Perambulating Playlists

If I may, I'd like to move away from the current topic I've been posting 'tl;dr' blawgs about. Just for a moment, I'd like to include an interest of mine rather than my own issues, here in this site of mine.

Now, this is something I've been trying to get off the ground for a long, long while now, but only now had I thought of a brilliant way to bring it to fruition in the most productive and beneficial way. What I want to try out here is this; walking playlists. Allow me to explain.

Recently, I've been trying to get fit. During my drinking days, I acquired a bit of a cider belly (because I'm not a man that can drink beer), so I've been walking in an attempt to get rid of it. Now, I can see where you may be a little confused at this moment. You ask 'What has this got to do with your blawg?' and here is where I answer that question, please, calm your anticipation.

A fair amount of friends of mine have expressed an interest in my music collection, which I can't say is not a vast library of awesome, but when it come to suggesting music to people, I'm really no good at it. I've always wanted a way to show people all the kinds of crazy music I have obtained over time, not because I think my music taste is better than anyone else's, but more for the fact that I tend to find some interesting albums in the most random of ways, and my collection is so eclectic, really almost anyone could peruse through my library and find at least one album they dig.

So with those two things in mind, I devised a genius plan;
Problems I had:
- Lack of fitness and lack of a flat belly
- Lack of ability to share a cool song with someone who may dig it.

Solution:
I go for an hour (at least) walk every second day or so. During that time, I listen to my iPod on shuffle (as I would have done anyway). No song is to be skipped. At the completion of my walk, I write down all the songs that played during that walk, find an external link in which people can hear that song and submit it into a blawg post.

Genius, no? I get to work out, and you get a new playlist of songs that you could possibly dig. It doesn't sound like a bad idea to me.

I fully prepared for all this so I decided to take all the songs from the time I spent walking yesterday, and put them into a playlist. It goes a little something a-like this;

Rudresh Mahanthappa and Bunky Green - The Journey*

9mm Parabellum Bullet - (Teenage)Disaster*

Jamie Woon - Waterfront Listen

Codes in the Clouds - You Are Not What You Think You Are (Baked Clouds Remix)*

Ghostlimb - Laughter Listen

Dungeon Elite - GG Listen

Stricken City - Corridors Listen

Impending Doom - He’s Coming Back Listen

Matthew Dear - Innh Dahh*

Despised Icon - Entre Le Bien Et Le Mal Listen

Jesu - Dethroned Listen

Moon Safari - New York City Summergirl Listen

Holy Sons - Look Of Pain! Listen

TLOZ: Link’s Awakening - The Turtle Awakens! Listen

The White Shadow Of Norway - Organized Revolution (ft. LT.Mana, LA Dog & Mister Misfit) Listen

Kode 9 & The Spaceape - Otherman Listen

Sun City Girls - Cruel And Thin Listen

Nurse With Wound & Larsen - Driftin’ By Listen

JFA - You Can’t Surf*

The Dwarves - Working Class Hole Listen

*All the songs with this at the end, I could not find online. Perhaps I could post a song from the same album or something so you can get an idea of what the album is like. It's all fine tuning at the moment really.

As you can see, it's a pretty eclectic mix, it's not the most eclectic, it could definitely be more so, but for an average person who's not too into searching for different kinds of music, it's fairly interesting I would think.

Anyway, hopefully this sparks an interest, and even if it doesn't, I'm gonna do it anyway.

Yay fitness.

'til next time

Matt

(P)Outing

As of recent, I’ve grown far too familiar to the comfort of my mattress. This corner of my room grows ever darker as I sit here, often awake until the small hours of the morning, allowing me to ponder in silence, to think without distraction, and yet, this has become a burden to me.

Over-thinking is a crime I am guilty of many times over. It’s in my nature not to talk aloud but in my head. Surely, you would think, this is certainly something not to complain about, and you would be correct. I’m not upset about who I am, I enjoy being able to sit and think for hours on end without becoming bored, but time after time it reaches a point in which the subject matter is something sensitive to me (eg; a previous relationship), or something stressful and overbearing (eg; explaining to my parents my extreme want for HRT), and it digs itself into my mind. No other thoughts are allowed through, as this thought bears extreme importance apparently, according to my emotional hormonal teenage brain.

Time spent in my bed is no longer just the time when I should be sleeping, but it has become a sanctuary of deep thought and consideration. These annoyingly loud and disruptive thoughts are messing with me, and effectively ruining my bed sheet laden safe haven. These bed springs comfort me, and always have, but I have come to fear the consequences of being  somewhat… I suppose ‘too comfy’ is one way to put it.

The reason I brought this up is because, as I mentioned before, I wish to just come out to my parents about myself. I want to let them know who I am and what I want to be as a person. Sadly, it’s not as easy as sitting both of them down and blurting out everything I want them to know, or at least I don’t think it will be. The reason I’m lead to believe this is that Mum (the one whom I admittedly trust more when talking about personal thing) has and odd opinion when it come to my being bi-sexual. Essentially she believes that bi-sexuality doesn’t exist, you either love one or the other or you’re just being greedy. I’m not sure whether to laugh at her or take offence.

Deep down, it does hurt that she doesn’t believe what I believe I am exists, because in a way, she’s just saying that I’m making things up so I can get what I want, and no matter what kind of persuading I can try, she comes out on top because she’s lived more life and is more learned. She’s never really believed that I know anything important about myself because I’m too young to know anything yet, which is exactly why I hesitated so long to tell her in the first place, but even five years after, I still wasn’t ‘old enough’ to really know anything.

This is why I don’t want to inform her of my bi-genderism, because if I hear her say anything to the likes of ‘You’re not old enough to know those kinds of things’, I will have to restrain myself from slapping her, and even if I were to, I’m sure to her it would seem like a silly child having a tantrum because it doesn’t get it’s way.

As for telling Dad, that territory is a vast landscape of unknown. For all I know it could be a perfectly nice open meadow, completely calm, or it could be a total minefield where taking one step could be the last, a complete mess. I still rely on my dad for a lot of things, mainly money due to my extreme bout of unemployment, and I’m completely aware that when it comes to trying to understand me, he is at a loss. We aren’t two minds that see eye to eye very often.

If he were to know that I were bi-gender, let alone just bi-sexual, I seriously have no idea what would happen, but if I were to word to him that I want to be both genders physically, I feel that he would focus on the word ‘want’ and twist it to make it seem like it’s another one of those things I simply just want. I may be generalising his actions a bit, but that is my fear as of recent. This what has been racking my brain.

In summary, I feel that Mum won’t accept the existence of my mental state and Dad won’t be able to understand it at all, and that scares me a lot. I suppose I’ll never know if that’s true or not until I bring it up.

If you have any questions about anything, please don't hesitate to ask, I’m happy to answer anything, within reason of course.

‘til next time.

Matt

Trans-facts.

Since I was young, I’ve always had an odd perspective on gender. I never felt that it was fair that I didn’t get to choose whether I was a boy or a girl. I used to have seemingly wild wishes of being able to switch back and forth between being a girl and a guy. At around the time I turned ten years old, I accepted my fate as a male and went on living.

At around age fourteen or fifteen (forgive my uncertainty), I slowly began experimenting with short bouts of cross dressing (and mind you, this is something I’ve never told anyone, please refrain from informing my parents this), sometimes finding my sister’s clothes on the floor of the bathroom, I would try them on. Me being the scrawny thing I was they never fit properly at all, and not once did I ever consider this strange until I did it with other people around, although I did manage to sneak one public cross dress in when Sharna had one of her parties in which I got to wear Meg’s cute little pink skirt.

It was at about fifteen I came out as bi-sexual (in which it took me another five years to admit that to one of my parents). I expected waves of insults and a mass drop in friend count, which would have been a bad thing with the small amount I had, but things went much better than expected. I wasn’t ridiculed (except from the people I truly expected it from which was no surprise and it didn’t bother me in the least), I didn’t lose any friends over it, I was highly relieved.

From that point, I thought I had myself figured out, but things changed over time, old habits began to emerge and the cycle began once again. I again had thoughts of my gender, I would ask myself why I was male all the time, of course at this point I was in a hetero relationship and was incredibly insecure. The same thoughts have been emerging in my mind recently, but now I’m smarter, mostly secure, no longer in a physical relationship and much more level headed.

The idea of being bi-gendered was something that had never even occurred to me before, let alone me knowing it ever even existed. The idea of being both genders was a fantasy I’ve had ever since I was able to question my existence as a child. What this post comes down to is that I’ve always wished I could be both genders but I forgot somewhere along the way.

But wait. the rabbit hole goes deeper than this.

For almost a year now, the idea of HRT (Hormone Replacement Therapy) has been something that has become increasingly tempting to me, but I wasn’t exactly sure why. I’d never had much of an urge to become a girl because I loved men and felt like a woman in a man’s form. After some serious revision in my mind, I came to this conclusion; I wish to physically become both genders.

Now it’s not as simple as popping a few oestrogen pills, growing tits and going on my merry way. Yes, I do wish to remain with the junk I’ve got, but having a more feminine form is something I urge quite severely. I’d become what the internet calls a ‘trap’ essentially. People do HRT to essentially become the opposite sex, the gender they wished to be inside, but I don’t wish to be any gender specifically, I wish to be both.

Being bi-gendered seems to be the small grey area of sexuality and gender identity. I’m not sure how to approach my parents about this, nor my friends or any other family. I suppose that’s why I’m typing all this up. I have family and friends that read this, and I know my parents don’t. Perhaps this isn’t the smartest of things, but venting all this does help me deal with all the stress involved with over-thinking about it.

When I have more progress on my thoughts on this, I will most likely post more, depending on the reaction this gets I suppose.

'til next time.

Matt

In Addition.

Continuing on from my last post, I did forget to mention one thing.

Not so recently, my life with through some very drastic and emotional changes. It's taken me a long time to get over, despite it being my own fault, but using my physical appearance to change who I was during the time I thought I was happy to the person I am now really helped.

Like I said, I don't look how I used to, and I never wish to look like that again, because it will remind me of those times, times gone, way in the past. If I'm no longer the me I was, then I'm happy.

If it was the old me she no longer loves, I have no need to remain as that person, physically. I'll always be Matt, or April, with the same mind set and morals, just with a new guise (you might be able to tell I am enjoying that word). Same guts, new skin.

A Sudden Theory On Physical Appearance And Social Definition

Why do I look the way I do? For what reason do I feel that I need to look this way? What compels me to give off this appearance?

These are questions I've thought not too long about, but I may have an answer of sorts.

Not so long ago, I used to look so different. I vaguely looked like the way I was, I was, in a way, true to form so to speak. Slowly, through soul searching and self-psychological analysis, my outward guise began to reflect what was really inside. This, in a way was a safeguard for myself. I could always change and still remain myself, giving me that self satisfaction that I wasn't so easy to figure out just by looking at me.

How it actually reflected me was such; I've never been sure of myself, never had a strong assurance that I am a certain way. My mind was an ever changing battle of subtle attempts to fit in and still remaining that odd one out. Nowadays, I have enough self assurance to know, I'm not entirely the odd one out all the time, but from where I'm from, from what I've seen and grown up with, I've rejected their outlook on appearance and taken definition to a further level for myself.

Ever since I was small, small being the start of high school, maybe even a little while further back from then, I believed I was schizophrenic because from situation to situation, my personality would dramatically change to fit where I was, other people determined how I acted, and I still do that to this day, but more so as a defence mechanism. Eventually I realised that I was trying to hard to fit in with everyone, be everyones friend (which was in my personality). Eventually I gave up on all that.

I took a turn in the opposite direction, turn myself into someone who seemed off, socially secure with not being everyone else. At first I thought this seemed selfish, a way to make friends come to me, which in hindsight was never selfish at all, I was tired of making the wrong friends because I had no defining guise. In a world like today, appearance defines first judgement, which sticks with a lot of people. That's why I try to bring myself from the inside out. 'This is how I want to feel today' it could be, or 'This is what I want you to pick up on' at times.

Which brings me to definition.

I can't deny what I am at the moment, nor at any moment should I ever deny myself. For now, I am a man, a musician, an artist of sorts. I am bisexual (although not a defining part of myself, it helps me feel better about it sometimes to reflect that, not that I feel bad about it, sheltered life has just stopped from having that comfort at home). I'm an oddball stoner with a taste for weird and wacky. A feel for the contemporary. I feel that can reflect these things with the way I decorate my limbs and my self from day to day.

Being a man, I feel that for now it's something I can't get rid of, hence why I keep my moustache, the most visible of body hair excluding the scalp. Inside I don't feel so much a man as I do just a being. I shave my legs, my arms, my armpits I reject body hair in a way, keeping that underneath my clothes, it allows that to become a more personal level of being able to define me. I don;t wish everyone to know me straight away, I just want them to know I could be interesting to them. If I don't interest you in the slightest, I'm not bothered, I can't control your opinion with such simple methods as guises.

As a music artist, I wish to become undefinable throughout my career, not in just musical aspects, but in a way of... well, for lack of better words, being not being able to figure me out so easily, not being able to say 'Oh well he does this and this and that's why he does this', if you understand what I mean.

In summary, I dress the way I do because I want you to know me as someone else, not the same guys you already know. I don't care if you don't want to know me, but if I interest you, then you interest me because I caught your eye. I dress the way I feel and the way I am, I may not pull it off all the time, but at least I'm trying, and I'm not trying to not look like everybody else because it's everybody else, I do it to be that fleeting moment of thought in the back of your mind.

I can only hope that made some amount of sense.

An Idea.

After looking back at my past blawg posts, I can no longer deny the fact that most of the time I'm a depressing person when I'm on the internet. So I have an idea.

I'm thinking of perhaps starting a second blawg (in which I shall call it a 'blog', for traditions sake of course), in which I relay to you the odd things I seem to find here in the vast universe we call the internet.

Here will remain to be the same blawg it always was, a repository of my thoughts and attempts to purvey the inner workings of my seemingly dark mind.

Now to become un-lethargic so I can create it.

Image.

I am too much concerned with my image.

I wasn't able to discover this on my own, but it's been at the back of my mind for a long time, but due to some recent events it seems to have been pushed forward. After some serious consideration, I've deduced (and yes, you may think that perhaps deducing things about myself is vaguely redundant) that I am no less vain than anyone else.

I worry about looking normal. I worry about how people perceive me through my words, both written and spoken. I worry about my actions. I'm afraid people aren;t going to see me for what I want them to see of me. The thing is that I'm not really portraying a fake personality or anything (at least not in situations I'm comfortable in being in), I'm just scared of being disliked.

Even the blawg, it's all just a piece of this facade I've created for myself. I was never a great writer, or a great speaker, but I wanted people to know the inner workings of my mind. I started this whole thing too young. I was unable to be serious with it, which was my main objective, so I grew bored.

I'm not sure where I should take this blawg now. Whether I should continue it as is for other peoples sake, or just leave it be, and begin slowly removing all my internet distractions. One day, the only thing I'll ever need the internet for is music.

Being sick puts me in a horrid mindset. Lying in bed all day, alone. I clearly have issues with loneliness. Such a deadly combination, hating being alone and hating yourself. An endless circle of self loathing and hoping someone else doesn't do the same.

I've lost myself here, I'll end it while I still have some sort of cohesive sentence structure.
'til next time,
Matt.

The Time Between Then And Now

Since I last wrote to you, endless voi- I mean Internet, some good things have happened and not many bad things at all. Might I divulge.

I mean to write  post on this topic a while back, but after many drafts, I could tell I either wasn't in a writing mood, or I'd lost touch with the flow from my mind to my fingers, but now I'm here, let's give another try.

I dedicate this paragraph to Aaran Colbourne. He styled my hair such beauty and diligence, I feel that he deserves this. He worked long and hard on my head, overcoming obstacles and powering through issues, I commend him for what he has done to and for me. Thank you Arran Colbourne, the world needs more people, nay heroes, like you.

New topic.

I bought I MIDI keyboard. Well, really Taylor Dalton bought it and I payed him back, but it is in my possession. Now this may not sound like something to be thrilled about, but for me, this is the best thing that could have happened. My musical urge just burst open in an explosion of virtual instruments, my creative juices turned from a trickling flow into this incredible turbulent flux exciting me to no end.

After a few days of this, I suddenly realised how happy I was. I was just so incredibly happy, nothing was bringing me down, the odd thing I'd see on FaceBook of Katie writing something completely unrelated to me would get me down for about two minutes, then I'd be back to playing guitar or emulating a piano or what have you. I just felt good.

So I decided to apply for a Music course. (How was that for a decent segue?!)

After the arduous process of going through the VTAC website, downloading forms, filling them out, mailing them, all I can do now is wait and prepare my audition. I hate to admit it, but I'm actually quite nervous. I applied as a guitarist, which I don't believe is my best instrument at all, i'm by far a better bassist, but it's the instrument I'm most involved with at the moment so I figured it could only help me in my band endeavours.

After a few night of not playing music, and searching the internet for something interesting, I discovered a small community, and with that community was some small netlabels, PistonSource Records and Running Jump Records, which both highly intrigued me, mainly PistonSource due to it's use of Pixel's PxTone software because I myself use Pixel's Software to make music.

I did some research into netlabels, finding out legal mumbo jumbo, how to start one up, the reasons to own or join one, all that jazz, and eventually, and I though to myself "I've been looking for a way to represent local bands without looking like a stupid sweater who just wants to be in with band members by starting a promotions FaceBook page. This is perfect."

So I did.

I'm slowly working on where I want to go with the whole thing, but so far I'm going to be promoting and hosting my own music, I have a few people in mind who wouldn't be apposed to me hosting their music either. The whole thing's non-profit anyhow so really, no one has anything to lose by joining me.

Also recently, the cousin whom I refer to as Aidan, decided to begin a blawg of his own, traditionally referring to it as his blog, the 'correct' spelling one might say. Here he commands the english language like no other, with the though patterns to match. I envy his ability to write in such a fluent manner, to be able to convey such thoughts in clear and precise words. I will remain endlessly jealous of his mind. I recommend keeping an eye on his (dare I type it this way) blog. He WILL make you think.

Other than that, the internet at home has been shitty, so I havent been able to Skype call with Emmi, which bums me, but really, that's the only bad thing to have happened since I last deposited my thoughts.

Thank you for reading, I hope you stay and read again some time.
'til next time.
Matt.

Your Say.

From today, I no longer have faith in the minds of the masses.

I used to read the Herald Sun, ever since I was about twelve I'd say, not exactly daily, but when I got chance I'd scan through for anything interesting. Ever since I began, my favourite section was the Your Say section (That being it's current name, I'm not sure if it had another name previously, I think it may have). As of recent I've had less chances to glance through the Sun but I'd always look through the Your Say section first.

For those unfamiliar, the Your Say section is basically the part of the paper where they publish things people write, email or text in to the Sun. I think it was a silly idea to allow people to text in their opinion on matters, or at least I believe so.

I used to highly enjoy reading what people had to say on serious matters, giving me new perspectives on stories I'd read and what not, but slowly, the content began to deteriorate, along with the content of the newspaper itself. They began to focus on more trivial and whitespace filler news. What used to be a footnote in the corner of an odd page now became very close to front page news. Then the people who wrote in became dumber.

At this point, all the Your Say section has become is a public internet forum that gets printed. All it is is people bickering at each other, trying to set off one another, making idiotic remarks just looking for reactions. If I read another 'Got a problem with our state, then get out' submission, I'm going to hunt down and kill whoever wrote it in. Matter just aren't that fucking simple. You really think that's helping us look like a decent country by saying 'Don't like what we do? Then fuck off.'? Holy fucking Sol, some people are stupid.

In retrospect, it was the texting that ruined that section, that and the idiotic society we live in, where truly important matters don't seem to matter at all. I look forward to death sometimes.

'til next time,
Matt.

Names For These Things Are Slowly Becoming Harder.

Last weekend I travelled up to Rye to pay my grandma a visit. Usually when this happens, the time spent there is uneventful and boring, which she full acknowledges, but we're guilted into heading up there because 'it may be the last time we see her' which is a legitimate reason I suppose, but really, the amount of times I hear the same reason... Anyway...

But this time, the time spent there was a bit different. Much more interesting that usual. So much so that I may have come out of there with a new perspective of my grandmother.

Living in Rye, my grandma live extremely close to the beach. Beaches are things I've rarely been interested in. I don't enjoy sand, nor do I enjoy salt water very much. Boats, jet skis or surfing have never really interested me either. If anything, the thing I find most interesting about beaches are piers. I realised this when I decided to take a walk before the last bit of sunshine for the day slipped away. Walking around Rye helped get a better view of what a beachside suburb is like. I'm used to seeing these things from behind the car window.

Of course, I wasn't to thrilled with what I saw of Rye. Not much for music there, but coming out of there with a view was something at least. I probably wouldn't live there myself, but I can understand why people would want to live there. It's quaint. Not bustling or overly busy. Relaxed. The kind of place someone could imagine retiring to.

After my return to my grandma's abode, there was a lot of sitting wondering what to do, unavoidable when you're sitting in a house that isn't yours with no internet access sadly. In her lounge room (of sorts) she has this very cool old record player which I'd never played with before. I decided to peruse through all her records, something I'd done many times before, but this time, one certain record caught my eye, one I'd never seen before.

So I took a picture of it.

Incase you can't read it, it's called 'Phases of the Moon; Traditional Chinese Music'.

I had no idea my grandma was into such music. I asked if she minded me playing it so I could have a listen. She didn't mind. I'd listened to many eastern traditional musics, but Chinese was yet to protrude my ear canals.

I can't say that I was disappointed. This compilation of tunes from various provinces and times of China really got me hooked on the composition of the pieces, which varied in their own ways, but remained fairly similar within a few aspects. This record is actually available for download in various places around the internet if you know where to look.

I also may have caught a case of the vinyl bug. The feeling of being able to touch the music in a way was just... intriguing. Sadly, it's horribly hipster of me to like anything old. Damn you judging public, you've ruined yet another interest of mine.

Lawljokes, you think I actually care what you think? Gotcha my silly headed reader. I'd call you friend but I might not actually know you and I can't guarantee I'd like you.

Other than that, things are okay. I've emotionally reconstructed myself and I'm ready to kick life's ass. Time to be a functioning human being. Oh also, I don't think I told you, but I lost my job at the printing factory, but not to worry, I've also gotten over that. Except for Whitey, I miss Whitey. Rock on my friend, rock on.

'til next time.
Matt.

Scene Blawg Take Two.

It has recently come to my attention that I was wrong. I posted some misleading things about Brooklyn which has cause a... well I don't know what to call it honestly, but I'm going to take this moment to reiterate my previous blawg post.

I shall begin by saying that my opinion on their music is still the same, I still find it dull and boring, It's just not to my taste, and I fail to realise why anyone enjoys it (not referring to Brooklyn directly but more the genre they perform, whichever that is) , but people seem to like it. Baffling.

I stated that they had no stage presence. I shall elaborate. I thought their presence at the Mooroolbark battle that both Brooklyn and Am Farrows performed at was very boring. I haven't seen them at any other shows so therefore my opinion is flawed and ignorant in that regard. Commenting on it was pretty silly of me when I think about it.

Admittedly, I didn't really think while posting that first blawg post. I was just in a scene hating mood.

I also mentioned they rose to fame with scene credibility and overclocked hype machines (not in the words, but summarily so), which I don't entirely take back, but they didn't rise to such heights on that alone. They seem to take what they do very seriously and act as a business. My allegations were incorrect. They worked hard to get there they are. I also revoke my no talent bumpkins remark. It was more a of a general allegation on the genre rather than a direct blow in Brooklyn's face.

Although this post isn't the kindest of apologies, I hope that this can somewhat mend the 'brotherhood' of sorts between Brooklyn and Am Farrows.

In summary, Brooklyn are good, hard working guys who play music that just isn't my thing. They don't need to change because they like what they do. Congrats to them. I, on the other hand, am just a sore loser who can't accept that I'll probably amount to little or nothing because I prefer making things idiots don't understand.

After those words, I think my apology could have just nulled itself.

I'm tired, I haven't slept all night, but the scene will have a fit if I don't address this, probably.

Also I still blame Ash Hull.

Would This Be Considered Blog Fodder?

Okay, I'm going to write a blawg, and I'm just gonna let the words flow. I tried for too long to think of a decent blog topic, but none seemed to come to mind, and then I realised I was taking too long to think. If I continued to do so I'd never write a blog again.

To reference my last blawg post (All to do with my insecurities about breaking up with Katie), things have started becoming a bit better. I'm less depressed about what I've done, when I see things of her in my room and don't breakdown and cry like a little bitch anymore, but I do wish I had the courage to just talk to her again. Ah well, baby steps.

My job has been going great, I'm really very comfortable there now, except for in the factories, I doubt I'll ever be comfortable in there. So many judging eyes. But everyone's great, I've picked on quirks and senses of humor and the like of most people.

Now to tell you the absolute truth, I was working on a new scene related blawg, and with the emotion of my last blawg, I stated I didn't want to bring any more attention to the scene, which really is true. The scene is always there and it always will be, if it's easy enough for a guy like me to analyze, then clearly it can't be that complex. Really, I wasn't talking much about the scene anyways, I was talking about scene bands specifically, The general scene and the music scene, although they both tie in together, really are separate entities to discuss.

Which I'm not going to do.

Because I know, if I continue writing scene blawgs, it will eventually just become 'WHY DOES THIS BAND GET THIS? MY BAND DESERVES IT MORE, SCENE SCENE HYPE CRY CRY LOCAL GIG WAS SHIT' etc.

And really, it's only the scene that wants to read scene related posts. What is this hipster bullshit? Hating on your own social culture because you think you're better than everyone who has a similar mindset you? You people confuse me.

Anyhow, away from the scene, I have started saving money for my trip to Alaska to finally meet the lovely Emmi in person. Saving has started rather poorly. Within the first week (which in my defense, I did have half of what I needed already saved up), the internet decided to show me the two coolest guitars in the world for under $600, but the thing was, it was a first come first serve kind of thing, and there was only one of everything so I had to snatch them, I just had to. So I did. The echeque just cleared this morning, and they will be sent of tomorrow. I am pleased but displeased. I am clearly going to have money issues in the future.

But yes, Alaska. I am highly looking forward to it. Being away from all you scene kids, being away from the world really (as far as what I've heard from American's talking about Alaska), which pleases me lots. I look forward to reflecting on everything, having someone to be with that understands me more than anyone every has, being the new guy to show off, meeting new people (which probably ain't gonna happen to often, the cold will make me an indoorsaholic).

But most of all, It's finally getting to meet Emmi in person. I'm gonna be so joyful and cold (as in the weather, not emotionally) at the same time, I'm gonna have no idea what to do. I'll probably actually just be really tired from the plane trip. But I'll be happy none the less.

My mind is slowly fading away into dreamland, so I think that's my cue to depart.
I'll catch you on the flip side.

Love and shit,
Matt.

Whine Whine Complain Blah.

I'm not going to lie, because lying on the internet is wrong and I don't understand why anyone would ever do it. But seriously, this is a no bull shit post. I'm not searching for pity, I'm not looking for attention, I just need to type this out and know it's out there. Okay, here we go.

I know this part may be not so pleasant to a certain reader so I'm just gonna get this one over and done quickly. It's very hard to forget about your ex when she's the one who got you the job you go to five days a week, nine to five, day in, day out. I spend some days thinking about whether I did the right thing, if I did the wrong thing, what things would be like if I hadn't broke things off. I know it's no good for me, and I know I can't go back, but knowing it's something I can't do just makes me wonder more. Drinking has become my solace it seems, a hole in which I never wished to fall into again, but sadly it's the only thing I can get away with while I'm still at home.

The fact we don't talk just makes it harder for me. I don't know how she is, I don't know if she's okay, I don't know if she really hates me... I feel pitiful just looking over what I'm typing. I need to be stronger, I need to get past this. I have things ahead of me that are new and bright and shining but the temptation to hold myself back found a damn good ball and chain to latch on to.

I miss the physical. I miss being able to touch someone, to have someone to hold. I know I have this in reserve for me in the future, but in such tough times for myself (which really is toughness I'm putting myself through), it really is killing me. As sad as it sounds, I really just want someone to hold, it doesn't even have to be sexual, just someone to give me a proper hug, a nice cuddle when we're tired, just something with someone so I'm not so alone.

I feel bad for bitching and complaining in a blawg in which I promised a scene related post, but really, I don't want to write another. I don't like the scene therefore I do not wish to draw more attention to it. Plain and simple.

There is something about this week that's really making me feel like utter shit. It kinda really started monday night, after band practice, in which I felt bad enough that I forgot it while making a promise to talk with Emmi that night. I had one thing to do, just record the set. I forgot to change the mic settings and the audio is all distorted and gross which really annoyed me after recording the whole set. Then everyone left without even a goodbye. Tops. Then Tuesday, thinking of Katie all day, then drinking all night. Then today just working non stop all day with constant reminder of how I'm there stabbing the back of my mind.

You might think 'If it's that distressing, leave the job.' and I would, if my dad wouldn't disown me for it. If I wasn't being encouraged to go for this apprenticeship in which I've been offered, I'd have probably left already.

I recently made the mistake of going through my 18th book that all my friends (if you could call most of them that) signed. So many bad memories came pouring back into my brain. Admittedly, there were some good ones, but for the most part, they weren't fun. 90% of the promises made in that book have already been broken.

I'm probably not done being a little emo bitch, and I hate writing this garbage as it really just takes away from my lingual capabilities, but as I said, need to get this out. I have people I need to talk to, places I should be. Fare thee well... For now.

Something's fishy about the whole 'Eastern suburbs music scene'

Let me start off by saying this. My view comes from the inside of the scene, although it may just be the edge of it. My perception of the scene seems is somewhat bias towards it being stupid and annoying. I have no journalistic integrity whatsoever. If your opinion differs from mine, I really don't care, opinions are opinions, no matter what Tom Beale seems to think.

Now, this thought arose when I began to notice one thing. There's this band (for all of you uninvolved with the ESHxC scene) called Brooklyn. From my knowledge, this band formed from members of other bands that had success around the scene, which all eventually broke up or something of the like. I used to be in a band with one of these members but that's ancient history and something I shan't go in to.

My major issue with this band is that they have existed for probably no longer than two months or so, and they're already playing gigs with Closure In Moscow, Emmure (who, for the record, I do not enjoy) and other large acts. How are they doing this you might ask? From what it looks like to me, it's their reputations in the scene crowd. It's the fact that all the scene kids love there old bands and don't care what Brooklyn do, as as they remain sceneys and play hardcore.

Now this is where my opinion comes into the matter. I think the music they create is dull, uninventive and boring. There's little to no creativity. Also, from what I hear from like minded people, their on stage demeanor really accentuates the fact that they are boring and uncreative (which is one of the things that can really put me off a band. as long as you have some decent stage presence, I don't mind you).

The reason this pisses me off is that after five years of listening to shitty hardcore bands dominate the scene, I have had enough of seeing no talent bumpkins getting places that they don't deserve. A deathcore band (which Brooklyn claims to be) does not belong on a line up with Closure In Moscow.

I play in a punk band, Am Farrows, which have been imposed into the scene just because we're heavy and are from that area. I don't like this fact but it's something I have to deal with. I'm not saying that my band should play with the likes of CIM just yet, us being relatively but not so new, definitely less new than Brooklyn, but a punk band really should be getting more attention than veteran scene kids.

I blame Ash Hull.

I may post more on this subject at a later time, feel free to stick around.

Choices.

It this point in my life, I have a few choices.

One choice would entail me moving out with a friend being kicked out of his home. That would mean I would be moving out very soon. Like very soon.

Choice the second would involve me waiting for my cousin getting a job and moving out with both my cousins and another friend. That means I will probably have to wait another year or two.

Choice number three would be me giving up on everything here and just moving to Alaska. This is the hardest choice of all. I have two major things keeping me here that are very hard to give up; My cousins and my band. My job is partially a factor but a job is just a job.

The last choice I have, the least tempting of them all is just staying where I am. This is something I'd kinda like to avoid.

I would like to be able to make a choice. Sadly it looks like it's not wanting to move away from the fourth choice.

Woe is me I suppose.

The Sound of Silence?

In this modern society, do we really know what silence is? What a complete lack of sound feels like?

This thought stemmed tonight when I decided to not listen to a podcast before I went to sleep, which is something that's worked itself into my nightly repertoire, but I digress, I lie there listening to what a thought was complete silence as I thought about my love of sound and my hatred of lack there of.

Of most of the memories I remember as a small child, no matter how mundane, not one of them was lacking in a memorable sound. From the VCR rewinding, to the Sega Megadrive II playing it's 8 bit motor bike sounds, to Laura practicing the recorder for year 7 music class, those memories remain, and to this day I think it really made me hate a lack of sound, which lead to my musical obsession and love of sound experimenting and exploration, but that's another topic altogether.

My mind glazed over the words as I thought them in my head, 'God I hate silence', and then it hit me. This wasn't silence, I can still hear my external hard drive spinning and the hum of my computer speakers. The rustle of my pillow as my head moved, the springs in my mattress, I really was not in a state of silence.

Then that got me thinking, nowadays, with electrical humming and cars zooming by, how many of us know true silence, or just know the importance of silence? In the future, will silence only exist in recording studios  or a hypothetical concrete room 100 feet underground?

I don't have enough important things to think about.

Breasts.

Today was different from most other days. Today, a thought happened.

I was in the shower, the place where all my great thoughts happen. If I could blawg in the shower, by blawgs would be a hell of a lot more interesting. Anyway, trailing off topic. I was thinking about breasts, a thing I do often and it occurred to me that in a physical sense, breasts don't really matter.

Undeniably, breasts are fun and I envy girls for having them all the time but what attracts me to them is the fact that I don't get to see them all too often, and even when I do, size doesn't matter.

I don't understand the whole preferring larger or smaller breasts (although in my honest opinion, they both have there pros and cons), The fact that they are the main teasing point even when a woman's intentions is not to tease.

I'm not gonna lie, there was a point to this when I had this thought, but that was this morning, it's now around 6 PM.

All in all, I enjoy breasts. They don't matter but they still turn me on.
I'm confusing myself as I type this.

'til net time.
Matt.

I'm Sorry.

Oh Look, Another Sad Blawg...

Today has perhaps become one of the most depressing days of my life. (This is fair warning to all those who dislike whiney blogs about being depressed and sad and shit like that. If you read on, it's your own fault.)

The day was generally okay, not much happened, just lazed around feeling sorry for myself coz I'm a loser, no different from most other days really, But then I decided to play a childhood game.

A bit of backstory for those who don't know, I recently decided to go back and finally actually finish playing The Legend of Zelda: Link's Awakening DX, which I've had for almost fifteen years and never completed, which then inspired me to play other beloved childhood games. Up until now, all I've been playing is Zelda, which has been fun admittedly, but at the moment I'm a little stuck (for the umpteenth time) so I decided to take a break and start on a new game.

Now, Pokemon, as people close to me should know, holds a place very near to my heart. It was probably at some points in my life the reason I lived. I feared dying before the next game came out. Game-wise, I was never a champion, but I wasn't totally shit at it either but I always enjoyed it, ever since Pokemon Red entered my house. To put it shortly, Pokemon is related to most likely the happiest of my childhood memories.

Now back to the story. I decided that perhaps a blast from the not too far ago but still childhood past would do me some good, so I plugged Pokemon Sapphire into my Nova F.M. branded GameBoy Advance SP and booted it up. All is fine and dandy at this point.

The game turns on, I start a new game, as Katie has been 'borrowing' it from me for quite some time, and the internal battery of the cartridge had run dead. I decided to start as a girl this time (We can all wish). I start playing, pick Mudkip as per usual coz he's a badass. I'm into the game about fifteen, maybe twenty minutes and I suddenly realise...

This game is fucking boring...


It echoed in my head, lingering in disbelief that I, such an avid lover of Pokemon, could ever utter such words inside his head. It hurt. It made my chest heavy, my female alias on the tiny small screen in front of me stood motionless for a good five minutes. A piece of my childhood just... dropped off. Fell out. Disappeared. Gone forever.

Have I grown up? Probably not. Am I no longer a child at heart? Most probably.

On an equally depressing matter, I see all the old acquaintances on FaceBook and such, they've grown up, they've started living, they're going places, and I'm still sitting here, whining to the internet in a room I don't own, while listening out for footsteps because the modem shouldn't be on this late.

I'm the definition of sad.

Okay new topic.

I recently (and by recently I mean in the time between my last blawg and now) quit the band I helped create, Atlantis Is Burning. There was no distaint or anything like that, I just felt I could move on to bigger and better things, and that I should stop being a part of some thing I hate (the trendy scene, not the band). I wish for the best in future effort to the three remaining members, please keep AIB strong, it was a good project, don't fuck it up. I'm lookin' at you Jair.

That being said, I've become all in a tizzy. I've been left with little to no motivation musically. I've been trying to write more stuff but I can't seem to cut free from the heavy vibe. It's really keeping me in a funk, and not the good kind of funk.

I've also been experiencing... you could say, an identity crisis of sorts. Recently, things have been making my notice how much I wish I... wasn't a guy. Not just physically. I'm not sure about this whole thing, I'm still trying to get my own head around it.

Anywhozle, I'm gonna go back to crying and starving myself. If you have any questions, leave a comment or just ask me, none of my readers are people I don't know I would assume.

'til next time.
Me. I think.

Writing This Blawg Was So Much Better In A Baja Hoodie

Days of recent have been somewhat frantic (by frantic I mean my kind of frantic, which is basically having more than 3 things you have to do in one day for more than two days) in looking for a course at the last minute, listening to my parents nag at me about apprenticeships and driving lessons and such.

It doesn't help that during all this I happen to fall sick, but I have my baja hoodie so everything's alright.

Seriously, everything is so much better in a baja hoodie.

You should get one.

Seriously. Go.

Anywho, other than the stuff already mentioned, not a lot has happened. AIB has begun again, things are getting back on track, even if our new drummer isn't a clone of Chris. I'm trying to write within sensible limitations, it's hard, but I do enjoy a challenge when it comes to things I love. Such as music.

I have nothing else to talk about.

Spuds.

It's been about a month since I last posted. I haven't really been in much of a mood to write for the past month but I feel if I keep myself in this funk I'll never write a blog again.

Things have happened since I last wrote, as they tend to do. Namely, my birthday and christmas which I've never held either as much of a special occasion, but they happen every year, so it's one of the few things in life that has a permanent consistency, I suppose that's one thing I like about it.

Since getting a new guitar (a christmas present), all I've really been doing with my time at home is writing music. But something has taken a new turn. I think I'm finally getting a social life.

As of recent, I've been taking trips with friends to pubs, a thing I never thought I'd do on my own accord, but I'm seeing old friends, I'm getting to know other people better, and best of all I'm able to smoke to my heart's (perhaps lungs would be a better choice of internal organ) content.

I've gained a fair amount of weight due to the holiday season, which has put me down a little. I was going pretty good for a while, I was getting pretty confident with my body, but then KFC, christmas lunch, endless supplies of white chocolate given as presents, McDonalds, and other miscellaneous foods got in the way.

As usual, by the end of my blogs, I'm less content than I was at the time I started it. I've just been a potato sack full of discontent this whole previous month. At least I'm still me.