Fiction Hangover: My version of Depression

So lately I've been reading too much.


But Rachel, you say, how can you read TOO MUCH? Surely it's better than loosing your brains in TV or PS2 games (*cough* guilty).

Yeah, well, some of your brains may turn to cottage cheese when you stare at a screen, but printed paper does that to me.

So I'm reading about 150 - 180 pages a day. Naturally, I start having favourite characters among the ones I'm meant to like equally, taking sides in fights that get resolved on the next page and actually getting pissed when my character gets overruled at tribunals even when there's a happy ending.

Now as I think I've said before, I'm studying William Blake at school. I have an essay (thanks, Teach) to hand in next Monday (as this week's work experience week - joy!) and I'm about half way through it.

This is where my reading habits are getting dangerous.

I keep thinking... bollocks... essay... write it... oh, never mind, this isn't real anyway.

I then have to mentally punch myself and yell "FOOL!" over and over again until I realise I don't belong in the caves/castle/seedy bar I had been reading about, and that my life is not the dream but the reality.

And the reality of my life at the moment is:
If I don't write about the flea-whispering son of a b*tch I'm in deep sh*t a week tomorrow.

Books I've gotten lost in recently:

Crying-Girl-Fans : The definition of piss takes

A trip to the cinema rarely inspires me to write a poem, but after being DRAGGED to see the 'Jonas Brothers 3D Concert Experience' today (don't ask - my friends... yeah, they're suckers for Disney, but they're taking me to Coraline 3D to make up for it :D) well, I couldn't help it.
So after 1.5 hours of staring blankly at sobbing girls and colourful, homemade signs sporting slogans such as "JOE: WILL YOU MARRY ME?" I came home and wrote.
Here's the result.
(N.B: This is not anything to do with the Jonas Brothers. They look pretty nice guys, it's the fans I'm against)

Wear your dress like a belt
And your hair like a ruler
His heart’s gonna melt
And you’ve never been surer
You’ll stand out in the crowd
And draw your babe’s eyes
Say his name loud
And be heard over the cries
Of course he will marry you
Though you’ve never met
You'll give him a view
He won’t ever forget

Wake up, little girl
You’re no different at all
From the thousands who twirl
To his music and fall
Head over heels
For a pretty pin up
Don’t care what he feels
You’re not giving up

Be fair on the boy
What’s he gonna do?
Choose the prettiest toy
Until that’s broken too
Free sex and great praise
From a girl who don’t care
That she’s just a phase
Like some new shoes to wear
He’s not god upon high
Just human, you see
And just think while you cry
How cruel they can be

So excuse him for running
And not stopping to chat
Using all of his cunning
To avoid ‘all of that’
For the truth in my mind
Is that he is a saint
For leaving you girls behind
And putting up with complaint
He don’t want to hurt you
But you’re making it hard
Not to have a one-night screw
With the most easy girl-fan retard

Something from School

Just noticed this, made me think of Blogger. Yeah, I love ya ;)

Some key features of a Romantic (poet) include:
An obsession with childhood

A desire for freedom

A love of nature; they link nature with spirituality

An occupation with supernatural elements

The importance of an individual

Feelings are more important than thoughts: one should obey the heart not the head

Support the little man against the system

Seeing time as fleeting, meaning we should seize the day. This idea is often seen through the death of children.

Placing importance on visions; seen as bringing man closer to God.

References of Boredom

I like English, okay?
I'm good at it, I understand it, and I enjoy it.
But sometimes, it gets tedious.

William Blake.
What more do I have to fucking say? The guy had visions, meaningful dreams and regular conversations with Archangels, his dead brother and a flea. Yup. A flea. So, yes, he's a strange guy (although apparently a romantic, so I guess he's welcome here :D). But when you've spent an hour analysing the same eight lines, doesn't time drag?
I don't know what you do when you're bored in class, but my mind tends to wander to the things that I enjoy more then what I'd be doing.
Usually?
Books of course.
A couple of films make it in there too. Here, for example, I found myself using a phrase out of Cornelia Funke's The Thief Lord.

You know what Scipio says. Children are caterpillars and adults are butterflies. No butterfly ever remembers what it was like being a caterpillar.

I called the nurse in the poem "a total butterfly" without realising that nobody would know what that meant until my friend asked to see my notes.

Another example of this would be when I quoted a Disney film in an RE assessment.

The world's the same size. There's just less in it.

Yup. Cap'n Jack Sparrow, At World's End. In case you're interested, I got an A :)

A Total Filler...

... just til I find something else to write about, I thought I'd grace you all with some words of wisdom from the most quoteable man in fiction: DCI Gene Hunt (seen on Life on Mars and Ashes to Ashes (thank God he's back, life had begun to sound too sweet)).

- Anything happens to this motor, I'll come around your houses and stamp on all your toys. Got it? Good kids.

- Sam Tyler: This place is like Guantanamo Bay.
Gene Hunt: Keep off, it's nothing like Spain.

- Sam Tyler: If it was to do with football, he'd have serious injuries.
Gene Hunt: He's dead. That's quite serious.

- Y'know, I'd listen to the snot in my hankie before I'd listen to you.

- Gene Hunt: I think you've forgotten who you're talking to.
Sam Tyler: An overweight, over-the-hill, nicotine-stained, borderline-alcoholic homophobe with a superiority complex and an unhealthy obsession with male bonding?
Gene Hunt: You make that sound like a bad thing.

- Good work, Raymondo. I'm bumping you back up to DS... only this time make it stand for Detective Sergeant and not Dog Shit!

- Sam Tyler: Woman in her twenties, dead.
Gene Hunt: Well I didn't think she was sunbathing, did I?!!!

- Drugs eh? What's the point. They make you forget, make you talk funny, make you see things that aren't there. My old grandma got all of that for free when she had a stroke.

- You great... soft... sissy... girlie... nancy... french... bender... Man-United supporting POOF!!

- He's got fingers in more pies than a leper on a cookery course .

- This case is going like a spastic in a magnet factory.

- She's as nervous as a very small nun at a penguin shoot.

- I think she’s as fake as a tranny’s fanny

- You are surrounded by armed bastards!

- Mrs. Tyler: I've got a son called Sam.
Gene Hunt: I've got a pain in the arse called Sam.

- Your so paranoid, Sam, that you don't fart out of fear of crapping yourself!

- I'm not a religious man Mr Warren - but isn't there something in the Bible that says, thou shalt not suck off rent boys?

-Sam:I should be driving y'know
Gene: You drive like my aunt Mable.
Sam: If you injure somebody in this car, it's technically a criminal offence.
Gene: Oh Shut up, you noncy arsed fairy-boy.
Sam: Such elegant banter.

Well said, Sam. But would we love Gene Hunt if he didn't swear at little kids who only want an ice cream?

He's totally my hero.