It's been a difficult weekend for me. I found out that a dear friend has been wrongfully convicted of one of modern societys greatest taboo, that of having indecent images of minors on a laptop.
I have utter faith in this person, and trust this loving individual not to get caught up in such circumstances. The tragic irony is that the person in question actually found the images on their personal laptop and reported it to the authorities. In the belief that the right thing was being done, it transpired that images and movies were downloaded, but were disguised within zip files and titled with legitimate names. The laptop was used on a public Uni network and had a second-hand hard drive installed. There were so many ways this material could have found its way onto this persons laptop, none of which were intentional.
However, because in legal terms, this is still classed as 'making' indecent images or films of minors. As such, the press pounced on this story like rabid hyenas, with no due care or concern for the facts or regard for a life now in tatters. I wrote into the press:
Published in a local 'newspaper' following an investigation into a 22 year old accused of having child pornography on their computer - clarifying terms and addressing public witch hunts:
"Regarding the comment made by Luke Robberts, I would like to thank him for clarifying the term "making" which refers simply to possessing, intentionally or otherwise. This term is grossly inaccurate to the public, and having worked for the Ministry of Justice for several years, I have seen the traumatic damage caused to innocent people accused over something which can so easily happen to any of you. Just to clarify, the term "making" refers to objectionable material which is deemed to be in your possession. It does not mean that the accused has been physically producing objectionable material by physically filming video footage or taking photographs. It is very common for such offensive material to find itself on ones computer or laptop hard-drive through no intentional fault of the user of the computer equipment. For example, laptops or computers which are shared between work colleagues or students at a university, network sharing, and the downloading files from peer-to-peer network services such as Limewire and Torrent sites can easily, but unwittingly download such objectionable material disguised as legitimate material. The other risk is if the owner of laptop or PC has bought such hardware second-hand or has had, for example, had a second-hand hard-drive installed. Sadly, I have seen many people wrongly accused of such unintentional mistakes, which has inevitably ruined the entirety of their life. It is not for us, the public to jump to irrational conclusions and start a witch hunt. Trial and punishment by public opinion and hate campaigns as a result of dubious media coverage blights this country. We all have a duty to protect the welfare of our children and any other vulnerable person, but unless we know the exact details of a particular case, or have had personal contact with the accused, we would do well to keep our opinions to ourselves and allow to the courts to take its natural course of inquiry."
As a result of my comments, some people have also turned their backs on me, as a guilt by association phenomenon. People have blocked me on Facebook, sent abusive emails and made liablous accusations. Before my comment were deleted from Facebook, and before I was blocked for simply expressing a point of view, I wrote:
"It's a shame that some people have lost sight of who the real victim is here. If only they would listen to the voice of reason - and experience - they might realise that behind the cheap newspaper article, there is a broken, loving human soul with a life in tatters. At the time when friends couldn't be more important, they run... It serves some of you well to be in possession of the facts before jumping to tragic, bitterly hurtful conclusions. I am not ashamed to stand tall, be counted, have faith and trust in my dear friend and support this fragile person you so easily judge."
These are just my notes. I will not desert my friend and will offer support wherever I can. I am not ashamed. On that note, I'll end on one of my adapted poems:
THE FELLOWSHIP OF THE UNASHAMED
I am part of the fellowship of the unashamed.
The die has been cast.
I have stepped over the line.
The decision has been made.
I won't look back, let up, slow down,
back away, or be still.
My past is redeemed,
my present makes sense,
and my future is secure.
I am finished and done with low living, sight walking, small planning,
smooth knees, colorless dreams,
tight giving, and crumpled goals.
I no longer need pre-eminence, prosperity, position,promotions,
plaudits, or popularity.
I now live by presence, learn by faith, love by patience, lift by prayer,
and labour by power.
My pace is set, my gait is fast,
my goal is set, my road is narrow,
my way is rough, my companions few, my guide reliable, my mission clear.
I cannot be bought, compromised, deterred, lured away, turned back, diluted, or delayed.
I will not flinch in the face of sacrifice, hesitate in the presence of adversity, negotiate at the table of the enemy,
ponder at the pool of popularity, or meander in the maze of mediocrity.
I must give until I drop,
Preach until you listen,
and work until you notice.
And when you come to find me,
You will have no problem recognising me.
My colors will be clear.
For I am part of the fellowship of the unashamed.
(RP)
Monday, 31 August 2009
Saturday, 22 August 2009
I loved loving you, my friend...
You were always so perfect to me,
so soft and gentle,
cherishing you instantly,
without a second glance,
I never distrusted those eyes,
that lied to me continuously,
I promised you I'd always try,
but slowly you were losing me.
I would always have given you anything,
just to keep your interest,
stopping my heart from remembering,
all the pain you caused,
I never pulled away from that kiss,
that held a painful hint of truth,
Maybe you'd be too hard to miss,
so I said I was still in love with you.
I wanted more than just the infatuation,
that you found in me.
You said love was only a distraction,
that you really didn't need,
so I cried myself to sleep,
knowing the times we shared must end.
You couldn't let emotion run deep,
you said you made love to me, as a friend.
But eventually, my love,
friendships fade, too,
and I can't make love and walk away,
pretending I don't love you.
Never once did I push you away,
but everything comes to end,
so all that's left to say,
is goodbye,
I loved loving you, my friend.
Sum: An Afterlife
In the afterlife you relive all your experiences, but this time with the events reshuffled into a new order: all the moments that share a quality are grouped together.
You spend two months driving the street in front of your house, seven months having sex. You sleep for thirty years without opening your eyes. For five months straight you flip through magazines while sitting on a toilet.
You take all your pain at once, all twenty-seven intense hours of it. Bones break, cars crash, skin is cut, babies are born. Once you make it through, it's agony-free for the rest of your afterlife.
But that doesn't mean it's always pleasant. You spend six days clipping your nails. Fifteen months looking for lost items. Eighteen months waiting in line. Two years of boredom: staring out a bus window, sitting in an airport terminal. One year reading books. Your eyes hurt, and you itch, because you can't take a shower until it's your time to take your marathon two-hundred-day shower. Two weeks wondering what happens when you die. One minute realizing your body is falling. Seventy-seven hours of confusion. One hour realizing you've forgotten someone's name. Three weeks realizing you are wrong. Two days lying. Six weeks waiting for a green light. Seven hours vomiting. Fourteen minutes experiencing pure joy. Three months doing laundry. Fifteen hours writing your signature. Two days tying shoelaces. Sixty-seven days of heartbreak. Five weeks driving lost. Three days calculating restaurant tips. Fifty-one days deciding what to wear. Nine days pretending you know what is being talked about. Two weeks counting money. Eighteen days staring into the refrigerator. Thirty-four days longing. Six months watching commercials. Four weeks sitting in thought, wondering if there is something better you could be doing with your time. Three years swallowing food. Five days working buttons and zippers. Four minutes wondering what your life would be like if you reshuffled the order of events. In this part of the afterlife, you imagine something analogous to your Earthly life, and the thought is blissful: a life where episodes are split into tiny swallowable pieces, where moments do not endure, where one experiences the joy of jumping from one event to the next like a child hopping from spot to spot on the burning sand..
You spend two months driving the street in front of your house, seven months having sex. You sleep for thirty years without opening your eyes. For five months straight you flip through magazines while sitting on a toilet.
You take all your pain at once, all twenty-seven intense hours of it. Bones break, cars crash, skin is cut, babies are born. Once you make it through, it's agony-free for the rest of your afterlife.
But that doesn't mean it's always pleasant. You spend six days clipping your nails. Fifteen months looking for lost items. Eighteen months waiting in line. Two years of boredom: staring out a bus window, sitting in an airport terminal. One year reading books. Your eyes hurt, and you itch, because you can't take a shower until it's your time to take your marathon two-hundred-day shower. Two weeks wondering what happens when you die. One minute realizing your body is falling. Seventy-seven hours of confusion. One hour realizing you've forgotten someone's name. Three weeks realizing you are wrong. Two days lying. Six weeks waiting for a green light. Seven hours vomiting. Fourteen minutes experiencing pure joy. Three months doing laundry. Fifteen hours writing your signature. Two days tying shoelaces. Sixty-seven days of heartbreak. Five weeks driving lost. Three days calculating restaurant tips. Fifty-one days deciding what to wear. Nine days pretending you know what is being talked about. Two weeks counting money. Eighteen days staring into the refrigerator. Thirty-four days longing. Six months watching commercials. Four weeks sitting in thought, wondering if there is something better you could be doing with your time. Three years swallowing food. Five days working buttons and zippers. Four minutes wondering what your life would be like if you reshuffled the order of events. In this part of the afterlife, you imagine something analogous to your Earthly life, and the thought is blissful: a life where episodes are split into tiny swallowable pieces, where moments do not endure, where one experiences the joy of jumping from one event to the next like a child hopping from spot to spot on the burning sand..
Difficult Choices in Robert Frost's The Road Not Taken
In Robert Frost's " The Road Not Taken", Frost talks about being sorry he could not travel down both roads. In people's lives there are times when we feel the same way. When faced with choices about what path to take in life, there are advantages and disadvantages to all choices. All of the choices could have the potential for surprises, joys, and sorrows. Nonetheless, we must choose only one. Once chosen, we often cannot go back and see what it would have been like to choose the other. Only in films like "Sliding Doors", are we able to see what might have been when someone else makes a different choice. But, would we be better off if we could see what might have been? This of course cannot happen in reality, but most of us wish it could at some point in our lives. Again, would we be better off this way?I would say no. Making choices is a hard process, but necessary to progress forward in life. There are choices we must make in an instant, and then there are the choices that keep us up at night. Both kinds of choices are vital in life, and can have eternal consequences. If we were allowed to go back and see what would have happened if we made a different choice, we would either be overjoyed about the choices we have made or be filled with sorrow about the choices we have made. More than likely, we would have a mixture of emotions. But in any case, the next choice we would be faced with in life would not be made any easier. If anything, it would be made harder. If we are happy about the choices we have made in the past, it would make us worry about what making bad choices would be like, and if we were unhappy, we would worry about continuing on our same streak of bad choices.
Because of our desire to go back and see what might have been, combined with the knowledge that we cannot, we are in Frost';s position once again. He looks down both as far as he can, and makes his decision from that. When we have the opportunity to take our time about choices, we weigh the long term consequences, and see which is better. Like Frost, however, we can only see a little way down the road. There will be surprises, one can be sure of that, but these surprises are what make life interesting.
The narrator tells this poem with a sigh. This sigh can be one of many sighs - a sigh of relief, a sigh of frustration, a sigh of exhaustion, or a sigh of delight. Frost leaves the interpretation of the sigh up to the reader. As I look back at the choices made in my own life, any one of these sighs could be used at different times. This sighing is "ages and ages hence." It takes a while before you can look back at choices made and see what truly has become because of the choices. It is not something you can do instantly and see what the results are.
Along with the sigh leaving the reader to make their own conclusion, the last line of the poem leaves interpretation up to the reader as well. "And that has made all the difference." Has this made a difference for the better or for the worse? Frost probably intentionally left these holes in the poem so that the reader would be able to see the poem in comparison to their own life, and not in Frost's light of the poem. Poems that let the reader interpret what they want makes for a more interesting poem, because the poem can relate to the reader better.
The road Frost took "was grassy and wanted wear". This description of the road only adds to the statement that it was the one "less traveled by". Taking this path in life is much harder most of the time. For people to step away from what is normal in their society and to go the way they think is right is challenging, yet often rewarding. It is what makes the world a fascinating place to live. The founders of America had to make the decision to break away from what they had always known - being oppressed by another country - and we are all enjoying the results of that decision. That process did not come without fighting, struggle, and heartache, but the end result of a country where every person can live in freedom was worth the chance of being shamed in front of the whole world.
As we all travel throughout our daily lives, we are faced with pressing choices that need to be made. These decisions not only affect our own lives, but other lives as well. A mother and wife who is being abused has the choice to stay in the abusive relationship or to get out to safety. In either choice, her children will be deeply affected. If she stays, her children are in a situation that could easily lead to them being abused. Also, if she stays, her children will be watching their parent's relationship, and will grow up with a warped view of how a family should run. But, if the woman chooses to get out of the house, she will be able to live a life free of her husband's control and her children will be able to see how a brave person acts when faced with difficulties. As you can see, both options in the choice have consequences on not only the woman, but her children as well.
Robert Frost's "The Road Not Taken" is a poem in which the reader can get a wide variety of interpretations. These are only a few of the interpretations that the reader can derive from the poem. (RP)
Related Post: The Road Not Taken
The Road not Taken
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
by Robert Frost (1874–1963)
Related Post: Robert Frost's Difficult Choices in "The Road Not Taken" - A short essay by Ryan Price
Wednesday, 19 August 2009
Alone
Alone, a reflection
(and yes, that's me in the photo...)
I know you don't care
You don't care about me
I'm just something in the way
Something you don't wish to see.
You only speak to me under sufferance
You'd far rather pack me off somewhere else
You don't want to have anything to do with me
You make me feel like that myself.
I wish you'd talk to me
I wish you'd laugh with me
I wish you'd be there for me
I wish you'd understand me.
I just want you to put your arms round me
And say it's going to be OK,
I just want you to want me here
Not like I was forced on you to stay.
You don't talk to me
You don't smile at me
You don't ask me
You don't want to know me.
The sooner I'm out of your life
The better, I've heard you say,
The sooner you don't have to keep an eye on me
That'll be a wonderful day.
You haven't said this to my face
But I see it every time you look at me,
I know I'm not wanted,
I know I'm not loved,
Which is always going to be the way for me.
You don't ever worry about me
If I'm late,
You just think that I'm
One big mistake.
You should have said no,
No, I don't want him,
That would have stopped me hurting
For sure.
But you didn't, and it hurts,
It really does,
And I know it's never going to change,
As I walk away,
As I run away,
Alone,
Empty,
Unloved.
(and yes, that's me in the photo...)
I know you don't care
You don't care about me
I'm just something in the way
Something you don't wish to see.
You only speak to me under sufferance
You'd far rather pack me off somewhere else
You don't want to have anything to do with me
You make me feel like that myself.
I wish you'd talk to me
I wish you'd laugh with me
I wish you'd be there for me
I wish you'd understand me.
I just want you to put your arms round me
And say it's going to be OK,
I just want you to want me here
Not like I was forced on you to stay.
You don't talk to me
You don't smile at me
You don't ask me
You don't want to know me.
The sooner I'm out of your life
The better, I've heard you say,
The sooner you don't have to keep an eye on me
That'll be a wonderful day.
You haven't said this to my face
But I see it every time you look at me,
I know I'm not wanted,
I know I'm not loved,
Which is always going to be the way for me.
You don't ever worry about me
If I'm late,
You just think that I'm
One big mistake.
You should have said no,
No, I don't want him,
That would have stopped me hurting
For sure.
But you didn't, and it hurts,
It really does,
And I know it's never going to change,
As I walk away,
As I run away,
Alone,
Empty,
Unloved.
What am I Doing Here?
What am i doing here
When i was brought in the world
Through blood and tears
How will it end
How will it end
I’m not trying to be melodramic
I try hard to think what i’m going to say
'Cause i want to keep the friends that i’ve got
Well i think i do anyway
How will it end
How will it end
I can’t think of good things
When they happen
I wait for the shit to come
And i love you one and all
One and all
What am i doing here
When i was brought in the world
Through blood and tears
How will it end
How will it end
I’m going to stop being scared
Of what happens when i say what I think
I’m gonna stand up and be brave about it
Look who i am i’ve got a brain
I’ve got a thought between these ears
Feelings between eyes
You want to see
And i am no pig with it’s trotters on your plate
To come and cut into and salivate into
What am i doing here
I was brought in this world through blood and tears
How will it end
How will it end
How will it end
How will it end
How will it end
Kathryn Williams / Caw Records
ryan@kathrynwilliams.co.uk
Tuesday, 18 August 2009
Love is patient, love is kind...
"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always preserves."
-- 1 Corinthians 13:4-7
Notes on Love (RP)
There are times when we are timid and shy about expressing the love we feel. For fear of embarrassing the other person, or ourselves, we hesitate to say the actual words "I love you." So we try to communicate the idea in other words.
We say 'take care' or 'don't drive too fast' or 'be good.' But really, these are just other ways of saying 'I love you,' 'you are important to me,' 'I care what happens to you.'
We are sometimes very strange people. The only thing we want to say, and the one thing that we should say, is the one thing we don't say.
And yet, because the feeling is so real, and the need to say it is so strong, we are driven to use other words and signs to say what we really mean. And many times the meaning never gets communicated at all and the other person is left feeling unloved and unwanted.
Therefore, we have to listen for love in the words that people are saying to us. Sometimes the explicit words are necessary, but more often, the manner of saying things is even more important. A joyous insult carries more affection and love within the sentiments which are expressed insincerely.
An impulsive hug says I love you even though the words might be saying a very different thing.
Any expression of a person's concern for another says I love you. Sometimes the expression is clumsy, sometimes even cruel. Sometimes we must look and listen very intently for the love that contains. But it is often there, beneath the surface.
A mother may nag her son constantly about school or cleaning his room. The son may hear only the nagging, but if he listens carefully, he will hear the love underneath the nagging. His mother wants him to do well, to be successful. Her concern and love for her son unfortunately emerge in her nagging. But it is love all the same.
A daughter comes home really late, and her father confronts her with angry words. The daughter may hear only the anger, but if she listen carefully, she will hear the love under the anger. "I was worried about you," the father is saying. "Because I care about you and I love you. You are important to me."
We say I love you in many ways - with birthday gifts, and little notes, with smiles and sometimes with tears.
Sometimes we show our love by just keeping quiet and not saying a word, at other times by speaking out, even brusquely. We show our love sometimes by impulsiveness. Many times we have to show our love by forgiving someone who has not listened to the love we have tried to express.
The problem in listening for love is that we don't always understand the language of love which the other person is using.
A girl may use tears or emotions to say what she wants to say, and her boyfriend may not understand her because he expects her to be talking his language. Thus, we have to force ourselves to really listen for love.
The problem with our world is that people rarely listen to each other. They hear the words, but they don't listen to the actions that accompany the words or the expression on the face.
Or people listen only for rejection or misunderstanding. They do not see the love that is there just beneath the surface, even if the words are angry.
We have to listen for love in those around us.
If we listen intently we will discover that we are a lot more loved than we realise. Listen for love and we will find that the world is a very loving place, after all.
-- 1 Corinthians 13:4-7
Notes on Love (RP)
There are times when we are timid and shy about expressing the love we feel. For fear of embarrassing the other person, or ourselves, we hesitate to say the actual words "I love you." So we try to communicate the idea in other words.
We say 'take care' or 'don't drive too fast' or 'be good.' But really, these are just other ways of saying 'I love you,' 'you are important to me,' 'I care what happens to you.'
We are sometimes very strange people. The only thing we want to say, and the one thing that we should say, is the one thing we don't say.
And yet, because the feeling is so real, and the need to say it is so strong, we are driven to use other words and signs to say what we really mean. And many times the meaning never gets communicated at all and the other person is left feeling unloved and unwanted.
Therefore, we have to listen for love in the words that people are saying to us. Sometimes the explicit words are necessary, but more often, the manner of saying things is even more important. A joyous insult carries more affection and love within the sentiments which are expressed insincerely.
An impulsive hug says I love you even though the words might be saying a very different thing.
Any expression of a person's concern for another says I love you. Sometimes the expression is clumsy, sometimes even cruel. Sometimes we must look and listen very intently for the love that contains. But it is often there, beneath the surface.
A mother may nag her son constantly about school or cleaning his room. The son may hear only the nagging, but if he listens carefully, he will hear the love underneath the nagging. His mother wants him to do well, to be successful. Her concern and love for her son unfortunately emerge in her nagging. But it is love all the same.
A daughter comes home really late, and her father confronts her with angry words. The daughter may hear only the anger, but if she listen carefully, she will hear the love under the anger. "I was worried about you," the father is saying. "Because I care about you and I love you. You are important to me."
We say I love you in many ways - with birthday gifts, and little notes, with smiles and sometimes with tears.
Sometimes we show our love by just keeping quiet and not saying a word, at other times by speaking out, even brusquely. We show our love sometimes by impulsiveness. Many times we have to show our love by forgiving someone who has not listened to the love we have tried to express.
The problem in listening for love is that we don't always understand the language of love which the other person is using.
A girl may use tears or emotions to say what she wants to say, and her boyfriend may not understand her because he expects her to be talking his language. Thus, we have to force ourselves to really listen for love.
The problem with our world is that people rarely listen to each other. They hear the words, but they don't listen to the actions that accompany the words or the expression on the face.
Or people listen only for rejection or misunderstanding. They do not see the love that is there just beneath the surface, even if the words are angry.
We have to listen for love in those around us.
If we listen intently we will discover that we are a lot more loved than we realise. Listen for love and we will find that the world is a very loving place, after all.
Monday, 17 August 2009
Who am I?
(For "A")
Don't be fooled by me.
Don't be fooled by the face I wear,
For I wear a mask, I wear a thousand masks.
Masks I am afraid to take off.
But none of them are me.
But do not be fooled.
I give you the impression that I am secure,
That all is sunny and unruffled with me,
Within as well as without,
That confidence is my name and coolness my game,
And that I need no one,
Don't believe me,
Please.
My surface may be smooth,
But my surface is my mask,
My varying and ever concealing mask.
Beneath lies no smugness,
No complacence.
Beneath dwells the real me,
In confusion and fear,
In loneliness.
I idly chatter with you in the suave tones of surface talk.
I tell you everything that's really nothing,
Of what's crying within me.
So, when I'm going through my routine,
Please don't be fooled by what I'm saying.
Please listen carefully, and try to hear not what I am saying,
But what I'm not saying,
And listen to what I'd like to be able to say,
What for survival I need to say,
But through fear,
I cannot say.
Only you can call me into aliveness,
Each time you're kind, and gentle, and encouraging.
Each time you try to understand because you really care,
My heart begins to grow wings.
Very small wings, very feeble wings, but wings.
With your sympathy and sensitivity,
And your power of understanding,
You can breathe life into me,
This I want you to know and understand.
I want you to know how important you are to me,
How you can be a creator of the person that is me if you choose to.
Please choose to.
Do not pass me by.
It will not be easy for you.
My long conviction of worthlessness builds strong walls.
The nearer you approach me, the blinder
I may strike back.
I fight against the very thing I cry out for,
But I am told that love is stronger than strong walls,
In this lies my hope.
My only hope.
Who am I, you may wonder.
I am someone you know very well,
I am a hurting member of your family,
I am the hurting person sitting beside you in this room,
I am every person you meet on the street.
Please don't believe my mask,
Please come behind it to glimpse the real me.
Please speak to me, share a little of yourself with me,
At least recognise me.
Please.
Because you care.
© Ryan Price 1999-2009
Don't be fooled by me.
Don't be fooled by the face I wear,
For I wear a mask, I wear a thousand masks.
Masks I am afraid to take off.
But none of them are me.
But do not be fooled.
I give you the impression that I am secure,
That all is sunny and unruffled with me,
Within as well as without,
That confidence is my name and coolness my game,
And that I need no one,
Don't believe me,
Please.
My surface may be smooth,
But my surface is my mask,
My varying and ever concealing mask.
Beneath lies no smugness,
No complacence.
Beneath dwells the real me,
In confusion and fear,
In loneliness.
I idly chatter with you in the suave tones of surface talk.
I tell you everything that's really nothing,
Of what's crying within me.
So, when I'm going through my routine,
Please don't be fooled by what I'm saying.
Please listen carefully, and try to hear not what I am saying,
But what I'm not saying,
And listen to what I'd like to be able to say,
What for survival I need to say,
But through fear,
I cannot say.
Only you can call me into aliveness,
Each time you're kind, and gentle, and encouraging.
Each time you try to understand because you really care,
My heart begins to grow wings.
Very small wings, very feeble wings, but wings.
With your sympathy and sensitivity,
And your power of understanding,
You can breathe life into me,
This I want you to know and understand.
I want you to know how important you are to me,
How you can be a creator of the person that is me if you choose to.
Please choose to.
Do not pass me by.
It will not be easy for you.
My long conviction of worthlessness builds strong walls.
The nearer you approach me, the blinder
I may strike back.
I fight against the very thing I cry out for,
But I am told that love is stronger than strong walls,
In this lies my hope.
My only hope.
Who am I, you may wonder.
I am someone you know very well,
I am a hurting member of your family,
I am the hurting person sitting beside you in this room,
I am every person you meet on the street.
Please don't believe my mask,
Please come behind it to glimpse the real me.
Please speak to me, share a little of yourself with me,
At least recognise me.
Please.
Because you care.
© Ryan Price 1999-2009
Lost
Lost in a sea of faces.
All alone in the crowd.
No one turns an ear,
Though I scream out loud.
Lost alone in the darkness,
Why can't anyone hear?
Warmth is fading swiftly,
And the snows are drawing near.
Lost without a friend,
I face the world alone.
No one's here to hear me laugh.
Oblivion is my home.
The light is ever fading.
The darkness drawing nigh.
Will nobody come to me,
To bring me to the light?
We all just stand around speaking.
Illusion, no one really hears.
We're all too concerned with ourselves,
Fighting our own fears.
You can't see the world through a mirror,
But no one tried to break through.
We wallow in our own darkness
We wander without a clue.
If just one hand could pierce the darkness
To grab another's hand,
No longer would we all be lost,
And light would flood the land.
All alone in the crowd.
No one turns an ear,
Though I scream out loud.
Lost alone in the darkness,
Why can't anyone hear?
Warmth is fading swiftly,
And the snows are drawing near.
Lost without a friend,
I face the world alone.
No one's here to hear me laugh.
Oblivion is my home.
The light is ever fading.
The darkness drawing nigh.
Will nobody come to me,
To bring me to the light?
We all just stand around speaking.
Illusion, no one really hears.
We're all too concerned with ourselves,
Fighting our own fears.
You can't see the world through a mirror,
But no one tried to break through.
We wallow in our own darkness
We wander without a clue.
If just one hand could pierce the darkness
To grab another's hand,
No longer would we all be lost,
And light would flood the land.
Someone To Watch Over Me
Someone To Watch Over Me
(with live video at the end of the lyrics)
There's a somebody I'm longing to see
I hope that he turns out to be
Someone who'll watch over me
I'm a little lamb who's lost in a wood
I know I could always be good
To one who'll watch over me
Although I may not be the man
Some guys think of as handsome
But to his heart
I carry the key
Won't you tell him please to put on some speed
Follow my lead, oh how I need
Someone to watch over me
I'm a little lamb who's lost in a wood
I know I could always be good
To one who'll watch over me
Although I may not be the man
Some guys think of as handsome
But to his heart
I carry the key
And this world would be like heaven, if he'd
Follow my lead, oh how I need
Someone to watch over me
Someone to watch over me...
Words and music by Judy Garland with adaptations by Ryan Price & Martha Wainwright (pictured)
(with live video at the end of the lyrics)
There's a somebody I'm longing to see
I hope that he turns out to be
Someone who'll watch over me
I'm a little lamb who's lost in a wood
I know I could always be good
To one who'll watch over me
Although I may not be the man
Some guys think of as handsome
But to his heart
I carry the key
Won't you tell him please to put on some speed
Follow my lead, oh how I need
Someone to watch over me
I'm a little lamb who's lost in a wood
I know I could always be good
To one who'll watch over me
Although I may not be the man
Some guys think of as handsome
But to his heart
I carry the key
And this world would be like heaven, if he'd
Follow my lead, oh how I need
Someone to watch over me
Someone to watch over me...
Words and music by Judy Garland with adaptations by Ryan Price & Martha Wainwright (pictured)
Saturday, 15 August 2009
I sent an email to a good friend. Thought I might as well post it here, as it could apply to all of you. Reach out - touch this lonely Ryan... The email:
Dear Joe Applesead
(not his real name!!!)!
A personal email for once!
I just thought I'd drop a line to say hi and to just pass on the link to my old, but revamped blog. It's got most of my news on there...
www.uselessdesires.co.uk
But for the last year in a nutshell, go to my yearly summary by going to:
http://uselessdesires.blogspot.com/2009/08/coming-back-to-bloggerland.html
It's not brilliantly exciting, but it serves as a type of letter I suppose. I remember when we used to write to each other more regularly. I miss that, but times change. I still have all your letters though.
Since I wrote on that particular blog post, not alot has changed. Andrew and I are going through a rocky patch at the moment; not entirely confident that we'll work it out, but time will tell.
On the plus side, I still have another week off work so would like to try and do at least something. Any ideas?!
I think my mum is coming to visit me next week. I'll believe it when I see it - it's been three years since she last drove up to Leicester, and vowed never to do it again after getting lost in Birmingham after taking a wrong turning on the motorway!! It took her 6 hours to get from my place to her house in Wales; should have taken 3 hours max!!!
I've just come back from a lovely break in Stratford. Andrew and I stay in a fantastic elizabethan hotel right in the centre, and did the proper tourist thing (which I would normally avoid like the plague). To my suprise, I enjoyed Stratford.
We went rowing on the Avon which was brilliant - haven't done anything like that since I was a kid! We also visited Shakespeare's birthplace home, and a few of his other residencies. Also took some great photos, which while hopefully make an appearance on my photography, prints and design website soon. It's chronically neglected at the moment, and half way though a major redesign, so things are not exactly as the should be. But if you want a look at this work in progress. It's at:
www.fotoflickr.co.uk
I'm laying here in the bed surrounded by my old faithful cats, with the sash windows open; it's so muggy, but this week there's a great musical festival on not far from my house, so with the music sailing in on the wind, I can listen to some pretty good acts live while in bed! I've got a friend from Sweden performing there tomorrow. He called Teitur. Have you heard of him? I might pop along tomorrow or Sunday, when he's on. At last years festival I met Jose Gonzales to name but one, and met up with my great friend and singer-songwriter, kathryn Williams. If you haven't heard if her either, do check her out - she's great.
One thing that hadn't changed is my waffling. So I'll sign off now and wish you and yours all the best. Would be great to hear from you, but no worries if you don't.
One last thing; join me on Twitter!!
www.Twitter.com to sign up and then my username is uselessdesires to find me!
Bye for now, and love, blessings and happiness to you always....
Ryan x
Dear Joe Applesead
(not his real name!!!)!
A personal email for once!
I just thought I'd drop a line to say hi and to just pass on the link to my old, but revamped blog. It's got most of my news on there...
www.uselessdesires.co.uk
But for the last year in a nutshell, go to my yearly summary by going to:
http://uselessdesires.blogspot.com/2009/08/coming-back-to-bloggerland.html
It's not brilliantly exciting, but it serves as a type of letter I suppose. I remember when we used to write to each other more regularly. I miss that, but times change. I still have all your letters though.
Since I wrote on that particular blog post, not alot has changed. Andrew and I are going through a rocky patch at the moment; not entirely confident that we'll work it out, but time will tell.
On the plus side, I still have another week off work so would like to try and do at least something. Any ideas?!
I think my mum is coming to visit me next week. I'll believe it when I see it - it's been three years since she last drove up to Leicester, and vowed never to do it again after getting lost in Birmingham after taking a wrong turning on the motorway!! It took her 6 hours to get from my place to her house in Wales; should have taken 3 hours max!!!
I've just come back from a lovely break in Stratford. Andrew and I stay in a fantastic elizabethan hotel right in the centre, and did the proper tourist thing (which I would normally avoid like the plague). To my suprise, I enjoyed Stratford.
We went rowing on the Avon which was brilliant - haven't done anything like that since I was a kid! We also visited Shakespeare's birthplace home, and a few of his other residencies. Also took some great photos, which while hopefully make an appearance on my photography, prints and design website soon. It's chronically neglected at the moment, and half way though a major redesign, so things are not exactly as the should be. But if you want a look at this work in progress. It's at:
www.fotoflickr.co.uk
I'm laying here in the bed surrounded by my old faithful cats, with the sash windows open; it's so muggy, but this week there's a great musical festival on not far from my house, so with the music sailing in on the wind, I can listen to some pretty good acts live while in bed! I've got a friend from Sweden performing there tomorrow. He called Teitur. Have you heard of him? I might pop along tomorrow or Sunday, when he's on. At last years festival I met Jose Gonzales to name but one, and met up with my great friend and singer-songwriter, kathryn Williams. If you haven't heard if her either, do check her out - she's great.
One thing that hadn't changed is my waffling. So I'll sign off now and wish you and yours all the best. Would be great to hear from you, but no worries if you don't.
One last thing; join me on Twitter!!
www.Twitter.com to sign up and then my username is uselessdesires to find me!
Bye for now, and love, blessings and happiness to you always....
Ryan x
Friday, 14 August 2009
Teitur Live at Summer Sundae, Leicester
Teitur
'The Singer' is the first of Teitur’s albums to be released in the UK. Recorded last October, at a deserted 19th century hotel on the remote, windswept island of Gotland off the coast of Sweden. A place more renowned as the setting where Ingmar Bergman shot all his films, including his iconic picture the ‘Seventh Seal’.
Teitur and his captivating melodies and finely observed lyrics, have earned him fans across the globe such as KT Tunstall, Rufus Wainwright, Aimee Mann and John Mayer.
Last month saw Teitur play a sold out show at Royal Copenhagen Opera House with a 8 piece brass section, a string quartet and a female choir in which one journalist likened him to the ghost of Frank Sinatra.
Teitur will be performing live this Sunday at 6.30pm on the Musician Stage at Leicesters Summer Sundae music festival.
Visit www.summersundae.com for more on the event.
Check out www.teitur.com for his official website
'The Singer' is the first of Teitur’s albums to be released in the UK. Recorded last October, at a deserted 19th century hotel on the remote, windswept island of Gotland off the coast of Sweden. A place more renowned as the setting where Ingmar Bergman shot all his films, including his iconic picture the ‘Seventh Seal’.
Teitur and his captivating melodies and finely observed lyrics, have earned him fans across the globe such as KT Tunstall, Rufus Wainwright, Aimee Mann and John Mayer.
Last month saw Teitur play a sold out show at Royal Copenhagen Opera House with a 8 piece brass section, a string quartet and a female choir in which one journalist likened him to the ghost of Frank Sinatra.
Teitur will be performing live this Sunday at 6.30pm on the Musician Stage at Leicesters Summer Sundae music festival.
Visit www.summersundae.com for more on the event.
Check out www.teitur.com for his official website
Thursday, 13 August 2009
Lay Your Sleeping Head, My Love
A final poem by W. H. Auden:
Lay your sleeping head, my love,
Human on my faithless arm;
Time and fevers burn away
Individual beauty from
Thoughtful children, and the grave
Proves the child ephemeral:
But in my arms till break of day
Let the living creature lie,
Mortal, guilty, but to me
The entirely beautiful.
Soul and body have no bounds:
To lovers as they lie upon
Her tolerant enchanted slope
In their ordinary swoon,
Grave the vision Venus sends
Of supernatural sympathy,
Universal love and hope;
While an abstract insight wakes
Among the glaciers and the rocks
The hermit's sensual ecstasy.
Certainty, fidelity
On the stroke of midnight pass
Like vibrations of a bell,
And fashionable madmen raise
Their pedantic boring cry:
Every farthing of the cost,
All the dreadful cards foretell,
Shall be paid, but not from this night
Not a whisper, not a thought,
Not a kiss nor look be lost.
Beauty, midnight, vision dies:
Let the winds of dawn that blow
Softly round your dreaming head
Such a day of sweetness show
Eye and knocking heart may bless.
Find the mortal world enough;
Noons of dryness see you fed
By the involuntary powers,
Nights of insult let you pass
Watched by every human love.
© W. H. Auden
Lay your sleeping head, my love,
Human on my faithless arm;
Time and fevers burn away
Individual beauty from
Thoughtful children, and the grave
Proves the child ephemeral:
But in my arms till break of day
Let the living creature lie,
Mortal, guilty, but to me
The entirely beautiful.
Soul and body have no bounds:
To lovers as they lie upon
Her tolerant enchanted slope
In their ordinary swoon,
Grave the vision Venus sends
Of supernatural sympathy,
Universal love and hope;
While an abstract insight wakes
Among the glaciers and the rocks
The hermit's sensual ecstasy.
Certainty, fidelity
On the stroke of midnight pass
Like vibrations of a bell,
And fashionable madmen raise
Their pedantic boring cry:
Every farthing of the cost,
All the dreadful cards foretell,
Shall be paid, but not from this night
Not a whisper, not a thought,
Not a kiss nor look be lost.
Beauty, midnight, vision dies:
Let the winds of dawn that blow
Softly round your dreaming head
Such a day of sweetness show
Eye and knocking heart may bless.
Find the mortal world enough;
Noons of dryness see you fed
By the involuntary powers,
Nights of insult let you pass
Watched by every human love.
© W. H. Auden
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone...
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
© W. H. Auden
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
© W. H. Auden
The Mother-in-Law
I hate my inlaws...
I must personally admit,
without regret that I sincerely hate my mother in law,
To be so mean without a cause as hateful words stream through that lantern jaw,
Is something completely foreign to me, for I am faithfully loving, and oh-so giving,
Unlike my mean mother in law who exhibits only contempt for the living.
At times I marvel at how nasty my mother in law can be,
And how she funnels that negative energy only onto me,
For it appears that I'm not at the top of her favorite list,
Rather on her shit-list that's lodged within her hairy fist.
But that's really okay with me,
for I will nevermore repine,
For within my heart I know,
she wouldn't waste on me her rancid time.
Her mood is quite foul,
her temperament raw,
For she hates me,
and likewise,
I hate my mother in law.
I must personally admit,
without regret that I sincerely hate my mother in law,
To be so mean without a cause as hateful words stream through that lantern jaw,
Is something completely foreign to me, for I am faithfully loving, and oh-so giving,
Unlike my mean mother in law who exhibits only contempt for the living.
At times I marvel at how nasty my mother in law can be,
And how she funnels that negative energy only onto me,
For it appears that I'm not at the top of her favorite list,
Rather on her shit-list that's lodged within her hairy fist.
But that's really okay with me,
for I will nevermore repine,
For within my heart I know,
she wouldn't waste on me her rancid time.
Her mood is quite foul,
her temperament raw,
For she hates me,
and likewise,
I hate my mother in law.
Fellowship of the Unashamed
I am part of the fellowship of the unashamed.
The die has been cast.
I have stepped over the line.
The decision has been made.
I won't look back, let up, slow down,
back away, or be still.
My past is redeemed,
my present makes sense,
and my future is secure.
I am finished and done with low living, sight walking, small planning,
smooth knees, colorless dreams,
tight giving, and crumpled goals.
I no longer need pre-eminence, prosperity, position,promotions,
plaudits, or popularity.
I now live by presence, learn by faith, love by patience, lift by prayer,
and labour by power.
My pace is set, my gait is fast,
my goal is set, my road is narrow,
my way is rough, my companions few, my guide reliable, my mission clear.
I cannot be bought, compromised, deterred, lured away, turned back, diluted, or delayed.
I will not flinch in the face of sacrifice, hesitate in the presence of adversity, negotiate at the table of the enemy,
ponder at the pool of popularity, or meander in the maze of mediocrity.
I must give until I drop,
Preach until you listen,
and work until you notice.
And when you come to find me,
You will have no problem recognising me.
My colors will be clear.
For I am part of the fellowship of the unashamed.
The die has been cast.
I have stepped over the line.
The decision has been made.
I won't look back, let up, slow down,
back away, or be still.
My past is redeemed,
my present makes sense,
and my future is secure.
I am finished and done with low living, sight walking, small planning,
smooth knees, colorless dreams,
tight giving, and crumpled goals.
I no longer need pre-eminence, prosperity, position,promotions,
plaudits, or popularity.
I now live by presence, learn by faith, love by patience, lift by prayer,
and labour by power.
My pace is set, my gait is fast,
my goal is set, my road is narrow,
my way is rough, my companions few, my guide reliable, my mission clear.
I cannot be bought, compromised, deterred, lured away, turned back, diluted, or delayed.
I will not flinch in the face of sacrifice, hesitate in the presence of adversity, negotiate at the table of the enemy,
ponder at the pool of popularity, or meander in the maze of mediocrity.
I must give until I drop,
Preach until you listen,
and work until you notice.
And when you come to find me,
You will have no problem recognising me.
My colors will be clear.
For I am part of the fellowship of the unashamed.
Wednesday, 12 August 2009
I Am The Mainframe
The following intensity was kindly submitted by my good friend Fayann Smith, the powerhouse behind K-Tron, and the loin-fruit of my house-mate and soul-sister, Dee...
I AM THE MAINFRAME
I am the Network;
I am more than a billion minds converged at once,
in starburst brilliance,
information realised.
I witness everything in high definition,
super sharp satellite vision.
I see all.
My thoughts instantaneously animate plasma screen fictions across the universe in hyperreal colour.
My dreams stream in real time,
translated into a thousand languages,
beamed live to the collective unconsciousness in characters bolder than billboard and illustrated in lazer beam drawn across the sky itself.
My emotion could blow the grid in Mexico City;
my heartbeat is sponsored by accurist.
This new body is incorruptible;
this new body was built not born.
I exist in a state of perpetual anaesthesia,
I feel no pain and I will never know disease – this flesh is beyond the whim of nature or simple evolution.
My face is the perfect product,
a logotype for the ultimate human form,
a testament to the new beauty,
symmetrical, profound and sublime.
Through bold mathematics I became the icon,
and through chemistry I become the demi-god,
never aging,
a composite ideal hermetically preserved.
When I travel I move at beyond light speed and I can bend time to invoke all potentialities;
I exist simultaneously in every dimension,
a sub atomic voyeur,
tripping through quarks and super strings.
I cum in binary,
hooked up to the divine switch,
shaking my titanium bones with primal intensity.
I understand the secrets encoded in the first moments of reality and I can feel infinity arch magnificent into the cosmos.
I look just like you,
but you won’t recognise me,
I look just like you,
but I’m different inside.
I’m still on the factory floor in Hong Kong,
I’m still waiting to meet you.
You don’t know me yet,
but you will,
I am coded in your DNA,
I awoke with the Aztecs,
Opened my eyes on the Roman road to conquest,
began to dream with the renaissance.
I am your future,
rebooted,
eternal self.
Fayann Smith 2009.
All rights remain the intellectual property of the author. Unauthorised copying in whole or part is strictly prohibited.
Visit LikeDisneyland for more on Smith/Lake creations.
'I am the Mainframe' was recited live by the author at the Southbank Centre, London, as part of the London Literary Festival - an Arts Council for England event.
Here are a couple of photos of that recital, courtesy of photographer, Alana Lake...
I AM THE MAINFRAME
I am the Network;
I am more than a billion minds converged at once,
in starburst brilliance,
information realised.
I witness everything in high definition,
super sharp satellite vision.
I see all.
My thoughts instantaneously animate plasma screen fictions across the universe in hyperreal colour.
My dreams stream in real time,
translated into a thousand languages,
beamed live to the collective unconsciousness in characters bolder than billboard and illustrated in lazer beam drawn across the sky itself.
My emotion could blow the grid in Mexico City;
my heartbeat is sponsored by accurist.
This new body is incorruptible;
this new body was built not born.
I exist in a state of perpetual anaesthesia,
I feel no pain and I will never know disease – this flesh is beyond the whim of nature or simple evolution.
My face is the perfect product,
a logotype for the ultimate human form,
a testament to the new beauty,
symmetrical, profound and sublime.
Through bold mathematics I became the icon,
and through chemistry I become the demi-god,
never aging,
a composite ideal hermetically preserved.
When I travel I move at beyond light speed and I can bend time to invoke all potentialities;
I exist simultaneously in every dimension,
a sub atomic voyeur,
tripping through quarks and super strings.
I cum in binary,
hooked up to the divine switch,
shaking my titanium bones with primal intensity.
I understand the secrets encoded in the first moments of reality and I can feel infinity arch magnificent into the cosmos.
I look just like you,
but you won’t recognise me,
I look just like you,
but I’m different inside.
I’m still on the factory floor in Hong Kong,
I’m still waiting to meet you.
You don’t know me yet,
but you will,
I am coded in your DNA,
I awoke with the Aztecs,
Opened my eyes on the Roman road to conquest,
began to dream with the renaissance.
I am your future,
rebooted,
eternal self.
Fayann Smith 2009.
All rights remain the intellectual property of the author. Unauthorised copying in whole or part is strictly prohibited.
Visit LikeDisneyland for more on Smith/Lake creations.
'I am the Mainframe' was recited live by the author at the Southbank Centre, London, as part of the London Literary Festival - an Arts Council for England event.
Here are a couple of photos of that recital, courtesy of photographer, Alana Lake...
Anniversary Dinner
Tantilising food and company at Barcenoleta, Spanish Restaurant - to celebrate our Anniversary.
Anyway, best put this down, as my nearest and dearest is sitting opposite me. I'm rude I know, but all he's done so far is people watch and complain about the 'annoying twat' on the next table, and exclaiming 'the things you see when you haven't got a gun' - and saying how much he dislikes the lampshades and how much more bread other diners have.... Sheesh.
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Anyway, best put this down, as my nearest and dearest is sitting opposite me. I'm rude I know, but all he's done so far is people watch and complain about the 'annoying twat' on the next table, and exclaiming 'the things you see when you haven't got a gun' - and saying how much he dislikes the lampshades and how much more bread other diners have.... Sheesh.
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New Blog Address!
It's official! The old faithful blog has a new & easy address!
From now on you can get straight to my blog by visiting:
www.uselessdesires.co.uk
You can still read this lovely bloggy on the old address of uselessdesires.blogspot.com - they will both stay 'live.'
It would be great if you stopped by and commented on any articles posted. It would also be wonderful if you wanted to add to the blog by submitting your own material.
Even better, please link to me! If you link to my blog, I'll put a link on the right to your blog or site. I'll even consider linking your Facebook page or Twitter profile.
Anyway, must stop for now - my bed is demanding I revisit it. Besides, the cat likes the company...
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From now on you can get straight to my blog by visiting:
www.uselessdesires.co.uk
You can still read this lovely bloggy on the old address of uselessdesires.blogspot.com - they will both stay 'live.'
It would be great if you stopped by and commented on any articles posted. It would also be wonderful if you wanted to add to the blog by submitting your own material.
Even better, please link to me! If you link to my blog, I'll put a link on the right to your blog or site. I'll even consider linking your Facebook page or Twitter profile.
Anyway, must stop for now - my bed is demanding I revisit it. Besides, the cat likes the company...
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Tuesday, 11 August 2009
Coming soon!
Very soon, my blog will be at the new address of...
www.uselessdesires.co.uk
It just might take up-to 28 hours max for the new address to take effect, You can still read this lovely bloggy on the usual address of www.uselessdesires.blogspot.com - oh! you are...
sorry for the bother!
Stay tuned for the launch (how OTT)
www.uselessdesires.co.uk
It just might take up-to 28 hours max for the new address to take effect, You can still read this lovely bloggy on the usual address of www.uselessdesires.blogspot.com - oh! you are...
sorry for the bother!
Stay tuned for the launch (how OTT)
Our Anniversary!
I almost forgot!
It's our anniversary tomorrow. Andrew has presented me with an invitation for a evening at one of my favourites restaurants tomorrow, and as I blog this, he's cooking dinner downstairs!
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Flo photos and new hair for Ryan
A random post. We've been back in Leicester since having a great time staying Stratford. So far we haven't done a thing, but here's a few photos of Flo having a rest...
And finally, here's my new, um, hair...
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And finally, here's my new, um, hair...
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Join me on Twitter
It would be great if all my Facebook friends joined Twitter. Pleeeese?! I'll even offer tech support!
Just go to www.twitter.com or click the logo above or below to sign up. There's also a link on the right of this screen to Twitter.
My twitter screen-name is uselessdesires - find me by that username and start following me... Just give it a go.
You can even do as I do and link Twitter with Facebook, so your Facebook status imports your Twitter tweets!
Go on, give it a go...!
Go to www.twitter.com... Click the bluebird NOW!
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Monday, 10 August 2009
Back in Leicester
We're back in Leicester, it's raining but peaceful and quiet. And Freddie, our neighbours cat was waiting for us by the kitchen door...!
He had some biscuits, winked at Flo, and trotted off again. I'm off to do some housework, have a bath, change the bed-linin and have an early night with a G&T...
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He had some biscuits, winked at Flo, and trotted off again. I'm off to do some housework, have a bath, change the bed-linin and have an early night with a G&T...
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Rowing & Fish
A few photos of us messing about on the river Avon, went to see Shakespeares house and birth-place and now having calamari. Andrew is having patè pollo...
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Last Day in Stratford
It's our last day in Stratford and we're sitting in the Anne Hathway tearoom having breakfast before bracing the day and possibly messing about on the river. It's raining but who cares...
A couple of photos already...
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A couple of photos already...
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Sunday, 9 August 2009
Stratford Post by Andrew Hodges
Tits.
That got your attention. Today we have had bacon sandwiches. But that was not all!
After arriving in Stratford we had lunch, beer, gin and tonic (lots), a river cruise, went to evensong with a dishy vicar, had a french meal, had an icecream, went walking around town and bought cosmetics.
All my love,
Andrew. X x x
PS. Here are some pictures Ryan took today...
PPS. THIS POST IS NOT ENDORSED OR WRITTEN BY RYAN, THE OWNER-EDITOR OF THIS BLOG (Ed.)
PPPS. The pictures....
That got your attention. Today we have had bacon sandwiches. But that was not all!
After arriving in Stratford we had lunch, beer, gin and tonic (lots), a river cruise, went to evensong with a dishy vicar, had a french meal, had an icecream, went walking around town and bought cosmetics.
All my love,
Andrew. X x x
PS. Here are some pictures Ryan took today...
PPS. THIS POST IS NOT ENDORSED OR WRITTEN BY RYAN, THE OWNER-EDITOR OF THIS BLOG (Ed.)
PPPS. The pictures....
Saturday, 8 August 2009
Sharing my posts and a little update
You can now share anything you read on this humble little blog by emailing a link to the story or article to anyone you know. I've added a little widget to the end of each post - it looks like a tiny envelope (see below this post, for example) - just click it and away you go!
Also, if you post any comments, you can also do this for any post you choose. And I hope you do comment!
The comments link is an orange number (maybe even a '0' for no comments!) at the top of each post in the full blog. But if you click the article title (always orange), that takes you to the full article. There's a 'post a comment' link at the bottom. That's orange too... Clear?! Good!
Anyway. I've had a terribly sleepless night, so even though it's now 1.30pm, I'm going to have 40 winks and examine the inside of my eyelids.
Lovely Andrew suprised me yesterday by booking a top hotel in Stratford. We leave in the morning, and although beauty sleep is somewhat of a wasted exercise on me, I at least need to rest.
Bye for now....
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Also, if you post any comments, you can also do this for any post you choose. And I hope you do comment!
The comments link is an orange number (maybe even a '0' for no comments!) at the top of each post in the full blog. But if you click the article title (always orange), that takes you to the full article. There's a 'post a comment' link at the bottom. That's orange too... Clear?! Good!
Anyway. I've had a terribly sleepless night, so even though it's now 1.30pm, I'm going to have 40 winks and examine the inside of my eyelids.
Lovely Andrew suprised me yesterday by booking a top hotel in Stratford. We leave in the morning, and although beauty sleep is somewhat of a wasted exercise on me, I at least need to rest.
Bye for now....
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Walking & Horses
Here are some photos of a walk we took today near Alestone lock, near Leicester. We met some great horses, although I'm not sure Andrew was too keen, but he does take a great photo...
That's it...
That's it...
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