When I'm Being The Best Version Of Myself

I find that things go best for me, and I go forward without there being any friction, when I don't pause to stare at the reflection from the light that shines in those moments when something I have inside must be shared. Like the sun, or a mother who gives her child love which is unconditional; I'm best when I want nothing in return. It's when I pause and wait for thanks, for recognition, for feedback about a deed I did that I feel merits it; that's the point at which everything starts to go wrong. I ought to just carry on releasing what needs to be released, indefinitely, without pausing and without hesitation, until my time finally runs out.

Intimidating Others Is A Privilege I Enjoy Making The Most Of

One of the best things about being big and black in an almost entirely white village I'm finding is the ability to intimidate strangers without having to try. It really is a blessed privilege!

It's been so nice to have people quaking in abject fear when I've walked into a beer garden and taken a pew with my pint at the picnic bench next to them, and then bathed myself in the waves of worrisome gazes coming in from all angles, as they scope me out, attempting to divine my ulterior motive for choosing that particular bench to plonk my arse upon.

"But why that table in particular? Why not the one furthest away from us?? We're onto you sunshine... We'll be monitoring every sip you take of the delicious local IPA your drinking far too slowly to be a benign presence. Any other person who meant us no harm would have been half way through that pint by now. Keep an eye on him Karen, I'm just going for a piss..."

I love feeling the tension build and build between me and them, to the point where this non-existent war of attrition raging in their minds is just one more non-sip of my drink away from becoming an all-out wild west saloon brawl, minus the honky-tonk pianist providing our farcical soundtrack.

Then all of a sudden something will happen; an unintended connecting of our worlds will occur. The couple's dog, who had up until then been lying obediently at their feet will suddenly get up to stretch its legs, and without excusing itself, stroll casually across the hard border between us and into my domain, and I'll start petting it without thinking, stroking it like it was my own dog, telling it how lovely it is.

When people who think they should fear you see you being kind and gentle to something or someone they really care for then you immediately go from public enemy number one to being their newly adopted son in the blink of an eye. It's great! Shortly after I'd finished stroking their dog, during which I'd looked across at the couple to make friendly eye contact, I was being bombarded with unlimited pork scratchings and original flavour scampi fries! Win!!!

People feel better when they realise their fears were just unnecessary figments of their imagination, preventing them from being able to get along with everyone, and so it's a privilege for me to be someone's fear which is able to make itself disappear.

Charlie Brooker will be receiving a lot of blame from people in the near future

People like Charlie Brooker and other writers who make their living priming populations to accept dystopian narratives really aren't helping us survive right now. They are like traders who make fortunes when tragedies occur. It's not fair. And the love of dystopian fiction can only exacerbate our current predicament even further as the more desperate the situation in the real world becomes, the greater quality of content and source material they have to work with. I despise Brooker for this and what he must know he's contributing to in terms of the power of his narratives to influence the world's ability to envisage its own future.

Listening to the Internal Signal

What's interesting is that things start to go wrong when we begin making decisions and having intentions for ourselves. Going forward in our lives stops becoming easy, ceases to feel natural and instead feels forced and fake. We stop fulfilling our potential find we don't have access to our super powers anymore. We've been locked out of the domain within our spirit that can make the impossible, possible. It's only when we let go of the reins of self-control and really listen to the internal signal we're receiving from beyond that we then start to carry out what we are supposed to carry out. It's only then that we're able to regain our flow again, to have our mojo return to us, and then the sequence of life events which plays out from that moment forth starts to feel like destiny once more, like things can't happen any other way because it has already been written.

Letter to Matt Bourne - on claiming that nothing but self promotion can ever happen on facebook

Matt Bourne - It’s all about shameless self-promotion. Facebook is not a catalyst for meaning, nor does it inspire grace or modesty. It brings out the twats in all of us - especially me ;)

It's not all about shameless self-promotion, especially if you have nothing to promote, plus facebook doesn't bring out the twats in people at all unless you convince yourself it will, would like it to do so, or are looking for an excuse to be one.

You seem to have decided what the limits of facebook can ever be prior to even writing anything within it. "Facebook IS this....Facebook IS that...", painting a picture of Facebook as a tool which possesses only one function. 

Is it not your personal belief that everyone's goal on here is self-promotion that is possibly causing you to feel cynical and find it impossible to accept anything other than self-promotion could ever take place in such a commercially mediated online space? Fair enough if you do, but for me it's not the case. 

One interesting thing I've noticed is that many of my friends who are performers, who are used to experiencing the script whereby they get up on stage then share their skills, express their souls and passion for their art in the presence of an audience, which then applauds them at the end, making them feel good. A source of validation to feed the confidence that their choice of life direction was a wise one...... Many of these performer friends of mine seem to feel like wherever they are, they are permanently on a stage, even when nobody's around. 

I think having a career path or vocation which has an end goal of receiving a positive reception from an audience, and then that positive reception being linked to you receiving financial compensation as a result -"The more people like my work, the more likely they will buy it and the richer I will become". If your life has that aspect to it then I think its only natural for you to see everyone else's activity on facebook through your lenses which have been cut from self-promotional glass. 

I'm not a performer. I can't even stand the sight of my own face in my profile pic! plus I work in a field where I'm surrounded by people who society forgets about all the time, so speaking to people on facebook for me always feels like a one-to-one experience. I don't have a sense of an audience badgering me, looking over my shoulder with their judgments and criticisms. Each day I just go to work and then come back home. The world at large never learn of me. Just the way I like it.

My Natural Affinity With Younger People

I've always been able to relate to young people, often being mistaken for one at the bar myself. In the petrol station earlier, a trendy looking lad being served at the counter was chatting to the cashier. The two of them were talking quite openly and I overheard the youth saying "...and he didn't realise that it was only me!". I felt the urge to shoehorn myself into their conversation and blurted out behind the kid "Only me!!", like the pensioner from the Harry Enfield sketches who always turns up unannounced and uninvited. I didn't see the cashier's face but the kid turned around and looked at me like I'd spontaneously lost my mind without good cause. I think I've blocked out how things carried on after that.

Giving Something Your All

The good thing about giving something your all when in a crisis is that you lose the right to blame yourself for anything that happens beyond what you're capable of, as there is nothing more you could be doing. You're already doing everything possible that can be done. Self-blame levels have been capped.

The Inherently Limiting Effects Of DAWs

I find DAW's inherently limiting, in a really bad neurotic and obsessive way. The fact that samples and songs automatically loop, I've grown to absolutely detest this function but have only just released that it was one of the reasons why my musical creations were shite.

I never write a message like that in real life. Hi, hi , hi, hi, Hi, hi, hi, hi, How, are you, how are you, how are you, how are you, How are you, how are you, how are you, how are you, How are you Chris, how are you Chris, how are you Chris, how are you Chris, How are you Chris....

maybe I should write a techno message to someone like that...but the repetitive default design of most DAWs I find makes it hard to be able to imagine a path away from the original kernel of an idea.

That's why all my music sounds gash and never goes anywhere, and so I become disillusioned, although I love the act of communicating and language per se. I should splurge more, jizz all over the staves then cherry pick the nice cherries.

Get used to and more confident with doing things first time. The first take is the only take. There are no re-runs. Speech in reality is a first draft that can't be amended without first being captured. Be in a world where capture doesn't exist. Then once you wake up from having channeled what is without, remind yourself that you did actually press record and you can now edit away for the next 15 hours! Sweet!!

CAPITALISM IS SOCIALISM (you just take shit for free instead)

"You can't give poor people stuff for free. They don't deserve it! They ought to work for it honestly like we do!" - said the whinging Capitalist, conveniently oblivious to the fact that his business was only able to get itself off the ground by scraping the cream off his workers wages, under the necessary guise of reinvestment.

Capitalism literally IS getting stuff for free, and using what you get for free to generate even more stuff for free - but you have to do it with charm and grace, otherwise it just looks like straight up theft. And looking like a thief is much worse than actually being a thief these days.

I think what the ruling class mean is that rather than poor people being given stuff for free, they ought to follow their master's example and just TAKE IT!

But then when I tried to take a £3 T-shirt off the rack at Primark they banged me up in a cell for the night and made it even harder for me to function in this world once I got out. Go figure...

Some Privileges Only Emerge When You Reach A Certain Age

Some of the privileges I currently have began as things almost everyone starts off with, and only became privileges the longer mine endured.

Like still having hair.

Recently a follically challenged man threw a jibe my way regarding my excessive cranial foliage. He implied that all the hair I got given must have landed in the same spot, and therefore the rest of my body must be mannequin smooth - devoid of all manly hairiness.

I didn't tell him he was right. Instead, I lifted his spirits by recalling the time I thought you could use shower gel as a substitute for hair gel because both products had the word 'gel' in them. I told him how the swagger in my step from showcasing my coiffed afro while ambling through Birkenhead Market soon turned to panicked scurrying as rain caused foam bubbles to suddenly start streaming down my forehead like I was sweating soap. This cheered the man up no end and it looked as though he felt a bit better about being bald.

But as well as those privileges we have which make others resent us, other privileges can sometimes make people pity you and even want to use you as a piece of technology. My height one such versatile example.

Shorter people breath sighs of relief not having to donate their face to rid doorways of ornate spider webs, and feel the wave of good fortune wash over them on the nightclub dance floor, glancing over to see the lone pitiful giant sticking out of the sweaty throng like Herman Munster, dancing like he's 5 feet 6.

But just an hour ago I realised that my height is also a privilege inexhaustible in its ability to not only give my life meaning, but also create a sense of community, bring people together and reaffirm the sentiment that we have to help each other if the world is to run smoothly.

I was in ASDA, again, walking down the soft drinks aisle, had picked up the cheapest drink when an old woman looking a bit embarrassed asked if I would use my height to fetch her a crate of Purdeys from the top shelf. I did and her face lit up! I may have even made a joke about the number of crates I should get down for her.

But it made me think, is this what she has to do every time she goes to ASDA and wants something from the top shelf??? No.... Her shopping trips must take forever and she didn't strike me as the kind of pensioner accustomed to scaling shelves like they were climbing frames.