I do not like change.
I do not like change.
I always walk this way.
I do not like change.
I like memorising facts.
I like memorising facts.
Bible, Premiership stats.
I like memorising facts.
I’ve got stickerbook pick.
I’ve got stickerbook pick.
You, you talk too quick.
I’ve got stickerbook pick.
I do not like touch.
I do not like touch.
You, you talk too much.
I do not like touch.
you'll never find strife in here! scribings say my life is not like another, writings say my life just isn't the same. troublings of a twenty-two year old anaemic executive. donations welcome. critique accepted. artwork desired///// geeksandbeats @ googlemail.com. merci, bises.
under company instructions, at lunch time I went to Tesco to begin stockpiling with the list we were given. I emailed it to my dad for my family and a couple uncles and aunts. it's routine stuff, damn heavy though! we were all given laboratory strength sanitizer as well, in handy pen size.
Bristol this weekend is going to be pristine, i've never been west before. i want to see if it is exactly like Skins, and i'm going to bring home cider in a paint bucket.
News just in from my dad: my mum has now claimed my bike for "fitness" purposes. I know I haven't been home in a while but jeez... Portsmouth is no place for biking. And by that I mean it is perfect for biking.. www.strong-island.co.uk set up bike events all the time and they are always amazing, and there is not one damn hill in Portsmouth so you can be as free as you like. But someone, somewhere will take your bike, that is a guarantee. There was even a British guy who travelled round the world on this one bike and was on his way back to his home in the Midlands after using the same bike the whole way through. He came up through France to the Portsmouth border, locked his bike up outside for the night to stop off. Woke up in the morning and some arse had stolen it. That is the extent of the problem we face in Portsmouth. I have decided that I will reward myself with a new bike when I get back from New York... I might even get it whilst i'm there haha....
Not many people are familiar with "Scanjet" as a music genre, so named as the first songs of their kind were made with nothing but programmed Brother/HP scanjet scanners. I'm quite a fan, I had a Spectrum as a kid and I like music made with computer software as it goes. So, music made with computer hardware is like asking a blind man what his friend looks like - difficult, people disapprove of it, but it can be done, and when done it's priceless.
Ben Snewin is a hero, brair and dem mans dem. Basically amazing. He and his Individual Threads hoody are essentially one entity. And he keeps me entertained with stories of his friends doing all sorts of stuff. Funducation.
Everyone is going mental at work for this Swine flu thing.
Only from a captialist approach, obviously - lots of money to be made from Government panicking.
Hadn't realised it had been moved up a level since yesterday, over 1,000 cases confirmed and over 125 deaths. We were given instructions on what to do in a pandemic situation - mostly take your laptop, stay in your room, put on gloves and mask and sit tight.
Mexico anyone? But seriously - interesting/turbulent times are coming.
Beach bonfire. What a delight. Happy 23rd Rachie! It was fun, I love fire.
Shortly after this photo was taken, Ben (who was reaching new levels of tox, and was in a different world) probably perplexed at constantly being reminded to back away from the fire in case he fell into it - wanted to prove his 'soberness' by effectively somersaulting over the 3ft by 3ft burning stack of pallets. He followed through, i'll give him that, and jumped off the other side, sitting down to, again, sip his beverage. The rest off us (around 30 or so) stared in disbelief, taking comfort in the fact that everyone saw it too, and it was not a figment of our strongly transitioned mindsets. Too bad his landing was about 2 inches too short and he singed off his infamous fringe. Inadvertant wafros are something not to be dealt with lightly.
R.I.P. JG Ballard - I'm sorry I thought that your novel "Crash" inspired the 2004 film about racial and social tensions in LA of the same name. I'm going to purchase Empire of the Sun just to make up for it.
Get better Stephen Hawking - this fucking world needs you, please stay for one more decade, maybe you could solve global warming or something.
I went house-hunting today - ever since hearing the news at work I have been stressing and crying and moaning about how i'm going to make this all work. Sure, it was time to leave Portsmouth, but London had always been the next logical step (or Canada - make lots of money). The two original choices for life were: Plan A - Work in current job for a little bit, then magically get picked up to do a masters in Health Policy and live out my hopes and dreams helping kids in Africa get adequate health treatment by telling the governments to stop buying guns every 2 weeks. Plan B - Work in current job for a while, sell soul and moral fibre to the regulatory world. Become director of Reg Affairs in 10 years. Earn six-figure salary and have a house in Wiltshire. Live with ever increasing guilt at selling my dreams for a quick buck.
It seems that an unmistakable Plan C has cropped up: Carry on with current job, embrace new responsibilities. Move house to accomplish new responsibilities. Work harder that I have ever worked before in my entire life. Try for an executive position. Get told no due to budget cuts. Lose will to live. Plan to move again. Plan to work even harder for the next year. Try to attain a position at head office. Work for 3 years in the most stable and profitable pharmaceutical company in the world, and scrimp and save to get £12,000 to do masters in Health Policy and live out my hopes and dreams helping kids in Africa get adequate health treatment by telling the governments to stop buying guns every 2 weeks.
Plan C it is. Moving to Guildford in six - eight weeks. Hoping for some medical affairs experience at Royal Surrey, for sure getting some exposure at Head Office Frimley. On Weds, my deposit should go through for a room in this house:
my room is the box room but I don't care. I met the other housemates today: one's a sociologist and a Prison Welfare Manager, one is the HR Manager for top 3 investment bank Bank of America (formerly Merryll Lynch), and one is aTechnical Operations manager for her brother's company in Guildford. I am the manager of organising my converse in my cupboard. I felt a little out of my depth. After what felt like the Spanish Inquisition, I decided they were nice enough girls - even though they are 29/30 and holiday in places like Dubai. Center Parcs will do for me. They were really impressed that I went to Fabric at Easter though, said I had to take them one time. I think that swayed it. Within the hour I had the landlord phone me, offering me the room.
Afterwards, I rang (in this order); Taxi, Sam, Sam again, Mum, Dad, Mum again, Emma, Phil, Phil, Phil, Mum and Molly. On the most part I was blubbering about being scared about moving away on my own. Comments recieved: Taxi - "That'll be 7.40 please", Sam - "6 hours and no break, that's illegal right? I'll be having words", Mum - "Have you sorted out an action plan yet? What do you mean you haven't?! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?", Dad - "Er, I gotta go.", Emma - " What a fucking prick, come have a beer", Phil - " I have 40 kinds of Helveteca on my computer, good times. I almost bought a HEALTH t-shirt, but I bought a milkshake instead", Molly - "STILL HAVEN'T GOT DAMN INTERNET!".
Sat again on my bed, I looked out the window whilst denying various requests of social activity on my mobile (I have a 6.20am train to catch to the Danubuis Hotel in Regent's Park - Life Cycle Management training - maybe I get to be a 'management' after all) and listened to HEALTH (easily influenced). I really hope this goes well because I need for this to go well. I am pretty scared, and there is nothing I can do... except warn everyone - corporate life is the most ripplingly terrifying in the world. Hello Surrah, Goodbye Ampsheer.
Plus I need to start driving or I ain't going nowhere!
Things are not good right now, Things are not... good. They are not good right now.
Yesterday I saw:
And today I will be seeing the above, PLUS:
The band just above are called the Invisible. They also played yesterday, they are a very creamy mix of Chk Chk Chk and TVOTR. I spoke to the lead singer yesterday and he told me they are Room One at Ten. I can't be late.
Seeing the amazing LA kids tonight, Nick and Leah along with Coco, Jackie, Maja, Poppy and whoever else was able to swing a press pass.
I wish I had my other nostril back already. I had a phonecall with one of my agencies, and she basically said "To go far in your career, you gotta move to Cheshire."
desktop photo. jakartan Kids on railway track. what a weird place to play.
