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"Happiness seems to be loneliness
And loneliness killed my world"
Here's something for you to ponder.
What place do you visit semi-often that you hate? Where do you go that makes you feel totally isolated? Is there somewhere that makes you feel so lonely you just wish you could leave?
This is something that's been nibbling at the bud of creativity in my mind for a while now. I'd be interested to know if many people have such a place. I sure do.
For me, it's easy. I can't stand the train from London Euston to Milton Keynes.
Why? Well, this might sound silly, but I rather like the Euston train station. It's big, it's shiny, and it has the only Burger King in the country to serve hot-but-not-burnt food. It's a nice place, I really like it. And I quite like the train on the way down - even though I hate trains, it means I'm going somewhere, it means I'm free from Milton Keynes for a while. But going back, that's a different story.
I'm always coming back late, for obvious reasons - if I'm out for the day I'm not gonna be home by 3pm! That means it's always busy and bustling with irritable worker. It's even worse on a Sunday when people who've been to the beach for the weekend are coming home. That means there's loads of people around, but because I'm generally by myself there's nobody to talk to. I've tried stirring up conversation once, but just got blank stares.
It means I'm coming back from something, maybe a jam, maybe an event, maybe a festival. That's always a horrible feeling by itself, but with the other factors it's immense.
It's a sickeningly long journey! I mean, a train down to Euston takes barely any time at all because there's a train you can get which doesn't stop along the way, but I haven't seen a train that does the same going home. It's horrible stopping and going and stopping and going, slowly seeing the carriages empty leaving nothing but people's rubbish and chewing gum....
And finally, at the end of the train journey, I have to walk roughly two miles from the station to my house.
Doing overdue college work that you STILL don't understand sucks.
Being sat in a busy library with no familiar faces to talk to sucks.
All three of these sucky things together is uber sucky.
I'm freezing cold, sweating like a fat man in a sauna, absolutely dying of thirst, and I have a headache. Yet for some reason I'm still desperately trying to fabricate answers to pass off as primary research for extensive coursework that I was supposed to have handed in a week ago, and supposed to have started two months ago.
I was going to have it done yesterday, but spending a good portion of my day rushing around the city centre like a moron trying to find a decent phone within my price range kinda left me hindered.
Damn whoever stole my N73. Luckily it was crap, I'm just not thrilled about stuff that was meant for my eyes only being released into the general public.
Hello there, my name is Fat Tony and I'm mind numbingly shy. How are you?
Good evening guys and gals, I'm bored so I figured it'd be a fun time to have a tinkle in my blog. Haven't posted in a while so I'll try fill you all in with what the Fat-man has been doing as of late!
First up, massively, I'M AT COLLEGE! WOO! It's been nearly three years since I dropped out of sixth form, and I've come a long way. I'm not the shy, shattered shell of a person that I was at school. I mean, I've actually made friends! I'd even go so far as to say I'm pretty popular - a lot of people know me as "that beatboxing guy", and a few people even call me "Fat Tony" which I'm pretty pleased with. It's weird really... I've never really had friends before, it's really showing me just how much I've changed lately. This year has, looking back, been the best year of my entire life. I owe it all to HUMANBEATBOX.COM of course
Secondly, I'm getting pretty annoyed with being shy. I'm beginning to think that I should introduce myself by saying "Hello there, my name is Fat Tony and I'm mind numbingly shy. How are you?" It's so frustrating! Earlier today we had to watch back some videos of ourselves in Media.... I really didn't want to see me, and ended up with my fingers in my ears and my eyes tightly clamped shut. I don't even know what it is, I just hate seeing myself, and I hate hearing myself too. I'm getting more confidence with talking and performing in front of people - in fact, I did a thirty minute long beatboxing workshop for my Media group during a free period - but that's not going to do me any good if I don't want to be caught on camera doing my thing.
Thirdly, my Trumpet Tutorial is (currently) the third most viewed video on beatboxworld.com! I'm really pleased with the feedback I had from it, I was truly humbled by some of the comments from my peers, so thanks guys!
And finally to finish off the blog, some enormous news. Fat Tony is due a hair cut.
They do, honest. Ask them. Ask a stranger on the street what they do every day. Most of them will walk away looking concerned, but a few will say "why, I learn something everyday!". One or two might even say "you've been reading Fat Tony's blog, haven't you" but that's beside the point.
I learnt something new yesterday. I learnt to never ever EVER help a girl with anything to do with altering their appearance.
Ladies are great, aren't they? They're usually beautiful, friendly, and have certain bits and bobs both added on and taken away just to perk our interest (amongst other things). But sadly they can also be vain, bitter, and incredibly emotional. Especially when it comes to looks, apparently.
So, it started with a bleach. The bleach worked too well, oh no, her hair is white! I thought meh, if it were me I'd laugh it off, give it a day, get some black dye and be on my way, but no. I get sent off to buy two packets of brown dye, which I do. Instead of calmly following the instructions and sorting it out - maybe asking a proffessional to help - she throws an enormous temper tantrum, bursts into tears, throws stuff around her bedroom - and manages to cover her door and bedside table, not to mention her bed sheets and carpet, in a fine layer of dark brown dye.
Never before have I seen such a tantrum! Never!
So, I am teaching you all something today - if somebody ever asks for your help to colour their hair, say no!
"It is seven o'clock in the morning. Fat Tony slams the Off button his alarm, sits up, and stretches. He has had two hours sleep, but as he drearily pulls his drowsy backside out of bed he grins enormously. Tugging on his "I <3 BEATBOX" t-shirt and his reddragonflame short over it, he grabs his rail pass and packs his laptop before setting off for the local train station. Fat Tony was on his way to meet Dash."
My word, what a day!
I could end it with that, but that'd be boring.
My word, what an amazing day!
Nah, still pretty dull.
How about I tell you about it? Dash. Dash, Dashy Dash Dash. My fellow hermaphrodite from Amsterdam, my Vent buddy, the great Teacher of the Wind, and he was in London today! Let's be more precise - WE were in London today, representing HUMANBEATBOX.COM with literally dozens of jams, casual busking, and major jokes a-plenty.
It has to be said, meeting him was a little terrifying - he was accompanied by nineteen other people! I was more taken aback by the fact that he's nearly as tall as me - that was a shock. And the fact that within five seconds I was asked "do you beatbox? Dash can do this singing one!" from a couple of younger kids - resulting in what probably neared a hundred If Your Mother Only Knews from the pair of us throughout the day!
So what did we do? We went sightseeing with his clan of course! We busked outside a Tesco opposite the Big Ben. We drew a crowd in a shopping centre. We beatboxed on every train we boarded. We video'd ourselves looking a little bit daft in all sorts of train stations. We had an amazing time!
I learned the hard way not to ask someone holding a sign questions - we were nicely treated to a mini sermon by somebody who spoke in a voice that reminded me of Hannibal in a Very Bad Way! I've also walked more than I knew was possible - I'm afraid to take my shoes off in case I don't survive. Rest assured it was all worthwhile though - he's a fantastic beatboxer, a brilliant person, and I feel honored to have met him and added his signature to my laptop.
Sadly there isn't much more I can say until Dash gets home - he took loads of photos and got plenty of footage too, so keep your eyes peeled!