Bad Romance - Lady Gaga

Don't ask why, okay. Just...don't.

Okay, ya got me. There is one reason I like this song.

Roma Ro-ma-ma
Gaga, ooh la la

and that's it!

She's not the best singer, even given her Streisand-esque features. Her design sense seems to based on cut out shapes stuck together by 3-year-olds in nursery. However, she's not afraid to experiment, which is a quality I admire.

The quoted lyric would probably sound totally daft sung by anyone else, but to be honest in the current pop landscape it feels kind of Bowie-ish. She's pushing tastes out to the leftfield whilst still making it sound pop.

Musically, the track seems to have been constructed by grabbing a few genres out of a bucket and sticking them in the washing machine and doing a fast spin.

Special mention also has to go to her collaboration with Beyonce. I saw it on the telly and there was something about it, i'm not sure what, that just kept me glued to the screen. See it here!


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Now playing: MGMT - Weekend Wars
via FoxyTunes

Episode 11

The sunlight crept slowly through a gap in they heavy curtains and into Shannon Grady's bedroom.

The sun never usually got her attention this early in the morning, especially on Sundays when she tried to wake up as late as possible.

This morning was different. Her excitement at what had happened last night was still running through her system. She smiled as she snuggled deeper into her pillow, her red curls splayed out, watching the shadows slowly inch across her room.

It had been another late night at her friend, Izzy's house. She and her Church youth group often met up on Saturday nights and went out bowling or to the cinema. Sometimes, as happened, some people brought a friend along who wasn't a Christian.

This was a bit of status symbol amongst her peers. To be friends with someone outside the church was seen as bit edgy. VERY Christ-like! Not like the adults who seemed to frown on contact with other people who didn't share their faith, unless you were trying to convert them.

The guy who came along last night was with another of her friends, Alesha, his name was Callum. He'd asked her out a few weeks earlier during college, following one of the lessons they shared together. There had been much discussion about what she should do, both over the phone and at that week's bible study. In the end she'd said yes on the condition that they 'dated' during the saturday outings with the rest of the group.

Shannon had suggested this, so she felt especially proud and full credit to the guy, he must have really liked Alesha because he did it!

Over the weeks he started coming to the youth group and also to the Sunday Services. Some of the group thought he was just doing it to spend more time with Alesha outside of college, as she still wouldn't go on a 'regular' date. Shannon, however, felt she was a good judge of character and had noticed that his attention was not always on his would-be girlfriend. He seemed to be listening to what was spoken about and also joined in the questioning at the bible study.

Last night it all came out though, as everyone was heading home from a night at the bowling alley. He had been dropped off at the centre by his Dad and after calling home to let them know he was done, he ended the call looking lost and upset. He had already waved goodbye to Alesha and soon it was just Shannon and Izzy left. They were about to head home too, but on saying goodbye Shannon noticed that Callum looked as if he was about to burst into tears. They made their way to Izzy's car but Shannon felt a niggling thought inside her.

She mentioned to Izzy that she thought something was up with Callum. They both stopped by the car and after a quick exchange of words decided they should probably go back in just to make sure he was fine.

As they went back in the place was still busy but Callum wasn't there. They looked around, but no luck. as they were about to head off again Izzy saw him come out of the loo's ahead of them. Catching up to him they tapped him on the shoulder, making him turn and jump.

Immediately, the girls could see that his eyes were raw from crying. Embarrassed, He tried to say a quick goodbye and head out of the door. Shannon and Izzy stayed with him not willing to let him escape now that they knew something was up.

He didn't resist. He wanted to tell someone what was happening. They went and sat in a sheltered corner just outside the brightly lit entrance, giving them a vague sense of privacy. Callum faltered at first, not sure how to start his tale and also how these girls would react to him. Shannon reassured him that this conversation would remain confidential, even from Alesha, if that's what he wanted.

His eyes glistened as fresh tears threatened to flow again and his voice cracked in a few places as he explained some of the problems that had been going on at home. Basically his parent's marriage had been breaking down for a while. Each week brought a fresh row between his Mum and Dad, sometimes in front of him, but always within earshot. He didn't know why they were always fighting as they had never talked to him about it.

He'd tried to find out from them, but they were evasive and never willing to reveal the details. It had never gotten violent, but it often descended into a viscious war of words, insults and accusations.

Callum guessed his Dad had been having an affair and then his Mum had had one too as revenge. When he'd called for his Dad to pick him up his aunt had answered the phone and said his Dad had left, taking the car with him. She was there consoling his Mum. Callum had said he'd make his own way home.

Shannon and Izzy shed a few a sympathetic tears as he relayed his story. A silence fell between them at the end and Izzy, being the more impulsive and emotional of the two girls broke the moment by throwing her arms around Callum, giving him a short, but comforting, hug, that spoke more than words could have right then. Shannon, felt slightly more uncomfortable with it, but did the same as she didn't know what to say either.

Izzy then offered to take Callum home. Even though they all knew it would take him about an hour or more to walk home, at first he said, no. He explained it was because he knew how their parent's would probably feel knowing they were more or less alone with a boy. Shannon rubbished his reasoning, saying that there were two of them so it was totally acceptable. Nothing, untoward could happen if they were both looking out for each other. With relief, he accepted the offer and they headed back to Izzy's car.

In the car Callum continued talking as if a weight had been released from him. He talked about his family situation and how he enjoyed hanging out with Alesha and her friends as they all seemed to have great parents and no problems. The girls were embarrassed by his observations as they thought about some of the selfish arguments they sometimes had with their parents. They seemed to pale into insignificance compared to what was going on in Callum's life.

Upon reaching his house it became quite clear that he didn't really want to go in. The girls were unsure what to do. Shannon, coming straight to the point as ever, asked him what was up. He said that his Mum was probably going to be really upset and he was just angry with both his Mum and his Dad. Shannon was surprised when Izzy volunteered that they go back to her house to give him a breather.

Callum accepted, a big smile now covering his face. It was the best news he'd heard all evening.


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Now playing: Luther Allison - The Thrill Is Gone
via FoxyTunes

Good enough?

The shimmering illusion of borrowed dreams
A goal beyond most people's means
Striving to be the epitome of another's ideal
To show them I'm committed, to prove my love is real
Why then do I have to be someone else,
And how much am I doing it for myself?
Does it matter, if it benefits all?
Am I just setting myself up for a fall?
Is it selfish of me to want to clear up my mess,
When my presence affects others happiness?
Well meaning though my intentions are
If I'm absent, would they be better off by far?
Ambitions for the future that aren't my own
But will guarantee my place in what I call home
Burn them onto my mind, erase all thoughts of me
Can I do that? Is that something I could be?
I try and I fail, Try again and succeed
My own Sisyphus' rock, but do I want to be freed?
So many questions as I question each motive
How much longer, how much more do I have to give?
Don't get me wrong, if I could change I would
It's just I keep wondering if I'm doing any good.


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Now playing: Theaudience - I Never Have Been Done
via FoxyTunes

Truths No.7

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Now playing: Wynona - Girls With Guitars
via FoxyTunes

The Beach Boys - God Only Knows

Another classic song for the brokenhearted.

I guess, initially, its meant as a love song where you declare your undying love for someone.

It was for me.

Now though, the meaning has been flipped on its head and its a song about what has been lost rather than the strength of something you might have had.

I hate being morose about all this stuff but its better dealt with than festering inside and I'm sure one day I'll find the joy in things once more.

(please!!!)


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Now playing: Moby - Go [In Dub Mix]
via FoxyTunes

Episode 10

Thomas was trying to relax.

Jamal had given him a single room at the top of the hotel. The street lamps outside were level with his window and filled the tiny little room, as if the sun itself was peering in, preventing him from going straight to sleep. He was certainly exhausted enough.

There was barely enough room to fit the bed in the limited space available. His frame didn't quite fit it and he had to scrunch his body up to get comfortable. A slimline wardrobe was awkwardly squeezed in at the foot of the bed limiting access to the en-suite shower by trapping the door behind it. He was glad he wasn't as big as Jimmy. He'd never get through. The smile faded quickly.

Every time he closed his eyes they filled up with visions from earlier in the evening. He'd come back to the flat he'd shared with his mate Jimmy. He had been away for a few days because of the Brentford Asylum business. As he had entered, closing the door behind him, the atmosphere had been stifling. There was a horrible smell in the air which he couldn't quite place.

The panic set in as he went into the living room. They had worked out a system to let the other know if everything was okay. If Jimmy was fine then it would be on the shelf above the economy heater. It wasn't. If Jimmy had left the house voluntarily he would have had time to put the sacred Madonna figurine on the shelf. They'd agreed on this as they both suffered from paranoia and this eased the worry in case anything happened. The figurine itself was Jimmy's idea of a joke.

Thomas could see into the kitchen as he had come into the flat. The only other place to look was the bathroom.

The lifeless face of his friend would haunt him forever. He was positioned around the base of the toilet. Not the nicest place to be at the best of times in their low rent flat, but it made the scene look even more grim as vomit surrounded the loo. There was a syringe close to hand, its contents look spent.

He saw what had happened straight away. They had tried to make his friend's death look like an overdose. They were onto him. He hoped Jimmy hadn't told them anything about him. No doubt the flat was being watched. It was time to run again.

-------

Thomas woke up. This surprised him as he couldn't remember going to sleep. Even more surprising was the sense of peace and calm that he had. A dream was fading from his mind. He tried to catch it, but all he could sense was a pair of hands held out in comfort, now slipping back into the dream world.

He lay there trying to recapture the feeling, but all too soon the problems of reality crept back in and the edge returned to his existence.

Breakfast was buried in a room which was probably the servants quarters or kitchen in times past. All feeling of character had been wiped out by cost-efficient redecorating. Any sense of history lost to the subsequent owners who continued the new tradition of modern, functional refitting that had reduced these once grand townhouses to nothing more than was required by minimum health and safety regulation. On a good day.

There was a full english breakfast laid out as a buffet. The rubberised scrambled egg didn't look very appealing. The thought of eating sausages that weren't advertised as meat also put him off. The sauce on the baked beans looked too thick and was only a pale imitation of orange. This left him with a selection of overcooked bacon, the random choice of whether the fried eggs would be runny or just soft and the inevitability of the peeled plum tomatoes to give the ensemble a strong disguising flavour should the bacon or egg not taste as they should.

He sat in one of the many corners of this warren-like breakfast room. The table was at a normal height for the average person but Thomas kept knocking his knees on the already wobbly table. On his way over he had grabbed a glass of juice, except he now realised it was just orange squash. He took a sip to greet the day. Weak orange squash.

He was just about to work through the contents of his plate when a girl wandered over and spoke in a thick east european accent. "Coffee? Toast?"

"No coffee please, but I would like some toast, thanks." he replied. He was a coffee snob and he doubted they had his brand here and there's nothing worse than bad coffee. Good coffee was just about bearable, it had its uses. He had sworn off coffee for so long because of human rghts abuses of the workers, but just because now most of it was Fair Trade didn't make it worth drinking. Besides, he was sure that coffee would one day go the way of cigarettes. Toast on the other hand was pretty reliable. No matter where he'd been in the world you couldn't really go wrong with toast in the morning, where it had been available, so long as it had a good helping of...

"Butter?" the girl asked.

"Definitely. Yes please." With the thought of the toast already melting in his mouth he tucked into, what he later decided was, a rather bland breakfast after all.

He made his way up the stairwell, back to his room, having had his fill. As he approached the door his senses started to tingle. He was getting a bad feeling, something was not right. He stood where he was, not wanting to make another sound. Everything was becoming hyper-real.

He scanned the landing around him, but found nothing obviously out of place. He was on edge and as he stared intently at the door to his room it seemed to be jumping out at him, screaming for him to go away before it was too late.

Fear gripped him and made him unable to take another step forward as if a brick wall had suddenly been erected. Above him a door slammed. His body needed no conscious command. Stumbling backwards, he turned as he ran down the stairs towards the reception and out the door, throwing his key at the desk on his way. He had to leave London. Now.



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Now playing: The Sundays - Blood on My Hands
via FoxyTunes

Let it take you

Let the ride take you
Let the wind blow you
Let the world lift you on their shoulders
See where you go

What is there to fear?
When there's no further to fall
So go with the flow
It's the only way you'll know



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Now playing: Moby - Feeling So Real [Old Skool Mix]
via FoxyTunes