Fear

OldAgeSo it’s been awhile since I’ve done this blogging malarky, so bear with me.

Does anyone even read/visit this thing anymore? I don’t know, I’m not the world megastar I used to be. But never the less I’ve been wanting to get back into it for awhile but I sit in front of a computer all day at work; struggling with the desire to just stand up and yell “FUCK THIS” and walk out. So by the time I get home all I want to do is curl up into a ball and hide until I’m demanded to show my face again.

The other day a friend asked me what I fear the most; not the sort of fear you’d grant spiders or giant moths, but what really scares me. The thing that’s constantly in the back of my mind.

Too be honest, I’m pretty thick skinned and I rarely show my true emotions so I don’t often share a great deal with many people.

But I will tell you the one thing that’s constantly at the back of my mind, the one thing that worries me on a daily basis, the thing that fills my mind when I shut my eyes. For many people the one thing that they fear the most is death; that not knowing what lies beyond your final breath; for many they believe in a religion and it helps them day in and day out; believing that what you do when you’re alive will decide your ultimate fate whether it be heaven, hell or even reincarnation, but I personally believe that after we close our eyes for the last time what lies beyond is nothingness.

Do you remember what life was like before you were born? No of course you don’t because you didn’t exist and I think that after we die we’ll simply cease to exist again. No heaven, no hell, no reincarnation, we get our years on this Earth and when your time comes that’s it; you’ll just be no more.

So no death does not scare me, because once you’re dead you’ll feel no more pain, physical or mental and believe me I’ve had my fair share of both over my three decades on this planet.

So what really frightens me to my very core then? Quite simply, old age.
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Lost Mind

Me In 50 Years

What’s going on people? Miss me? I’m sure you have, I’m awesome.

I have still yet to return from Scotland, I’ll probably head back on Monday, still have my cousins wedding to attend tomorrow which I’m sure will be bags of fun =/. The thing about weddings is, unless I’m not directly involved I just find them boring.

I don’t want to stand in a church and sing stupid religious songs (especially considering all parties involved aren’t even religious themselves) nor do I find sitting down and standing up every five minutes especially pleasing.

“But you get to be reunited with your family.” They say, but that’s what Facebook was invented for so I wouldn’t have to. I’m probably the most disconnected member of this family, my real family are my friends that have been there for me over the years, not these half strangers. I’m no one important to this wedding, just a cousin, a cousin who lives 350 miles away, a cousin who most likely won’t even be noticed or spoken to by the bride and groom during the entire thing, much like my other cousins wedding earlier this year. At least then I had that trout faced bitch I called a girlfriend to talk to that time around.

I’m just there to add to the numbers. I’m not bitter or anything, it’s just a fact. I fully expect them to be bored and pointless when they attend my wedding (LOL). Never the less, here I am up north and have been since I returned home from Leeds Festival last Monday; shit, showered, shaved and I was straight up here in the car.
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Conversation With My Grandmother

Not my actual Grandmother, she's far too much of a GILF to be related to me...

Grandparents, to some people there’s no one better than a grandparent, whether it be your grandfather who offers you sweets or your grandmother, who offers you sweets…

You are usually blessed with two sets of grandparents, I wasn’t however, my mums parents both died when she was relatively young so I just had my dads side of the family.

I have some fond memories of my grandparents when I was a child, not many though as I didn’t particularly like them all that much, grandmother had a definite drinking problem, which people denied at first though I was the first to point it out, like one year they came over for Christmas, I came down one morning and caught my Gran in my dads liquor cabinet sneakily trying drinks at 7 in the morning, no one believed me though, I was just a child, they say her alcoholism was caused by the harshness of my Grandfather, he wasn’t abusive but a bit of a twat if you know what I mean… Continue reading “Conversation With My Grandmother”