Saturday, 11 October 2014

Bad Propaganda

I don't care, Schneckens...
Yes. I keep listening to that auto tuned swine Cheryl Coles' song 'I Don't Care'. Lyrically it is basic as Sainsbury's home brand jam and it is so auto tuned you can actually hear the sounds of the editing programme working furiously in the background. Ah, modern music, eh!

So yesterday was Friday and like the last few weeks, I spent it in my home town, Walthamstow... Or did I? Yeah, pretty much. Went to the Angel as well, which I'll move onto in a minute or two. Firstly, I met up with my mom (Ruby K) yesterday afternoon and it was weird. I mean, we are weird folks, but this was something entirely off the scale. First of all, I discovered my microphone in my phone is busted, so anyone who has tried phoning me will be unable to hear me well.. Mystery solved; so perhaps either invest in supersonic hearing or simply just text me.. So once that was established, we ate some pasta and it wasn't my finest hour. I looked like a student - the top half was acceptable, yet the bottom half just looked like I couldn't give a shit. But that's fine, it's not like anyone important is going to see me... FUCK. Yep, as you can guess, I bumped into someone. Not just anyone though, no, no that would be too easy. I bumped into my "sex god". There was nothing sexy about me at that exact moment, so in a space of the quickest and swiftest conversation ever, I'm probably not going to Portugal... However, he didn't look that sexy himself. In fact, as I watched him seemingly waddle away, like a pregnant duck, I actually thought to myself 'Wait, do I think that's attractive?!' I don't know why I suddenly pondered this, maybe it is because I no longer see the world with rose tinted glasses and more with a bleak, half empty shot glass, but I didn't find him that enticing. In fact, I was unaffected.. Maybe it was the shirt - it wasn't a flattering shirt. Anyway, here's pics with me and my mom cos we're hella fly like that.

Later that night, I bravely ventured to the outside world. That's not even an exaggeration - do you know how dangerous it is in Walthamstow?! It was the night of Ruby's birthday celebration, so myself and a few other of her friends - Bart, Jacob and Karolis - went to club Propaganda in Angel. I had low expectations to begin with, so I wasn't entirely disappointed when it turned out to be a shit night. Now, Ruby didn't want me to mention it, but I will stress - I simply don't like clubbing, so I was never going to like it and given my fragility at the moment, it was far too much for me to take so soon. It was only the club that was shit because the rest of the night was actually really nice. We went to her new house afterwards and I was evidently more relaxed because I was actually speaking to the others and I wasn't shaking out of sheer terror anymore. It was nice just to sit in a room and talk - talk and be able to hear the conversation with ease. That's my kinda night and I enjoyed that aspect. So if I was a clubber, or simply in a better place, Propaganda probably would've been amazing and I would've shook what my mama gave me, but neither of those things were to true to the reality in which I call life. But, and I will keep stressing it - it was a nice night once I got out of that shithole and got to a place where I felt comfortable and safe; and able to stay calm, because I was freaking out in that club. It simply wasn't for me, but hey, at least I tried.

Toodles :) 

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