Okay, so the last entry wasn't exactly great writing. Well, neither of the last two were, though I did enjoy rambling on about a work-out plan (which has since changed in case you were interested. Being that I'm certain the only person who reads this is the one person who subscribed, my assumption is that you're not).
The first two entries came rather naturally as I felt like writing at the time. The last one I did feel like writing, but didn't know what to write about. It was more that I wanted to get something off my chest, something that would need to far to many details to make sense and I'm not willing to give such details away on what is essentially nothing more than a public exhibition into the life of Louis Gaudet. What a life that is.
Now, that something won't be so much discussed, but rather the need that that something has gotten out of me. That need, which will be discussed in full, is the need for discussion. How I yearn to talk to someone and mean every word of it. I want to feel a discussion again, not just simply have one. I want every pointless sentence that I ramble on to feel important to me, spite the topic at hand. It's not so much that this particular thing I've wanted to discuss is what is going to satisfy me, it's the discussion of life with someone on a level that actually intrigues me and motivates me. That's what I need.
This is not to say that every person I've spoken to for the last month has just bored the shit out of, far from it. In fact, I've had some marvelous experiences and conversations over the last month, met new people and have done new things; it's most certainly been one of the most productive and proactive months of my more recent life. There has plenty of new and exciting things that have happened that bring a certain level of keen for the future, and there has been plenty of drama that brings a certain level of anxiety towards some of my friendships. It's been an interesting month to say the least, but I've enjoyed it and am happy with the results.
None the less, spite the things I've achieved and the opportunities I've embraced, more than ever I feel a need to have a discussion of substantial meaning and depth. Something that embraces a complete sense of openess. How can I achieve such a thing you ask? A multitude of ways...
First of all there's sex. Now, sex itself of course will satisfy an entirely different set of needs, but it's the aftermath of sex, and not even just sex but any form of sexual experience. I don't want to give the impression that I'm King Ding-A-Ling over here, I'm most definitely not a fucking machine (or a fucking machine), but with the experiences I've had over the years there's been a handful of girls that have meant something to me on some level. It may not result to a relationship, and more often than not it's been one off, but it's still meant something to me and the experience will be a positive one that I look back fondly of. I've never done a girl wrong (or at least intentionally), and I've managed to remain friends with some of these people without mention of what we've done again, but it'll have a place for me. How I know these experiences have meant something to me, and can seperate them from the one's that I can safely call a mistake with no hesitation is based on the incredibly casual and relaxed nature of the situation. We can just sit there and chat away and it can be literally be about nothing (I can't remember half the conversations), but it would still feel like the most open I could ever be. A discussion that no matter what the topic is, it plainly examples who you are and what you're about without any hesitation whatsoever.
So that's one way I could satisfy my needs. Of course that is a way that you can't just dog for without concern of the consequences, and I'd rather not just try and fuck everything that moves.
There's the meeting of new people. That can be rewarding in a different way. With new people you are free to be who ever you want, and thus whatever your conversation is somewhat limitless. Now, some might disagree with that and find the meeting of new people completely restrictive, but what you must take into consideration is that this person might appreciate complete openess. Whereas you might fear being exposed by letting yourself free to a stranger, they might actually actually find enjoyment out of that and it could be a reason to like you all the more. That's a satisfaction that can't be matched, the ability to be whoever you like in the presence of strangers. I should mention though that I have met some people in the previous weeks, but though I may have gotten along with said people rather well (surprisingly well actually, considering my usual knack for hating everyone), it wasn't as satisfying as one would hope. Maybe it's cause it was amongst other friends and I felt like I was on display, or maybe it's cause my mind was stuck elsewhere, I don't know. Whatever the case, this time meeting new people didn't work.
Spontaneity. The quality of being spontaneous. That's another, and probably plays a heavy role into the meeting of new people thing. Now, there have been moments over the last month where I have been surprisingly spontaneous, which I won't go into detail now (let's just say that they could cause social ruination and possible incarcerations for acting like goldie-locks), and those have brought an intense amount of satisfaction to my needs, but in turn actually heightened my needs ten fold leaving me rather unsatisfied with the weeks following. What to do, what to do?
I'm trying to find ways to satisfy this need for discussion. Generally I'm trying to relive the spontaneity of previous experiences, but being that it's already been done it kind of deems itself redundant. In saying that, they could just turn out to be a starting point for things to come, which is what I'm most working towards. I'm also trying to do things by impulse. Rather than organise an event with someone 5 days before hand I'm trying to satisfy the urge to hang out with said person by doing it then and there. Why wait a week to see a person when your wanting to see them could've expired by that point? It's a social question that I believe deserves an answer.
There's a certain level of anxiety involved in organisation to meet others. It feels like you're working too hard. But just calling up and organising on the moment feels so much more natural and great.
I need to get better at this whole "interaction" thing that people have got going.
Monday, February 15, 2010
Friday, February 12, 2010
Droned
I'm going to take a leaf from my friends... uh... blog...
This blog will be about dreams. In particular, my dreams. All of them. Or at least all that I can remember. This is going to be horrendously revealing. It's going to be just straight-up horrendous. This is going to be awesome.
My earliest dream that I can recall was me fighting in the world of Mortal Kombat. If you recall the old games, when you play story mode you go up the mountain against new players that are on different difficulty settings. I kept climbing that mountain and eventually found myself at the top, but to my surprise there was was no Shao Kahn or Shang Tsung. No, instead there was my brother. My fighting skills were no match for him, as all he had to do was literally give a light push. Being that I was on the cliff of an inredibly tall mountain, I fell to my death. I was very young when I had this dream.
Since then a multitude of dreams that are in no particular order...
I remember there was a girl by the name of Jasmine in high school that I had an interest in. Not on any deep level admittedly, I just had the suspicion that she'd be good fun to fool around with. I had a dream of just that once. What's funny is that I eventually got my chance, but I turned my back on it. I was quite likely afraid.
I, years later, had a dream of her again. I hadn't seen her for many years, but for some reason dreamt that I was on a walk though the city and was about to cross the bridge between QUT Gardens Point and South Bank. For some reason she was there and we chatted and that was it. I recall messaging her the next day over the randomness of the dream. We haven't really spoken since.
Towards the end of my relationship I had a dream that I had an affair with someone else. The person in the dream I didn't know. I would never have had an affair. We broke up a month later.
There was a girl I kind of liked when I first started going to Brisbane. I had a dream that her and I were going out once. She's now up there as one of my best friends, and the very thought of that dream literally freaks me out. It's so absurd and beyond reality, and by that I mean not just cause we're friends, but because it's incredibly out of character.
Pretty much all my dreams can be analysed and understood on a very basic level. This next one could possibly due to certain circumstances at the time and the discussion in the dream, but is probably my most absurd dream yet.
I was in a car with a bunch of my friends. Three of us were in the back and one of them was talking about a friend who wasn't there, making mention that said friends age was 35. I corrected him and said that her actual age was 22. Next thing, an island across the river we were driving by exploded. The explosion looked like something out of an early 90's first person shooter; a picture of an explosion that simply grew and got more and more pixelated as it got bigger and bigger. The explosion was obviously nuclear, as it managed to cross the river and hit us within seconds.
I dreamt that I kissed a girl in a pool, but then my friend was looking for us and we ran away and hid from him. He kept looking, and we kept hiding.
They're the only dreams I can honestly recall. They seem to have a lot to do with girls of interest. Sexual frustration perhaps? Let's hope.
This blog will be about dreams. In particular, my dreams. All of them. Or at least all that I can remember. This is going to be horrendously revealing. It's going to be just straight-up horrendous. This is going to be awesome.
My earliest dream that I can recall was me fighting in the world of Mortal Kombat. If you recall the old games, when you play story mode you go up the mountain against new players that are on different difficulty settings. I kept climbing that mountain and eventually found myself at the top, but to my surprise there was was no Shao Kahn or Shang Tsung. No, instead there was my brother. My fighting skills were no match for him, as all he had to do was literally give a light push. Being that I was on the cliff of an inredibly tall mountain, I fell to my death. I was very young when I had this dream.
Since then a multitude of dreams that are in no particular order...
I remember there was a girl by the name of Jasmine in high school that I had an interest in. Not on any deep level admittedly, I just had the suspicion that she'd be good fun to fool around with. I had a dream of just that once. What's funny is that I eventually got my chance, but I turned my back on it. I was quite likely afraid.
I, years later, had a dream of her again. I hadn't seen her for many years, but for some reason dreamt that I was on a walk though the city and was about to cross the bridge between QUT Gardens Point and South Bank. For some reason she was there and we chatted and that was it. I recall messaging her the next day over the randomness of the dream. We haven't really spoken since.
Towards the end of my relationship I had a dream that I had an affair with someone else. The person in the dream I didn't know. I would never have had an affair. We broke up a month later.
There was a girl I kind of liked when I first started going to Brisbane. I had a dream that her and I were going out once. She's now up there as one of my best friends, and the very thought of that dream literally freaks me out. It's so absurd and beyond reality, and by that I mean not just cause we're friends, but because it's incredibly out of character.
Pretty much all my dreams can be analysed and understood on a very basic level. This next one could possibly due to certain circumstances at the time and the discussion in the dream, but is probably my most absurd dream yet.
I was in a car with a bunch of my friends. Three of us were in the back and one of them was talking about a friend who wasn't there, making mention that said friends age was 35. I corrected him and said that her actual age was 22. Next thing, an island across the river we were driving by exploded. The explosion looked like something out of an early 90's first person shooter; a picture of an explosion that simply grew and got more and more pixelated as it got bigger and bigger. The explosion was obviously nuclear, as it managed to cross the river and hit us within seconds.
I dreamt that I kissed a girl in a pool, but then my friend was looking for us and we ran away and hid from him. He kept looking, and we kept hiding.
They're the only dreams I can honestly recall. They seem to have a lot to do with girls of interest. Sexual frustration perhaps? Let's hope.
Monday, January 11, 2010
New Workout Plan
Okay, so, since finding myself in a position where I have felt it necessary to make a move back to my home located in the middle of fucking no where (it looks like a set-up to something along the lines of 'Deliverance'... and I don't help that image), I have found myself in a position where I no longer have a gym at my convenience.
Now, I've never been known to be king ding-a-ling when it comes to looking huge and acting tough, rather I'm more likely falling into the category of just below average health, but of late I've tried to change that. I suppose you can say that I just want to look hotter for all the babes, and don't get me wrong, I do... but realistically I just think it might be better for me if I'm in better health physically not only as a very general thing, but also for my state of mind. Eating well and being fit helps on so many levels when it comes to your state of mind.
So what's the answer? Well, for all you no-hopers like me, let me tell you, there is none.
At least, not for the kind of workout I'd prefer to do, so I'm finding myself in a position of compromise. Having only one barbell at my disposal and only so much weights, it's kinda tough. I'm the type of guy that doesn't particularly like doin
g cardio and stuff like that, because I hate repetition. Doing the same thing for 15 minutes is horrible. And so I choose weights. I prefer to do sets of usually no more than 12 reps, and hopefully by the last set I'll struggle and won't get through it. Means I'm on a good weight range, and if I do get through it, I go up.
Well, that's sure as shit not happening with my limited amount of weights. For instance, I can't do bench press. There's just no point. I could, but it would mean extremely high reps, which would just bore the absolute shit out of me, so fuck that. So on the most part it seems I'm sticking to things more dedicated to arms and shoul
ders, with a little be for the ol' here and there.
And so for all you other go-getters out there looking for a cheap and effective way of pumping iron and looking well hot... well... I'd honestly suggest going to motleyhealth.com or something, because I sure as shit don't meet the prerequisites of at least one of those categories (the prior, right? Come on ladies, you know you want in on this shit.
So here we go... pop in Kanye West's New Workout Plan tape and go apeshit. By the way... I'm not listing my rep-range, simply because it generally changes every time for me cause I can't go up in weights. It fucking sucks. I'd suggest either 3 sets of 10 or 1 set at 12, 1 set at 10, and 1 at 8.
1. Bicep Curl
Everyone knows what a god damn bicep curl is. Do I need to explain this? Fine. Stand with your feet at shoulders length, with your grip slightly past that. Curl.
2. Chin-ups
Chin-ups are also somewhat self-explanatory... but in saying that people are morons. Choose a grip suitable for you (for me, slightly further than shoulders legnth). Pull. But don't just power through them like some kind of hero. No points for speed.
3. Overhead Press
Okay, finally something of interest. The picture kinda says it all, but get fucked. Another stupid grip (slightly past shoulder-length). In front or behind your head. Now, you start with the bar up high. Lower the bar down by your neck to the upper traps. It's best to do this with quite a bit of control, so I suggest count to four whilst lowering. Once down, hold and squeeze, and then push back up.
Note: If you do choose to do this exercise in front of your head, make sure when pushing up, you don't smash the bar into your jaw. Moron.
4: Bent Over Row
Same fucking grip. With overhand grip, keep your knees slightly bent and lean forward at the waste. Now follow with bringing the weight up to your midsection and your arms back.
If you choose to be different, and go the underhand grip... I can't help you. I know, I know... the reality of the matter is that if anyone is actually reading this blog, no one's actually going to take workout advice from me. Fuck you
I also do straight up rows, but I couldn't find an appropriate design.
5: Deadlifts
Okay... I'm going to be honest. I don't generally do deadlifts... I tend to do Clean & Press more often. In saying that, I didn't have a graphic for clean & press, they both have purposes spite their looking similar, and I'm just a lazy shit. I will start doing Deadlifts I think, but I have a feeling that it might deem itself somewhat pointless without heavy weights. Meh.
I'm not going to write how to perform this one out of laziness and my inability to understand it fully. Next.
6: Shrugs
Shoulder-width grip and shrug basically. Arms straight. Don't roll your shoulders. For mad variation skillz, trying putting the bar behind your back too. Go on. Do it.
You wouldn't do it.
7: Wrist Curls
I actually hate these kinds of work outs cause they seem so peculiar and unnatural and tedious. Still, I'm going to do it. It's good for the forearms.
Rest your arms against a bench (or table for you suckers at home), with your wrists anchored just over the edge. Don't move your arms during the work out, and relax your wrists and then curl the bellbar by bringing your hands up towards your forearms.
Go to failure. Pussy.
8. Sit-ups
Okay, I would suggest if you can do three standard sets of sit-ups, don't fuck around with higher reps. It's just to god damn painful. Not the workout... generally that easy. It's
tiresome though. Why? Cause it's fucking boring.
So chuck a weight on your chest and go nuts. If you can manage to do sit-ups on an incline, do it. I can't cause I don't have a stable place to do it. But it's far better. Feel the burn baby.
That's it. I got nothing else on me right now. Except Trap Them cancelled their show
at the Boys of Summer tour. That's kind of alright, being that I probably would've
hated all the little scene kids there... but Trap Them. :'(
That's okay. They said they'll try and come soon, so hopefully it'll be their own show.
Friday, January 8, 2010
Spaceship
Spaceship is actually the name of my computer. I have Crusher to thank for that. By tradition I name my blogs after the song I'm listening to at the time. There will be plenty of Kanye West love in this blog. I have Nathan to thank for that.
This blog could very well be a complicated and confusing affair, at least this particular post, and you might just get the feeling that I'm a little lost and uncertain of myself whilst reading. I refer to you as being whoever discovers this. I like to believe that I mean something to everyone, so I expect you all give me the proper appreciation and respect that my ego requires in order for me to not feel that this is an ultimately pointless process.
Let's face facts though, if a blog is created for the purpose of being used as a form of online journal, the very concept of what a journal/diary is completely corrupted as the privacy of writing your thoughts and emotions is thrown out the window. That is unless, of course, you don't advertise your dialogue via forms of social networking. I fall into the category of the prior, being that there will be nice little subtle link sitting on my Facebook page.
Speaking of which, my decision to remove my Facebook has come under serious question. Of course, it will be as of tonight back up and fully functioning, but for a good month or so it has been down due to a personal reason I won't get into, but somehow this move was rather controversial. To actually have people converse about it as it were a topic fitting for talk 'round the watercooler, which led to a phone call of concern, was quite curious. Sure, my reasoning was pretty serious and if told it would like require discussion and explanation, but no one's to know that other than the parties involved in the situation. Is Facebook the only means of social interraction with me these days? I would like to think that if these friends were wanting to talk to me they would be able to contact via other means. E-mail? Phone call? Text Message? Post?
In saying that, I recognise certain friends right now would only have Facebook to not only contact me but a good majority of friends of theirs, being that such people are currently overseas. I love you both.
I've found myself sidetracked. I was supposed to have mentioned earlier why this could be a very odd and unstructured post, and also why I require you to give me the appreciation and respect that my ego desires, or moreso an explanation behind my now more than obvious narcissism.
This is the first blog I have written with the intention of doing something other than shameless self-promotion. (Don't you just love that ever so subtle inclusion, and the mere fact that I've ruined it so quickly by pointing it out so blatantly. Fuck yeah, London. Fuck yeah) I haven't written something based more on the aforementioned personal "thoughts" and "emotions" that run through my head since I had a myspace. That was horrible mind you. More often than not it was poorly written rambling of completely emotional bullshit and my obvious inexperience with intimate interactions with friends and what not, and my mind drawing false conclusions on situations that were nothing more than hypotheticals.
The myspace and its included blogs were removed due to the ultimate of all that, my complete freak out and emotional heartbreak over a situation I still don't fully understand which entirely based on the fact that I never at any point confronted the issue at hand. It has since become clear that I overreacted, because the party involved has since made contact with me that was so incredibly friendly that it made me come to that realisation.
As for my self-proclaimed narcissism, not only do I fucking rule, but I'm also the most interesting person I know. That's about all I have to say about that.
I suppose realistically I can say that's complete bullshit, but hopefully you, the readers (I included a bold 's' in there because I believe that there should be thousands of people reading this, as it is without doubt the most interesting thing on the internet. Without doubt), will know me well enough to acknowledge that.
There was a point to my mentioning of my narcissism, let me go back and read over to see if I can remember what it was...
Okay... I obviously want people to read this. Thus the reason, again, I've posted it on my Facebook. My other blog I also want people to read, but for entirely different reads, whereas this is more of a "I want people to understand why I act the way I do, but I also don't want anyone saying anything to me about... at least not face to face. It makes me blush. Though secretly I walk away with a smile on my face". That's not a joke. I kind of wish it were. Fuck.
The point of this all?
The Grumpy Snail is there to showcase whatever work I do. Currently, it's not a hell of a lot, and trust me that fucking hurts me like nothing else.
This is for a means of getting something out there. More especially in times like these where I find myself isolated more often than not. Admittedly, I feel fine in my fortress of solitude. The only thing that saddens me about my being alone is I've felt paralysed by a lack of ability to work on anything of recent. I have some ideas for some design projects, but until today I haven't had any internet to get some source material (I could do some free-hand work, but currently my ideas are more in needing of photography and textures and typography/iconography), and even though that is now fixed, it doesn't help that the computer I bought specifically for doing design work has decided to die on me (won't turn on... and it has some of prototype work that I kind of need to do the projects I want to work on, and I won't be able to recreate that, nor do I want to try).
Now that I have access to the world wide web (aka: 'www'... the only acronym that takes literally twice the effort to say than the actual words themselves), I hopefully will be able to make myself slightly more useful. I intend on getting myself a sequencer program so I can write fat beats (I mentioned in the beginning that there will be Kanye West worship in this blog. That begins now. I love 'Late Registration'. I kind of love the others, but I'll be damned if 'Late Registration' isn't the kick ass). I have some songs only written in my head, and hopefully via research and my incredibly amature recording skillz I'll be able to put them together via such a program... and maybz Larry will come round and help out some time.
This is getting dangerously close to being something more valid for a Grumpy Snail post... but I'll justify it's Something Other-ness by saying that it's purpose of being written is to show that I haven't been the complete write-off that some might have thought I've been.
In saying that though... I have still been a write-off.
But seriously. I'm sorry to all I have hurt, disappointed or abandoned. Truly.
So what am I doing to try and better myself? I don't know if I'm necessarily bettering myself by any means tell you the truth. My faults are my own, I've accepted them, and I choose to utilise them rather than ignore them. I don't know if that makes any sense.
I fear change, and I fear things that commitments. That fear has robbed me of many things in the last few months. Somehow I feel inable to change that, and rather should accept my mistakes and learn from them. So this year is the year of things to happen it seems. For the very first time ever I've committed myself to an event that involves more effort than simply getting out of the house and going to a local/semi-local household or venue for what could eventuate to be an easy escape home. Generally I tell people I plan on doing things and fail go through with such matters as my impulses generally run no further than simple ideas. The effort involved in organisation I find not even so much tiring, as it's not lazyness that disables my activities, but rather just some kind of fear of the slightest bit of failure.
I currently have no plan for my stay in Melbourne. I know people there, but I've yet to tell them I'm coming. I don't know where I'll be staying. I'm currently living off fortnightly Centrelink payments of about $450, which generally a portion will be taken out and put towards debts/bills, and I have no savings, and is only just over two months till I make my trip to Melbourne, in which the only plan I have so far is to spend money on a ticket and possible merchandise for a Converge show. I acknowledged all these issues yesterday as I sat on the computer at Sunchine Coast University Library, and I hesitated to press the 'proceed' button on the Virgin Blue website (another fear was that proceeding would've involved my living off about $100 for the fortnight, which a somewhat significant amount would be spent later that evening on a movie and a coffee, which I in no way regret. The Fantastic Mr. Fox was probably the best cinematic experience I had since the last Wes Anderson film).
I did it anyway. My thought was nothing more than "fuck it". I had lived off pretty much nothing over the last month due to a horrendously large phone bill that I conjured whilst breaking up with my girlfriend on top of other payments for other things... I have no real expenses outside of that, which now will be significantly smaller, so why not just put a large sum of my already rather small fortnightly payments towards a trip I really can't afford? Do I not deserve an experience? Probably not. I've been pretty fucking terrible. But I don't care. I look at the social atrocities I've committed to be nothing but learning steps to being a better version of me. I'm curious whether I'll ever be satisfied with myself, but hopefully I can eventually convince you that I'm worth your while as a friend.
Quite sidenote: My favourite Nick Cave song is "Lovely Creature". I'm listening to it now.
It may not seem like much, but that (plus another event I won't bother getting into, purely for the sake of that this post is too fucking long as is) is something for me. Plus I'm enrolled to uni for a Bachelor of Arts in Design and Communication, which I'm keenly awaiting.
I suppose it's all about making positive steps, and learning from your mistakes. Don't get me wrong, I've yet to really learn anything. I've just acknowledged that my behavior over these previous months has been nothing but fucking stupid. I'm not sure how to fix the problems I've created, nor do I know if I even can, but that's okay. I accept full responsibility for my actions.
But seriously... get fucked.
The incredible, if not slightly insatiable, Louis Gaudet.
P.S: I didn't achieve much in this post. It reminds me of when you're reading or watching something, and it starts off incredibly imperfect, though offers possibility of great things to come. Look, all I'm saying is, don't get your hopes up.
I fucking love myself.
This blog could very well be a complicated and confusing affair, at least this particular post, and you might just get the feeling that I'm a little lost and uncertain of myself whilst reading. I refer to you as being whoever discovers this. I like to believe that I mean something to everyone, so I expect you all give me the proper appreciation and respect that my ego requires in order for me to not feel that this is an ultimately pointless process.
Let's face facts though, if a blog is created for the purpose of being used as a form of online journal, the very concept of what a journal/diary is completely corrupted as the privacy of writing your thoughts and emotions is thrown out the window. That is unless, of course, you don't advertise your dialogue via forms of social networking. I fall into the category of the prior, being that there will be nice little subtle link sitting on my Facebook page.
Speaking of which, my decision to remove my Facebook has come under serious question. Of course, it will be as of tonight back up and fully functioning, but for a good month or so it has been down due to a personal reason I won't get into, but somehow this move was rather controversial. To actually have people converse about it as it were a topic fitting for talk 'round the watercooler, which led to a phone call of concern, was quite curious. Sure, my reasoning was pretty serious and if told it would like require discussion and explanation, but no one's to know that other than the parties involved in the situation. Is Facebook the only means of social interraction with me these days? I would like to think that if these friends were wanting to talk to me they would be able to contact via other means. E-mail? Phone call? Text Message? Post?
In saying that, I recognise certain friends right now would only have Facebook to not only contact me but a good majority of friends of theirs, being that such people are currently overseas. I love you both.
I've found myself sidetracked. I was supposed to have mentioned earlier why this could be a very odd and unstructured post, and also why I require you to give me the appreciation and respect that my ego desires, or moreso an explanation behind my now more than obvious narcissism.
This is the first blog I have written with the intention of doing something other than shameless self-promotion. (Don't you just love that ever so subtle inclusion, and the mere fact that I've ruined it so quickly by pointing it out so blatantly. Fuck yeah, London. Fuck yeah) I haven't written something based more on the aforementioned personal "thoughts" and "emotions" that run through my head since I had a myspace. That was horrible mind you. More often than not it was poorly written rambling of completely emotional bullshit and my obvious inexperience with intimate interactions with friends and what not, and my mind drawing false conclusions on situations that were nothing more than hypotheticals.
The myspace and its included blogs were removed due to the ultimate of all that, my complete freak out and emotional heartbreak over a situation I still don't fully understand which entirely based on the fact that I never at any point confronted the issue at hand. It has since become clear that I overreacted, because the party involved has since made contact with me that was so incredibly friendly that it made me come to that realisation.
As for my self-proclaimed narcissism, not only do I fucking rule, but I'm also the most interesting person I know. That's about all I have to say about that.
I suppose realistically I can say that's complete bullshit, but hopefully you, the readers (I included a bold 's' in there because I believe that there should be thousands of people reading this, as it is without doubt the most interesting thing on the internet. Without doubt), will know me well enough to acknowledge that.
There was a point to my mentioning of my narcissism, let me go back and read over to see if I can remember what it was...
Okay... I obviously want people to read this. Thus the reason, again, I've posted it on my Facebook. My other blog I also want people to read, but for entirely different reads, whereas this is more of a "I want people to understand why I act the way I do, but I also don't want anyone saying anything to me about... at least not face to face. It makes me blush. Though secretly I walk away with a smile on my face". That's not a joke. I kind of wish it were. Fuck.
The point of this all?
The Grumpy Snail is there to showcase whatever work I do. Currently, it's not a hell of a lot, and trust me that fucking hurts me like nothing else.
This is for a means of getting something out there. More especially in times like these where I find myself isolated more often than not. Admittedly, I feel fine in my fortress of solitude. The only thing that saddens me about my being alone is I've felt paralysed by a lack of ability to work on anything of recent. I have some ideas for some design projects, but until today I haven't had any internet to get some source material (I could do some free-hand work, but currently my ideas are more in needing of photography and textures and typography/iconography), and even though that is now fixed, it doesn't help that the computer I bought specifically for doing design work has decided to die on me (won't turn on... and it has some of prototype work that I kind of need to do the projects I want to work on, and I won't be able to recreate that, nor do I want to try).
Now that I have access to the world wide web (aka: 'www'... the only acronym that takes literally twice the effort to say than the actual words themselves), I hopefully will be able to make myself slightly more useful. I intend on getting myself a sequencer program so I can write fat beats (I mentioned in the beginning that there will be Kanye West worship in this blog. That begins now. I love 'Late Registration'. I kind of love the others, but I'll be damned if 'Late Registration' isn't the kick ass). I have some songs only written in my head, and hopefully via research and my incredibly amature recording skillz I'll be able to put them together via such a program... and maybz Larry will come round and help out some time.
This is getting dangerously close to being something more valid for a Grumpy Snail post... but I'll justify it's Something Other-ness by saying that it's purpose of being written is to show that I haven't been the complete write-off that some might have thought I've been.
In saying that though... I have still been a write-off.
"I had a cat once. I dropped a sofa on it, it was a write off, so I stood on its head" - Dean LearnerOkay, so for everyone involved, I apologise for my behaviour. I understand that I have in so many ways been completely self-involved of recent, and for those of you who have made your disappointment through your actions, I in no way hold any resentment against you for having done so. I won't get much more into it than that... but yeah, still, in the words of the Great Liengme, "Get fucked".
"Tell 'em... to get fucked" - Nico Liengme
But seriously. I'm sorry to all I have hurt, disappointed or abandoned. Truly.
So what am I doing to try and better myself? I don't know if I'm necessarily bettering myself by any means tell you the truth. My faults are my own, I've accepted them, and I choose to utilise them rather than ignore them. I don't know if that makes any sense.
I fear change, and I fear things that commitments. That fear has robbed me of many things in the last few months. Somehow I feel inable to change that, and rather should accept my mistakes and learn from them. So this year is the year of things to happen it seems. For the very first time ever I've committed myself to an event that involves more effort than simply getting out of the house and going to a local/semi-local household or venue for what could eventuate to be an easy escape home. Generally I tell people I plan on doing things and fail go through with such matters as my impulses generally run no further than simple ideas. The effort involved in organisation I find not even so much tiring, as it's not lazyness that disables my activities, but rather just some kind of fear of the slightest bit of failure.
I currently have no plan for my stay in Melbourne. I know people there, but I've yet to tell them I'm coming. I don't know where I'll be staying. I'm currently living off fortnightly Centrelink payments of about $450, which generally a portion will be taken out and put towards debts/bills, and I have no savings, and is only just over two months till I make my trip to Melbourne, in which the only plan I have so far is to spend money on a ticket and possible merchandise for a Converge show. I acknowledged all these issues yesterday as I sat on the computer at Sunchine Coast University Library, and I hesitated to press the 'proceed' button on the Virgin Blue website (another fear was that proceeding would've involved my living off about $100 for the fortnight, which a somewhat significant amount would be spent later that evening on a movie and a coffee, which I in no way regret. The Fantastic Mr. Fox was probably the best cinematic experience I had since the last Wes Anderson film).
I did it anyway. My thought was nothing more than "fuck it". I had lived off pretty much nothing over the last month due to a horrendously large phone bill that I conjured whilst breaking up with my girlfriend on top of other payments for other things... I have no real expenses outside of that, which now will be significantly smaller, so why not just put a large sum of my already rather small fortnightly payments towards a trip I really can't afford? Do I not deserve an experience? Probably not. I've been pretty fucking terrible. But I don't care. I look at the social atrocities I've committed to be nothing but learning steps to being a better version of me. I'm curious whether I'll ever be satisfied with myself, but hopefully I can eventually convince you that I'm worth your while as a friend.
Quite sidenote: My favourite Nick Cave song is "Lovely Creature". I'm listening to it now.
It may not seem like much, but that (plus another event I won't bother getting into, purely for the sake of that this post is too fucking long as is) is something for me. Plus I'm enrolled to uni for a Bachelor of Arts in Design and Communication, which I'm keenly awaiting.
I suppose it's all about making positive steps, and learning from your mistakes. Don't get me wrong, I've yet to really learn anything. I've just acknowledged that my behavior over these previous months has been nothing but fucking stupid. I'm not sure how to fix the problems I've created, nor do I know if I even can, but that's okay. I accept full responsibility for my actions.
But seriously... get fucked.
The incredible, if not slightly insatiable, Louis Gaudet.
P.S: I didn't achieve much in this post. It reminds me of when you're reading or watching something, and it starts off incredibly imperfect, though offers possibility of great things to come. Look, all I'm saying is, don't get your hopes up.
I fucking love myself.
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