The reason this post is off topic is because I had nowhere else to put it.
So Time Travel, plaguing Science Fiction for years. Recently Back To The Future was on the television and it got me thinking about the concept of time travel. I've recently had queries about this in terms of the Terminator series.
I'm starting to believe there is no such thing as Time Travel. My reasons are as follows:
In Back To The Future Part 1 - When Marty arrives back in Present time most things have changed around him, the name of the mall and most importantly his parent's life. Obviously they don't know any different and that's the way it's been for them but wouldn't Marty's life and up bringing been different? Wouldn't He also have changed. Think about it, Marty HAS changed the past thus changing his own future. Also The Docs, who now lives.
Monday 30 January 2012
Thursday 19 January 2012
A Night Cut Short.
This one is going to be short.
So I'm meeting with friends and the night starts off well. We're laughing and joking and the drinks are a flowing. So we decide to move on and go to a bar in Burnley where one of our friends fathers is playing. Everything is going well. I eventually go to the bathroom for a wee. I'm standing at the urinal doing my business and all of a sudden my sphincter twitches and all of a sudden I'm clenching to keep this demon from coming out. I can't use public toilets for a shit, there's something not right with it. Anyway I hold this shit in for nearly one hour and a half before I can let it go in the safety of my own home. I would have seriously shit myself if I'd let it go.
So I'm meeting with friends and the night starts off well. We're laughing and joking and the drinks are a flowing. So we decide to move on and go to a bar in Burnley where one of our friends fathers is playing. Everything is going well. I eventually go to the bathroom for a wee. I'm standing at the urinal doing my business and all of a sudden my sphincter twitches and all of a sudden I'm clenching to keep this demon from coming out. I can't use public toilets for a shit, there's something not right with it. Anyway I hold this shit in for nearly one hour and a half before I can let it go in the safety of my own home. I would have seriously shit myself if I'd let it go.
A Teenage Boy Should Never Cry.
Old enough to want to drink but not old enough to actually drink. Several drinks and shots later I balance myself to the one girl, who at this moment in my life broke my heart. I can tell you now it didn't take long to get over her. So I'm balancing, balancing, making my way through her friends, they're laughing but that comes to a sudden halt when they see me. There she stands and I say 'Can we have that talk now?'
Flashback to when I was sober.
I'm getting ready to go out with friends at a bar where everyone knows your name. Anyway, so I'm telling myself, 'Just tell her. The movies always do that. Just tell her how you feel.' This in mind when I see her first, I ask if I can talk to her later. She obliges and I carry on with my night, obviously petrified because I'm now downing shot after shot of alcohol. You already know where this is going.
Flashback a week, over instant messaging.
I'm chatting to a different girl, a girl I'd recently met. I tell her my whole plan. How I'm going to tell this other girl how I feel and basically try to win her back American Teen Film style.
Flash forward to seriously drunk stage.
We're out side, Me and the girl who broke my heart, it's summer because I'm wearing an open shirt, there is a breeze too but it's warm. It's nice. So we stand there and I'm slurring random shit and probably spit into this girls face. She says she doesn't understand what I'm trying to say. So I simply say 'I still like you. I'm finding it hard to get through this. I thought I could handle this. I don't just want to stay friends. I want more.' Start the tears! So I begin crying. 'I think I love you *****.' With disgust on her face she walks away from me. This is not a sad moment for me, I do not need pets on the head and cuddles, I'd honestly be worst if someone did this to me. So I'm left crying. Sobbing into my long locks. All alone.
At this point I'd like to add the sentence 'I think I love you.' should never ever be used, for anything!
From the corner bursts the girl I'd been talking to online. She holds her arms out for a hug. I take the hug and cry into her bosom. It got better pretty quickly. She asks what happened. So we go and sit down. I suddenly need a pee, so I'm stood against a building getting it wet. Toilet time over with I go and sit next to this girl. I tell her the whole incident. I've stopped crying at this point. I tell her how I burst out crying etc. So I'm looking at this pretty girl and I simply say 'Kiss me.' She replies 'What?' we realise it's not like the movies at this point. So I repeat 'Just kiss me.' We look at each other and simply start making out. To our realisation some of our friends have come to find us and found us. Told you it wouldn't take long to get over her.
That night I got punched and kicked in the head off a stranger, so karma got me back ladies.
This is what I looked like after I was punched and kicked. The long hair made me look handsome ok!
Flashback to when I was sober.
I'm getting ready to go out with friends at a bar where everyone knows your name. Anyway, so I'm telling myself, 'Just tell her. The movies always do that. Just tell her how you feel.' This in mind when I see her first, I ask if I can talk to her later. She obliges and I carry on with my night, obviously petrified because I'm now downing shot after shot of alcohol. You already know where this is going.
Flashback a week, over instant messaging.
I'm chatting to a different girl, a girl I'd recently met. I tell her my whole plan. How I'm going to tell this other girl how I feel and basically try to win her back American Teen Film style.
Flash forward to seriously drunk stage.
We're out side, Me and the girl who broke my heart, it's summer because I'm wearing an open shirt, there is a breeze too but it's warm. It's nice. So we stand there and I'm slurring random shit and probably spit into this girls face. She says she doesn't understand what I'm trying to say. So I simply say 'I still like you. I'm finding it hard to get through this. I thought I could handle this. I don't just want to stay friends. I want more.' Start the tears! So I begin crying. 'I think I love you *****.' With disgust on her face she walks away from me. This is not a sad moment for me, I do not need pets on the head and cuddles, I'd honestly be worst if someone did this to me. So I'm left crying. Sobbing into my long locks. All alone.
At this point I'd like to add the sentence 'I think I love you.' should never ever be used, for anything!
From the corner bursts the girl I'd been talking to online. She holds her arms out for a hug. I take the hug and cry into her bosom. It got better pretty quickly. She asks what happened. So we go and sit down. I suddenly need a pee, so I'm stood against a building getting it wet. Toilet time over with I go and sit next to this girl. I tell her the whole incident. I've stopped crying at this point. I tell her how I burst out crying etc. So I'm looking at this pretty girl and I simply say 'Kiss me.' She replies 'What?' we realise it's not like the movies at this point. So I repeat 'Just kiss me.' We look at each other and simply start making out. To our realisation some of our friends have come to find us and found us. Told you it wouldn't take long to get over her.
That night I got punched and kicked in the head off a stranger, so karma got me back ladies.
This is what I looked like after I was punched and kicked. The long hair made me look handsome ok!
Tuesday 10 January 2012
Three Blogs And No Life
This is the third blog I've started. I'm thinking this, the blogs I mean, is away to justify my existence. I've got a blog for my poetry, which can be linked here: http://arranlee.blogspot.com/
Another for the story of how I'm gradually trying to break into the world of films. Another sort of memoir self help kind of blog to help other film makers but it also documents my experiences.
Linked here: http://takingthoughtsandmakingfilms.blogspot.com/
And then there is this one, which I've decided to set up because I'm in a fowl mood and need to vent. A blog of all my failures past (If I can remember them) and present. So where do I start?
Flashback to the third year of primary school.
I'm panting heavy, the cool breeze in my hair, I was playing tig with my friends but now it's a game of life and death. Flashback to the first year, I've just started school and things are going great. At first they were not, my mother left me in the playground, has I watched groups of children being crammed into a small set of double doors and I'm wondering where they lead too. She let go of my hand. I'm crying. I'm all of a sudden playing the mechanic and the god damn wooden washing machine is broken well that's what the mother and father of today think. I fix the damn thing but I know our futures are intwined somehow, me and the wooden washing machine I mean. Anyway, Mother and Father of today are telling the Children of today off and I've got nothing else to fix in this wooden made estate. I look across at the Sister of today. I learn her name is Tanya. I say 'You wanna get outta her dol?' Well something like that, so I put down my plastic tool box and venture to the putty table with Tanya. There's no doubt she's going to try and make a cake.
Flash forward to the third year of primary school.
So I'm panting, taking in deep breaths as I run. I can't see them. There's two, I can feel they're close but where? Then suddenly they strike one on either side of my cheek. The cool breeze catches the wet of the lip marks making my cheeks cold. Tanya and Laura both say 'Kiss-ie Cat' Damn them and their putrid kisses. Everyone knows girls are riddled with Coodies. I've got to admit this was in my prime, I had two of them. I sit in the class room and we're learning English. We've got to write the sentences on the chalk board so I do, 'The Mint do got kno when all his brodders have gom.' Clear as day in my book. A shadow makes it's way up my English book and looms over me. I turn to find the teacher reading my sentence.
Flash forward a couple of Days.
I sit in a chair looking at a brightly lit screen squinting with a pair of ridicules glasses on. The optician tells my mother I'll defiantly need glasses. Already I can see...well feel my life slipping away from me. I knew it said Caterpillar and not Mint on the chalkboard. Damn you eyes!
I've lost Tanya, think it's the new glasses. Laura is still interested, Kiss-ie Cat and all that. Then I'm introduced to one of the children my mother looks after before and after school. She's ok but comes infested with head lice. It's unavoidable to dodge them and soon my thick beautiful hair is littering the barbers floor along with my tears, oh how I cried and oh how I grasped for mummy. Squirming and sobbing has the barber's shaver hummed through my hair.
Flash Forward to next day.
I'm stood in the play ground and the cold breeze bounces off my near to bold head. I'm freezing and Laura isn't even playing Kiss-ie Chase with me. No one is really playing with me then the girl who gave me knits comes up to me and runs her hand across my head, front to back, whilst saying 'Spikey'.
Another for the story of how I'm gradually trying to break into the world of films. Another sort of memoir self help kind of blog to help other film makers but it also documents my experiences.
Linked here: http://takingthoughtsandmakingfilms.blogspot.com/
And then there is this one, which I've decided to set up because I'm in a fowl mood and need to vent. A blog of all my failures past (If I can remember them) and present. So where do I start?
Flashback to the third year of primary school.
I'm panting heavy, the cool breeze in my hair, I was playing tig with my friends but now it's a game of life and death. Flashback to the first year, I've just started school and things are going great. At first they were not, my mother left me in the playground, has I watched groups of children being crammed into a small set of double doors and I'm wondering where they lead too. She let go of my hand. I'm crying. I'm all of a sudden playing the mechanic and the god damn wooden washing machine is broken well that's what the mother and father of today think. I fix the damn thing but I know our futures are intwined somehow, me and the wooden washing machine I mean. Anyway, Mother and Father of today are telling the Children of today off and I've got nothing else to fix in this wooden made estate. I look across at the Sister of today. I learn her name is Tanya. I say 'You wanna get outta her dol?' Well something like that, so I put down my plastic tool box and venture to the putty table with Tanya. There's no doubt she's going to try and make a cake.
Flash forward to the third year of primary school.
So I'm panting, taking in deep breaths as I run. I can't see them. There's two, I can feel they're close but where? Then suddenly they strike one on either side of my cheek. The cool breeze catches the wet of the lip marks making my cheeks cold. Tanya and Laura both say 'Kiss-ie Cat' Damn them and their putrid kisses. Everyone knows girls are riddled with Coodies. I've got to admit this was in my prime, I had two of them. I sit in the class room and we're learning English. We've got to write the sentences on the chalk board so I do, 'The Mint do got kno when all his brodders have gom.' Clear as day in my book. A shadow makes it's way up my English book and looms over me. I turn to find the teacher reading my sentence.
Flash forward a couple of Days.
I sit in a chair looking at a brightly lit screen squinting with a pair of ridicules glasses on. The optician tells my mother I'll defiantly need glasses. Already I can see...well feel my life slipping away from me. I knew it said Caterpillar and not Mint on the chalkboard. Damn you eyes!
I've lost Tanya, think it's the new glasses. Laura is still interested, Kiss-ie Cat and all that. Then I'm introduced to one of the children my mother looks after before and after school. She's ok but comes infested with head lice. It's unavoidable to dodge them and soon my thick beautiful hair is littering the barbers floor along with my tears, oh how I cried and oh how I grasped for mummy. Squirming and sobbing has the barber's shaver hummed through my hair.
Flash Forward to next day.
I'm stood in the play ground and the cold breeze bounces off my near to bold head. I'm freezing and Laura isn't even playing Kiss-ie Chase with me. No one is really playing with me then the girl who gave me knits comes up to me and runs her hand across my head, front to back, whilst saying 'Spikey'.
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