Ah, how I love to mock.

Another essay for you:

There is a proposal to convert a disused farmhouse in your neighbourhood into a disco. Write a letter to your local council strongly objecting to this development and stating your reasons as to why it should be stopped.

10th September 2010

Dear Mayor,

if you are honestly taking this beautiful relic of the village and turning it into a vessel of sin, shame on you!

Did you really think that all the practising and devout Catholic residents would stand down and watch what was one a lovely home into a house of temptation? We, the residents, have discussed this matter for about ten minutes before old Mr. Mallia had to use the bathroom and we all sort of drifted off-topic. He was gone for a frightfully long time. Almost makes you wonder how lonely he must be without his wife. Who would've guessed that she would die in such a freak full-contact rugby accident? But I digress.

As I was saying, this disco thing should not be built. Think of our grandchildren coming to visit on the weekends. They will witness this drunken debauchery only a few times before they start to imitate it. They grew up in purely Catholic homes with strong faith and a strict Catholic upbringing, God knows they are sponges when it comes to picking up and emulating all they see and hear. It will be impossible to say our prayers with that hideous noise coming from just down the road. I deplore you and anyone who wants to instil this loud and unholy thing into our lives. We are all quite advanced in age and the sound will also interfere with our hearing aids.

I strongly believe that, since we Roman Catholics are, by far, morally superior to all those ruffians and Godless hooligans, we should have the final say. I urge you to do the right thing and appease us, the Lord will reward you generously.

Thank you for your patience and understanding,

Mrs Testaferrata Moroni Viani

Travel

I'll be posting my amusing essays on here just because it looks like I blog regularly.

Travel

It isn't hard to notice that the majority of all travel stories heard and read are about places enjoyed or places one "must" visit. What about the other side of the coin?

Somalia, formerly known as the "Somali Democratic Republic" when under Communist rule, is arguably the worst place on Earth. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if there was some warrant out for my life because I've had the audacity to mention Somalia in this essay. It is possible to visit, you simply need a few hundred armed guards with you so that you might just be able to escape alive, albeit raped and wounded. I think my main reason for being attracted to this war-torn nation is the piracy. Honestly now, who wouldn't want to meet a real swashbuckler? Possibly the people who have just been shot by one.

Another place that I must mention is the Democratic Republic of the Congo, mostly because I find its name ironically amusing. the sexual violence itself is considered the worst in the world; the children are either trained killers or prostitutes; and the peace treaty signed in 2003 was completely ignored to the point that there have been about five and a half million deaths attributed to unnecessary violence but, hey, at least they don't speak French. Oh, they do that too? Now I can't think of a reason why you'd want to visit. In fact, I don't see why anybody would want to. Bloody French!

Finally, my personal favourite "Democratic People's Republic", the "Stalinist Theme Park" itself, North Korea. Luckily for us Maltese, we can visit very easily, all we need it to go through about a million forms and technicalities. You have to pity anyone from the US or South Korea, which actually do have a difficult time getting in, the main difficulty being downright denial of access. Once you do get into everyone's favourite single-party state, you can start enjoying the theme park's rides. You must remember to keep your arms and legs in check at all times and to not stray away from your government-issued bodyguard because you will be shot. Everyone speaks about countries having their own history and culture, North Korea has its own version of current world news too! Good old Kim. I can't think of why not to visit.

It isn't always about dream destinations, you know. Sometimes nightmare destinations are just so much more interesting.

Darryl Bruno (14th December 1989 - 4th August 2010)

On the 4th of August, the world lost a brilliant person. Possibly one of the coolest, most down-to-earth people I have ever met. My writing can certainly never begin to justify just what an incredible person he was, but I try anyway.

I remember when I first met him when I was 11 and he was 13. I was always a geek, I was always picked on and bullied as a young 'un, but he was always cool to me. He always treated me as an equal. There were only a handful of older kids that bothered to talk to the younger ones, let alone treat the outcasts as equals, I was blown away. One might say I looked up to him, both emotionally and literally, seeing as he was a foot taller at least.

He went through so many phases since then, some more amusing than others. I remember there was a time when he used to play the trombone and he was pretty much obsessed with the village feast; then I remember his rapper phase; I also remember his DJ phase. When he left school, and I stopped seeing him twice a day, he began his "rocker" phase. Long hair, beard, guitar, drums, screaming vocals and loud music - the works.

It was in the last 3 years or so that he probably really discovered himself, seeing as he stuck with this lifestyle and made many good friends, none of which had anything negative to say about him. He was an awesome person to everyone.

I saw him a couple years later, about a year ago, and we had only spoken a little online since we stopped seeing each other but we both recognised each other. It took him about 2 minutes to come up to me yelling "AAAWWWW MATE!", in his signature fashion. I saw him maybe six time this year, the last of which being a month ago. He was looking progressively worse but I always attributed it to him being drunk and/or high. I didn't know of his more serious health problems.

Those bastards got him in the end and here we are. I can't possibly say all I would have said to him given one more opportunity to speak to him, I just know that I bawled like a little girl who just got her period at his funeral. But now let's stop mourning his death and start celebrating his life. As is written in a song by one of his favourite bands, Killswitch Engage, "I mourn for those who never knew you".

Until we meet again, I will miss you and keep you alive in my memory and in my heart Darryl, see you mate.

Goodbye?

When people ask me what I'm afraid of, I say being alone. I don't mean independence, the gods know I like that. I would give my left arm for more of it - which is ironic seeing as it would make me more dependant, but I digress.

What I mean is the feeling that you are completely alone. Sure, there are many "friends" and many people who claim to be there for you, but you know you can't really trust them. I mean loneliness. Just not being able to speak to anyone, finding yourself alone, feeling like you have nobody in the world. This is my fear.

So it really isn't a wonder why I constantly ask myself, "Why the hell do you keep pushing people away?". The answer being because I'd rather push people away than have to say goodbye because it's just the end of a friendship. I can't stand goodbyes though unfortunately, with my character flaws pushing everyone away, I have to settle for many "WELL FUCK YOU THEN"s, and I've heard more than my fair share of those.

I have nothing but a mask I hide behind to pretend to be strong. I have nobody but myself, in the end, and that is true for everyone else too. I can list so many other things to say but that would be even more boring than this already is.

Goodnight the interwebz.

A bottle of Jack and some blues.

All I want right now, nay, need ... is proper relaxation. I need to learn to kick back and go into that trance-like state that is more commonly referred to as apathy. Alas, I fear I am incapable of entirely switching off. I am plagued with this compulsion to care.

I love to be an arse because it is calming to me when I know I can play with my words and bullshit around. Sometimes, when shit is happening, you just need to speak. You might not be saying anything to anyone in particular, but you know that you feel good saying it.

I've always talked too much. It was the main problem at all my little parent-teacher meetings because, god knows I had to be perfect in school. My dad has always had this plan for how my life was supposed to turn out. I wasn't supposed to get into music and veer into a life of carelessness with no investment and no enthusiasm for formal education. I was meant to become a doctor or a lawyer - any money-making professional, really. As long as I had money, that's all that mattered. The reality is, the money I do make, I spend almost instantly. The only times I have saved money, I've spent a mass of it on guitars and things surrounding them later on. I have left school, returned, and been kicked out again the following year.

There is one outcast in my vast family, one black sheep, my cousin Alex. He taught my other cousin to play guitar quite a few years back. That one is a doctor now, but Alex is still a struggling musician of over 40 years of age with a wife and a child and not much money at all to his name. He subsequently also started me off on guitar. When I used to ask why I wouldn't hear much about Alex in my younger years, I was always told that he was a disgrace to the family for never studying and not getting anywhere. He got his O levels at 14 and nearly got kicked out of the last year of secondary at 15 because he just couldn't be fucked afterwards. Surprise surprise, here I am. Three years older than he was at the time, out of school, no real money to my name which I don't plan to spend on guitars and an extended family who still thinks I'm in school because my parents are afraid to tell them about me. At least Alex had a brother to make the family proud, I'm all my parents have.

Don't get me wrong, I want to go to University at a point, but I have a year or two until that. Doing A levels on their own won't be easy, but it's a damn sight better doing them out of school. Funny things, teaching establishments. There are a few truly amazing people that make it a proper educational experience and others who are so prone to the sit-down-shut-up-listen-to-me-and-fuck-off attitude who, it goes without saying, make it anything but.

I have plenty more things on my mind, but I must learn to avoid brooding. It's just not worth it in the end. I've always prided myself on not holding grudges, and I will stick by that. In the end, all I need, is a bottle of Jack and some blues.

Goodnight the interwebz.

Fuck quotations, I'm not bothered.

This blog is about that ever inspiring topic of relationships.

I have had my fair share of them. I don't intend on being alone because I'm not the type of person that does well alone. I need someone in my life I believe I can trust and count on more than any other friend. Yes, we all have our friendships and I have been very fortunately blessed with many of those also, but that one relationship we need is always going to be too important to just try and do without.

I've tried speaking about love, while going through a lot of shit, on my youtube channel, but, of course, such a taboo subject is put through so much ridicule that it can't be taken seriously as a subject any more. No one can mention love or relationships in public without fearing ridicule from the great minds and thinkers of society.

I can't understand why relationships are viewed as such a liability. Yes, people risk and get hurt, but isn't that true with pretty much every other thing in life that is worth having or doing? For fuck's sake, how badly hurt do you have to be to prefer to reject any future closeness? Please, tell me, because I've been depressed and broken for years and years of my life, and I'm still looking for that closeness. Perhaps I am a complete fool. A relationship with someone in particular is supposed to be an extension of friendship. Why else would someone want to get to know someone before taking that next step? It is just ridiculous how, after getting the closeness some claim to want, they become terrified of losing it to the point where they end up over-thinking the mere foundation of the friendship within itself and end up losing it anyway.

I've seen and heard of this phenomenon happening a preposterous number of times, but it will never stop. As long as humans are humans and therefore they are ignorant and afraid of getting out of the little bubble that they think keeps them safe, most opportunities will be lost.

You may call me an opportunist, but, I'd rather be an opportunist and be turned down knowing that I tried, than a safe man in a safe relationship wondering what would have happened had I taken the risk on the person I knew I should have taken it on. I don't know about you, but I wouldn't be able to live with myself if that were to happen.

Good night.

"Health is the greatest gift, contentment the greatest wealth, faithfulness the best relationship." - Buddha

First thing's first, apologies for not posting in a while but I'm sure nobody cares either way so let's move on, shall we?

I've been locked up in my house for the past week seeing as I couldn't even stand up at the beginning of it due to my back acting up. My lack of health has finally caught up with me and not a minute too soon what with the operation in precisely a week. I had quite a few plans this weekend but they've all gone down the drain. It has been so bloody annoying too! My god! One minute it's completely fine, another I'm trying to scratch my epidermis off and another I'm hoping that I will be killed in some freak accident (I choose a freak accident for the attention, everyone knows I'm an attention whore). I have to be genuinely thankful for the care and interest shown to be by a great number of people about it, even sore bastards have said that I will be missed at points.

Moving on. The last thing I did do before taking a forced hiatus from the outside world is go to Earth Garden. I would explain what that is if I had an international audience, but I don't, so I won't. It was quite a grand conclusion to the days before irritation-induced seclusion. Inadvertently the many hours spent there probably caused the immediate and abrupt ending of my tolerance for my back, but enough moaning about it.

Needless to say, I've been maintaining solid contact with the outside world through electronic means and it really is a wonder why I haven't written anything on this for a while. Not like I don't have the time seeing as I do pretty much nothing all day and I barely sleep at all either, as the time stamp of this post will prove. I think it all comes down to the fact that there really is nothing in particular pushing me to update this blog except maybe some sort of competitive impulse if I notice that Ben is catching up to me in number of blog posts. I know it sounds ridiculous but it's true. I spoke with Jonathan - who writes the blog "Insight" that I link on the side - about this blog and just writing in general and he put forward the interesting point that it is a lot different writing because of inspiration and writing with deadlines. Right now, I have followed neither of those. My deteriorating health isn't a help in the inspiration front and, as far as I'm concerned at this moment, fuck deadlines.

This is what an insomniac rambling looks like.

Good morning the interwebz.

I'll post something worth reading eventually.