Love. By their last song both Anthony and Kevin were in the full swing, and as they finished History, the crowd chanted for one more song, that they apologetically shook their heads at. Mad respect for bands that are honest about their last song. The important thing was that they left the crowd wanting more; which I'm sure with how talented these boys are, they will deliver in the new year. As I left that little venue that made me sweat more than dicks on a hot day despite the person next to me not invading my personal space, I had one thought and one thought only, these guys are gonna be huge.



To catch these guys before their tour ends, you can book tickets here.
Equally, you could tweet them some love, or buy some merch.
Regardless of whether you do all or none, just enjoy them. 

Big love x

A drop in the ocean, a change in the weather

I'm scared.
Scared of how much I want something to succeed, with such little faith that it will.
Scared of putting effort and time into something that could ultimately end up as a negative.
Life should not ever be led like this. You should dive in head first and not care about the consequences.
But what if?
What if you should stop now.
You won't ever fucking know.
What about that sad song you hear?
What if one day you can relate to it? Shit.  
Give up. Give in to it all.
Put your absolute all in to everything you do, because at least you can make something beautiful, even if you can't make it permanent.
Are you a learning curve or are you permanent?
Are you a learning curve or are you permanent?
Are you a learning curve or are you permanent?

I only want sympathy in the form of you crawling into bed with me.

Firstly I'd just like to say, Mum, if you're reading this which I know you often do, please read it in your head, and not out loud to Nan.

According to Maslow's hierarchy of needs, the human need for sex is as important as eating, breathing and sleeping. I believe anyone that's ever busted a nut could quite agree with him, however what Maslow fails to mention are some quite important factors that go beyond the y'know... (please envisage me making a circle with my thumb and finger on one hand, and my opposite index finger going in and out of said circle), that make sex less desirable.

As a human of the female variety (or as a close friend so eloquently calls us; "vagina people"), there's almost certainly a million trillion more things to worry about when it comes to ess ee ex. I mean do men even understand how difficult it is to angle our bodies so our slightly smaller boob appears to be the same size? What about the dreaded queef?! ITS JUST TRAPPED AIR BUT IT SOUNDS SO MUCH LIKE A FART AND OMG YOU CAN'T WIN CUS THERE'S A CHANCE IT WENT UNNOTICED BUT IF YOU DON'T ADDRESS IT HE MAY THINK ITS A FART. How can you tell whether it's a queef or a fart I hear you cry? Easy, girls don't fart. That's just a thing little boys do. (NB. Queefs can even occur up to 8 hours after a session. especially if you haven't moved and you know, you're just storing it all away, for later or whatever).
I shouldn't have to go on, but I will.
What about when you're caught off guard and you have T minus half hour to do something about your downstairs, because you know, he totes won't do you if your vagina looks like his dad after he's had a weekend off work (unshaven). Also let me take this opportunity to say if you go au natural then I have one word for you: STAHP. It's 2014 for fuck sake who are you Freida Kahlo? No? Right. Just so we're clear.
The expectation to look as hot AND cute as Kate Upton in that video where she dances in slow mo (you're welcome, ruddy perverts) and throw some weird ass pornstar moves into the mix that can either lead to injury or a queef, is a recipe for disaster, and also fuckin unrealistic. I also personally believe that a forceful hand on the back of the head when you've gone downtown is a breach of human rights.

I was once told by my A level English lit teacher that all women are glorified prostitutes because all men want is sex, which we give them in return for commitment, presents, cuddles, dinner etc because women are sooooo much deeper and in no way could a woman ever use a man for sex. She was a bit fucking mental though. I disagree, (although girls do have it worse) because I believe men can be completely self conscious when it comes to the dirty. You have to get then maintain a boner, while lasting for the minimum time you deem acceptable, but still actually finishing, wondering if she was being truthful when she told you that you had the largest knob out of all the guys she'd slept with. Also if you're a fairly new customer and she offers you the butthole, ask her how many guys she's slept with, double it, plus two, that's how many people that have visited her tunnel of love, and also the amount of condoms you should wear during. Just a word of advice.

All of this aside, sex is disgustingly cringe worthy, but strip it back of queefs and premature ejaculation and crymaxing, you are literally touching wee vessels, fucking get over it. Who cares if you accidentally punch them in the head, or sneeze mid dirty talk? Nobody. What you gotta remember is, for whatever reason, that person right there is with you. Not anybody else, you. That's pretty special, let go of your inhibitions, let it all hang out, laugh at the noises, cry at how beautiful or fucked up it was, smile and stop just for a second during to take it all in. But most importantly, do it for you. Not anybody else.

Also, Reddit recently posted an ask "What do you hate most about sex?" These were my fave, enjoy.