WIll this ever get easier?

Having to talk to new people about my illnesses and then fill in fricking forms to analyse my depression/anxiety/suicide/general mentalness levels really dampens my mood. Is that surprising? Probably not. But the past two Friday's have been ruined by said occurences, of course, other good things have come out of them - not everything is all doom and gloom - but I just hate the absolute low that I hit and then I have to rely on someone else to drag me out of the doldrums. It's ever so boring. Well, at least Manoj thinks the DBT will only take 16 months instead of four years, how's that for hope? Do you note my sarcasm? If you dom't, I have no idea why you're even readin this, I obviously don't know you ... Anyway, here's to Friday being the new Sunday, any of my ex's can tell you quite what that involves, nightmare.

Can serious intellectual theory provide the key to happiness and personal fulfilment for everyone?

Ummmmm, YES!

Well, at least I hope it bloody well can, as that's the avenue I am pursuing at present. I haven't even read Julian Baggini's article, (I will do once I have finished typing this post), but I must say that I do think it is certainly worth trying to come up with some answers.

As I am embarking on another, probably deeper and longer period of internal questioning and restructuring (DBT anyone?), to be able to ponder on the mysteries of our existence helps to stop me getting so involved in my own pathetic problems and puts things into perspective. Plus, it's actually a damn sight more rewarding than shopping or chocolate at times too; cracking an argument or understanding a theory rather gets the blood going in a way I never expected intellectual pursuit would. The fabulous argument Philipp and I had yesterday over James vs Clifford on the Rationality of Faith being case in point!

So, if you're looking for something a little more enlightening, sobering or interesting, I would certainly give Philosophy a go. Speaking of which, time for me to pack up my books and head on in to school, I have an essay on Faith in the absence of Reason to write!

Please tell me this didn't really happen ...

Last night sitting on my bed after a day at school, I'd had a lovely mini-date/coffee with a friend from class, and was feeling tired but good. Dad comes in to tell me about some TV personality who'd committed suicide, we got to talking about how if I ever felt like that again I had to talk to someone. But I'd only just been thinking about how much easier an out it can be minutes before as I was reading about the guys death, which I told Dad, and how I noticed the guy didn't have a partner too, which at his (also my) age, sometimes doesn't help matters terribly much.

And then Dad preceeded to tell me about he'd only just said to Mum the day before about how lonely I must be, here in Perth, in this house, not being able to talk to them about anything, and how nice it would be if I could meet someone. To which the fear of having to talk to people I don't know returned and I started feeling even worse.

I knew things were bad, but I didn't think it'd ever get so far as to attract my parent's pity. Sheesh, I don't think there's an awful lot lower than that.

Except, there is. When your Dad tells you how you can start conversations iwth engineers and tell them about all the interesting things I've done. Which I told him is all well and good, and I know people are interested in me, but unless there's a apark of something interesting about them that they let slip; their passion, or what makes them tick, then it's just another empty boring soulless conversation that I would rather drink myself to death than have.

So you'll forgive me for being rather depressed today then, won't you? To top it all off, I had awful nightmare this morning which I haven't had for ages - yes, they were about running away from scary things or getting into trouble again, of course! - and so with the all-pervading sense of darkness, I start crying when "Shadows" comes on and I realise how much I miss Age & James and how little I will actually see of them while they're in Perth this weekend. I just pictured Age doing his little dance and I burst into tears.

I miss my male friends, I hate not having them here to talk to. I miss all my firends, and all my girlfriends most especially, but there is nothing like the comfort of being with people who love and understand you and want to go out and get drunk and perve on cute boys and DANCE with you. And Age & I do that so very very well.

Where has all the fucking fun in my life gone?

“We used to feel like dancing and screwing are the two things that we are still allowed to enjoy in life, and… we [want] to make music that [encourages] people to do one of those things or both,” Julian Hamilton, one half of The Presets, said recently.

Friends, today is not a good day. I will hopefully see you all tomorrow.

Where's my crystal ball got to?

As an artist manager, the changes in the music industry over the last 15 years - starting with the internet! - have made it a precarious place for musicians and related administrators to be able to make a living. I was horrified to hear hear of the advent and seemingly across-board implementation of the new wave of artist RAPE by record companies a/k/a the 360 deal, so this lifted my heart a little when I saw it today.

I know that despite all the black and pills and what-have-you I am ever the optimist at heart, and it's that part of me that desperately wants ideas like this to become a plausible way of raising revenue and releasing music for artists. Yes, it would do away with record companies for the most part, but distribution co's could suck up the talented people and those A&R peeps still worth their salt would still be seeking out these bright young things to push towards the venture capitalists. After all, that's really all a label is these days and the major's have been for quite some time, a bank.

I have thousands of dollars/pounds invested in artists that I've worked with in the past, maybe if they have the opportunity to sign this type of deal in the future I could claim my % then? Yes, I know I'm stupid for never collecting my just desserts, but unfortunately I was like the venture capitalist at the time. Maybe one day they'll pay off?

Maybe I should be speaking to people to set up something like this hear in Australia??? Yet again, maybe not as I usually dislike people with money ... just a thought though, hey?

Paris & Nicole?

You can't tell the difference between me and a famous person sometimes, due to my perfected pose. The family hate it, I oft get into trouble for not being serious enough in pictures, but I don't do toothy photos, so instead you get a pose. If it's good enough for Keira, it's good enough for me, I reckon ...

Finally got the VISA essay done, thanks to Deb for her (shouting) words at lunch today, it certainly did help to give me a good kick up the arse which was most required. Onwards and upwards with the rest now I feel. Well, maybe tomorrow then.

My hero ...

What a lovely day out this would be ...

"Alain de Botton is a philosopher committed to the idea of making people happier. That's why - and there should be no paradox in this - he also believes that we should all learn to be extremely pessimistic. He will deliver a sermon designed to focus our minds on the absolute darkness of human experience, from the moment of birth to our last sigh, encompassing adolescence, marriage, childraising and career. He will take us through the thought of the Roman philosopher Seneca, who advised that one rise every morning and run through all the disasters that might befall one before sunset. Alain will challenge the great bourgeois promise that everyone can find happiness in love and work. While this is of course a theoretical possibility, Alain will argue that the chances of anyone succeeding in both areas (let alone in one) are extremely remote - and that it is therefore peculiar, and deeply cruel, to base our societies around these values. Indeed, in denying a place for misery and despair, the modern world denies us the possibility of collective consolation, condemning us instead to solitary feelings of shame and persecution. Come to celebrate the particular joys of pessimism. Handkerchiefs advised."

In contemplation, I should really then be thinking myself thankful for achieving both of these "great bourgeois promises" at various times in my life. It's not been that often when I've found myself despairing of the work I have to do, and there have been loves of sorts over the years to speak of as well. I am lucky enough to have a job I love at present, yet no love except for that of my friends, so on balance, things aren't really so bad after all...

Still haven't finished any of those buggery assignments though, WTF!

Pre- yet post- writings ...

I've been writing on Amanda's blog instead of my own with regards to our ridiculously bad attempts at keeping up with our fabulous new buddy system so that she finishes her book and I get my essays in on time this semester. Here's my comments to her first missed deadline post ...

Oh look, I am such a numpty, I never even wrote any, I just THOUGHT I did ... flipping heck. Maybe it really is time to crack on with it instead of attempting to drag up things that DON'T BLOODY EVEN EXIST!

I wonder if my sub-conscious actually knows which of my thoughts are real or not? I really shouldn't be posing questions like that.

RIGHT! Onwards and upwards with those essays then, I really do have no excuses now.