Dane Cobain's Blog, page 29

Two Friends Shake Hands in the Liver

Coffee,

meet booze.

Booze,

this is coffee,

my friend at 9 AM

when I’m half awake

and struggling to function.

Coffee,

booze makes me sing

karaoke,

and sometimes

I also

Fall over.

Booze,

coffee is the one

I warned you about;

it sometimes makes my hands shake

like you do.

Booze,

I’m sorry

but I think

we need to talk.

Coffee,

I don’t like it

when you’re black;

I’m not a racist

but

white is right

and black is whack,

you can call me

a white coffee

supremacist.

Coffee,

you need

a little sugar;

booze,

you’re sweet enough.

Booze,

I’ve got the blues;

I used to abuse you

loosely,

but now

I need to put

the kettle on.

Coffee,

I’m a-comin’;

don’t let me fall asleep

in a meeting.

Booze,

I’m sure I’ll see you

this evening.

New Song: Your Life

Hi, folks! Just a quick update for you today – I wanted to let you know about a new song that I wrote. It’s called ‘Your Life’, and it’s a sort of bittersweet song about life and how it is how it is.

I’ve released the track on my Soundcloud account, so click here to check it out or listen to it in the player below.

 

 

If you’d like to check out more music, you can also head over to iTunes or Spotify to check out my first two albums, Nocturne and Sketches. And you can subscribe to my YouTube channel for further updates on stuff, including music.

Finally, you can follow me on Facebook and Twitter for further updates on all sorts of stuff. I’ll see you soon!

Canterbury 2016 Journal

It’s that magical time again when I get back from a holiday and feverishly turn my memories into a belated journal before the slow, inexorable march of time makes me forget what the hell actually happened. This time, we’re taking a trip to Sittingbourne, Herne Bay and Canterbury on the coast of Kent, the English Garden county.

But first, let’s take a detour into London.

Picture the scene: It’s 5:30 on a Friday, and I’ve just knocked off work for the week and downed a bottle of beer before hopping on the 850 bus, which is late as usual, from Marlow to High Wycombe. I head back home for long enough to sink another beer and collect the lady friend. She’s asleep in my bed, having arrived at my flat and letting herself in while she waits for me, so I wake her up and tell her to get her shit together so that we can head into London.

On that Friday night, Canterbury seemed like a dream that was yet to happen. Our sights were set instead on a pilgrimage to London, so we walked through town – stopping for cheesy chips and chilli sauce from Dennis’s kebab van – then hopped on the fast train to Marylebone, where I managed to squeeze in two more beers before we arrived in the capital.

At Marylebone, there was time for a quick cigarette before going underground to catch the tube to Camden Town, which left us just a short walk away from the Jazz Café. It’s a lovely little venue, and it has the added touch of a sound system in the bathroom that pipes in music from the stage, so you don’t miss the acts while you’re taking a leak. At a fiver per pint, it’s actually one of the cheaper music venues when it comes to alcohol, although I’m more used to paying £3.50. I miss my uni days, when it was £1.70 for a pint, or just a pound at acoustic night or when the year was coming to an end and they needed to shit their remaining stock by selling it at cost to alcoholic academics.

But we weren’t there for over-priced beer and lavatorial sound systems. We were there to see Foreign Beggars, and if you don’t know who they are, you’d better get to know, fam. But first, we caught a set by Eva Lazarus, who was pretty good – she could sing, she could rap and she could dance, and she managed to put on a strong show without any ego. When she talked between the songs, you could tell that she loved music and was grateful to have an attentive audience to share her sound with. Plus, she had a couple of backing singers/dancers and a shit ton of sparkly confetti. What’s not to love?

And then Foreign Beggars were on, and it was epic. They performed a decent mix of new tunes and old classics, including a few from Asylum Speakers, and were joined by an all-star cast of special guests including Dr. Syntax. I’ve wanted to see him live for a while because he’s one of my favourite rappers, and so it was a nice surprise to get to see him. He’d brought Pete Cannon along, who I’m more familiar with as a producer, but it turns out he’s a decent rapper as well.

Overall then, it was a cracking gig and a great night, and we kept the party going with a couple more beers on the train home. I was trying to read my Stephen King book (Rose Madder) on the journey, but the print was small and it hurt my eyes and so I didn’t make much progress. And, because all good things must come to an end and we had to get up early in the morning, we hit the sheets as soon as we got in and fell asleep almost immediately.

That brings us up to Saturday, when our adventures began for real. We got up at the crack of ten without too much of a hangover, and then quickly packed our things and loaded up the car. It was a two-hour drive to Sittingbourne, our final destination, but the traffic wasn’t too bad and we made the entire journey in a single leg, arriving at The Pilgrims Rest bang on check-in time at 2 PM.

It was a lovely little B&B, and quite the find – the staff were friendly and while there were some other people staying there, we didn’t really hear or see them and so we were able to take it easy. The room was a good size too, with a comfortable bed and an en-suite with a bath in it, as well as free WiFi and digital TV, so we treated ourselves to a cup of coffee and some Saturday afternoon television while we got our bearings and prepared to head back out again.

Our first stop was the seaside town of Herne Bay, and despite it being the end of the season, the weather was good and there was plenty to see and do. We strolled along the beach for a while and I tried (and failed) to skim stones over the water, and we also wandered along the pier. Most of the little shops and things were closed, but they had a bouncy castle and a micro pub which sold ‘Beer on the Pier’ – possibly not the wisest of combinations.

After that, we wandered along the high street and checked out a few charity shops, where I was able to pick up three Agatha Christie books for a pound. We also had chips (minus the fish) in a little restaurant on the seafront and then wandered through the arcades, although we didn’t play any of the machines because they didn’t have Time Crisis and, let’s face it, Time Crisis is where it’s at.

Afterwards, we hopped into the car and went back to the hotel, where we settled in to watch TV for a bit while I got some work done. That’s the thing about being a writer – you never stop, and if there’s a little downtime while you’re in a hotel room, you’re contractually obliged to boot a laptop up and start working. We did at least nip out for a drink at the local pub – which was deserted – and I also took a break from watching Pensioners That Kill for long enough to take a bath. This probably makes me sound old, but relaxing in the bath with a good book can hold more appeal than a night on the town, especially when the town in question is as sleepy as Sittingbourne is in mid-October.

We woke up at around nine on the Sunday and shuffled obediently into the dining room for breakfast, which was included in the price of the room. Becca and I shared a pot of coffee and started out with some toast and some home-made jam and marmalade, before moving on to a vegetarian cooked breakfast. It was a delicious start to the day and helped to fortify us for our adventures, which started just as soon as we packed up our stuff, checked out of the room and then hopped in the car to go to Canterbury.

Our first stop was the Canterbury Tales attraction, which was home to a number of different rooms which were filled with animatronics that told the stories of some of Chaucer’s tales. Their employees were in costume and in character, and so part of the tour was led by them, but for the middle of it, it was all automated and you listened to the story on a headset. If you can call them headsets – they were more like early cordless house phones, heavy chunks of plastic that made your arms ache by the end of it. Still, it was atmospheric and had that weird smell going on that you often find at tourist attractions, and the gift shop was pretty cool too. It’s the kind of attraction that’s not for everyone – and in fact is probably better for adults than children thanks to the need for a long attention span and the occasional bawdy joke – but for literature lovers it was perfect, and good value for money, too.

After that, we went for a walk around Dane John Gardens, purely because I have the same name(s) and I wanted to be photographed beside the sign. It turned out to be a good choice because it was a beauty spot with some stunning statues and architecture, including the remnants of the city’s historic wall and an obelisk at the top of Dane John Mound. There was a cracking view of the city and I took a panorama of it, but it was ruined slightly by the cranes and the main road.

By then, we’d built up an appetite, and so we refuelled at Wetherspoons with nachos and halloumi wraps before browsing through a couple more charity shops and stopping off at a tobacconist, where I treated myself to some flavoured tobacco – blueberry, vanilla and menthol. Then it was time for the last stop of the trip: Canterbury Cathedral.

We didn’t have a huge amount of time to walk around, but we didn’t really need it – you can see it all in an hour or so. In fact, it was a good time to go – they’d just had their Sunday service and the choir was practicing. They sounded beautiful, even to my atheist ears, and the architecture was phenomenal. We even wandered around the crypts and got to learn a little history, and afterwards we walked around the grounds, which were well-maintained and looked great in the sunshine. We were lucky that the weather held.

But like the life of Leonard Cohen, all good things must come to an end, and so we left the cathedral behind and made our way back to the car, stopping at Tesco on the way to stock up on supplies for the drive home, which we made in one leg again.

And then we unpacked and watched Netflix, but you don’t want to hear about that. You want to hear about my next exciting adventure, which means you need to buy some of my books to help me fund it.

Right? Right.

THE END

Narcissistic nature ailment

Narcissistic nature ailment

Narcissistic Character Ailment will be a ailment from the thoughts which results in tendencies that shows arrogance, loss of empathy for others’ struggles along with the incessant need be the main focus of everyone’s affection. Narcissism is usually an mindset that is a fantastically moderate form of the Narcissistic Nature Problem and it also calls for conceitedness, self centeredness, deviousness and high self worth. Your situation however simple fact that those who are plagued by Narcissistic Identity Condition are not usually as self reassured on the inside when they might seem toward the eyesight.click reference The arrogant disposition from the consumer will be hiding an in-depth a sense low self-esteem including a unbelievably breakable a sense worthwhile.

The Narcissistic Charm dysfunction (NPD) results from a lot of details which entail a vast fuse to genes, the family and social networking experience specifically over the earlier on portion of an individual’s everyday life, along with the person’s disposition and temperament. Things about Narcissistic attitude dysfunction or put simply the attributes that need to be found in individuals for him/her that will be told you have this ailment, are plentiful and a few of them are mentioned through the immediately following couple of sentences. Anyone in essence adheres to practicing exaggerating his/her accomplishments, lives in unending fantasies of effectiveness and successes, considers which he/she is exclusive, necessitates endless compliments, and includes unjust anticipations of specific treatment plan from many people. In addition to the many provided aspects, a person who has problems with NPD also has an exploitive viewpoint to anyone in the vicinity of, has no empathy for anyone who is otherwise, harbors envy from the rest and carry on of all of the display screens arrogant conduct.

Research printed within the Record of Professional medical Psychiatry set advise that 7.7 percentage point fellas as 4.8 percentage gals expand NPD in their life. The percent climbs even much better when exploring males and females whom are dark-colored, Hispanic most women, adolescents, and those that typically are not at a romantic relationship. (Nordqvist 2014) The likelihood of frequency of NPD in some individuals also changes in relation to their era. Research directed in the year 2008 at the Nationally Associate samples of US locals targeted to review the pervasiveness of NPD with a lifetime. The investigation was prosperous in concluding that people that are with their 20s are thrice very likely to undertaking NPD inside their lifestyles to stop those who have crossed 60 years old. This indirectly indicates how the happening and instances of Narcissism and NPD have most certainly been boosting in current generations. This is why, the young children today are noticed to become very much less empathetic to other’s feelings, have superior objectives which have been focused on popularity, income and electricity and generally are experienced to have got far better experience of selves. The key reason why can genuinely excellently be linked to the public norms and anticipations that we all immediately are most often dwelling in.

With all the conversations on the what, why and how taken care of, let’s make an attempt to describe how Narcissistic Persona Dysfunction might well have destructive implications for the person who suffers coming from it. The condition holds heavy risk of drug mistreatment and aside from that the sufferers of NPD also typically get despondent, have difficulties at connections and come across suicidal emotions and inclinations,. That is the situation. These individuals also struggle with much more their share of problems on the job along with in upholding human relationships. Also, men who go despite the fact that NPD often answer back increased to constant worry and can also be actually quite going to enhance heart disruptions.

NPD consequently is a concern that is indeed being noticed increasingly with moving past serious amounts of could very well be one reason why towards the escalating depressive disorder and emotional stress that we encounter with our lives. There is no dispute throughout the indisputable fact that plans are necessary to get through this challenge although the considerations that stay are these; does our way of life need to be adjusted or should we ask for improvement in the way of which we look like paying for even more than the desired awareness to the everyday life of many people? In the past we ultimately end up being in a position a good amount of to give strategies to the aforementioned inquiries, additional exploration is likely to be necessary. But let’s not eliminate using.

Remembrance Poem

I’m a member

of the privileged generation;

I have to fight

for what I believe in,

not with guns

on the Western Front

but with the same words

Churchill used

to raise the spirits

of a nation.

War is hell,

It’s kinda obvious;

It’s just we’re so self-absorbed

by selfies and porn

that we forget

those names on the war memorial;

they’re not just names,

they’re lives that fought

in the Second World War

so we could take photos

of what we eat in restaurants.

Good men

didn’t do nothing;

real people

risked their lives

for you and I,

and while the world has changed,

some things are the same,

and if history repeats itself

I hope to high hell

we were listening.

And hey

the Germans died too

and so did the Jews

and the gypsies,

plus hundreds of thousands

of innocent people,

and while Hitler was evil

and needed dealing with,

it was a high price to pay

for all nations,

and not just ours.

For every second of silence

there’s a lifetime of violence,

and people paid

the ultimate sacrifice;

I’m grateful for that,

every time I wake up

and the sun is shining.

The youth of today

must make this relevant;

the lives that are gone

must not be forgotten.

Pumpkins

I’m trying to turn

into a pumpkin.

When I was six,

I used to strain so hard

to try to teleport

I pulled muscles

in my lower back,

but somehow

I never quite

mastered it.

At eleven,

I tried to make myself

invisible,

which is really more psychology

than harnessing spider bites

or waving a magic wand,

and to some extent

I was successful.

But now I want

to turn into

a pumpkin.

When I was sixteen

I figured maybe

I could make a living

stringing words together

into music,

but I can hardly play guitar

and I’m not singing

anymore.

At twenty-one,

I gave it all up for a bad job,

realised the world don’t owe

me nothing,

and even if it did,

I can hardly break its legs

or raise the interest

rate.

And now I want

to turn into

a pumpkin.

At twenty six

I was crippled with fear

about to drop

my first release,

and then I realised

I’d miss this shit

if I wasn’t into it.

I’m still trying

to turn into

a pumpkin.

I’ll take life

one little seed

at a time.

The Colours Exploded

The colours exploded

like a bomb

beneath the water,

and it all rained down

like an oil slick

refracting light

through a prism

of your own

creation.

Angry reds

and angry blues

and angry yellows

in various

combinations;

angry oranges

and angry greens

and angry violets,

like a pissed off poem

for Valentine’s Day.

It’s all the fun of flags

with twice the hassle,

backwards plans

to take a blank canvas

and plaster it handsome

with the colours you coughed,

hard to understand

like a cancer scan

or a pension plan,

fam.

When I dissolve

into molecules,

I might be a see-through green

on a computer screen

or a passionate red

that’s not right in the head

because nothing’s really

black and white

on the internet.

But baby

you can see my colours

when you can’t see

nothing else,

and anyway

I was born to be

a rainbow.

You can sing a rainbow too

if you’d like to join me.

Falling from the Sky

I like the rain

because the rain

can understand me,

we talk the same language

and we both have an affinity

with ellipses.

The rain

won’t let you down,

it’ll sign its name

across the atmosphere

like a skywriter signing,

“Will you marry me?”

I like the way

rain will fall

when life is just beginning,

and it’ll start and stop

but still shower

when we turn the lights off

and set our alarm clocks.

It’s like the kiss of life

when a new world rises

lit up by a hundred suns,

as long as the conditions are right

for sustaining life

and oh my friend

the rain will hold me

when I fall over.

And I don’t even mind

if my clothes won’t dry

or if my pen won’t write

beneath the cold sunlight,

I’ve got lines in my head

I won’t repeat again.

I never wished

the rain away

in the first place.

Oh I Do Like to Be

Seaside towns

are something wonderful,

some sort of thundering relic

of post-war Britain

or a throwback

to the spread

of the railways.

Even when it’s a stony beach

that’s covered in seaweed,

you can get your bucket and spade

and dig a grave to lay in,

or you can toss your coins

into claw machines

in amusement arcades,

promenade lazily along empty piers

or raise your hands

to greet the seagulls.

You can rummage for buried treasure

or scuba dive the cold waters

of the English Channel,

looking for sunken ships

or incoming immigrants

on a lifeboat.

You can even buy

some candyfloss

and get pink strings of sugar

stuck to your lips and teeth

or buy rock

with your name on

to take back home

again.

Fish and chips on the seafront,

or fireworks in July

while the sun sinks down

and falls asleep.

Holding hands

with the person you like

as the waves swell and break

and the tide comes in.

New Recording: Philosophy

Hi, folks! Just a quick update for you today about a new song of mine that I recorded – it’s called Philosophy, and it took me four times longer to record it than it did for me to write it.

You can check out the song on my Soundcloud account or listen to it in the player below. It’s still a work in progress, but at least it gives you an idea of what it sounds like in my head.

 

 

In the meantime, if you’d like to listen to more of my music, you can check out my albums on Spotify or head over to YouTube. You can also follow me on Facebook and Twitter for further updates. I’ll see you soon!