soyboy94

[soyboy94]

let’s go camping

i’ve been plant based for five years. definitely disagree with animal cruelty, animal products and exploitation. now, this flat i live in presently, was once a butchers. 

need i say more? 

why not: there was previously 26 butcher shops that line these local streets.

more? 

alright, well, we went camping last weekend and of 8 of us there, 7 were chomping on greasy, slimy, chunky pork belly, making lip smacking sounds as they chewed into thick slices of the fatty pig stomach, soaking hot lipids in saliva, swallowing down the sinewy-muscle left on the bone.  really beautiful, can you imagine? 

i mean... ahh camping... surrounded by soft sounds of swishing trees, an open warming fire, friends all silently smiling away, chilled beer in hand ... ... and girthy hunks of slaughtered animal flesh; curdling, bubbling blood; dense bone and oily, greasy, mud-chipped fat. just... something else right?

so, that was probably the worst moment of the weekend for me. probably didn’t help, that we had a toke of a joint just before the blood-bath ensued, so my mind was definitely absorbed by a shocking difference from my previous plant-based family dinners. 

afterwards, we took pills containing MDMA and became happy. happy enough to actually have a conversation with each other? ah, modern times, if we want a nice conversation, we need to rewire our neurons and flood our brain with serotonin. needs must, right? probably a northern thing. 

in my cringed up ecstatic state, i insisted on blasting ed sheeran, decided someone who definitely does not vibe with Becky Hill was definitely coming to a Becky Hill concert with me, sold my £450 bike for 50p, all in a condensed 6 hours experienced as about 6 seconds. 

i mean, you blink and then there you are, cranked inside a really cramped tent, and your brain is in hardcore deficit mode where all you want to do is curl up into a ball of unproductiveness. waiting for a hundred years for the cars to come collect us, after you’ve overdressed in the cold morning and now your body temperature has blazed into a fireball inferno, dragging your body and soul back through the woods, through the city centre, to the flat, to open the door, to realise you are so serotonin depelted that there isn’t much point in doing ... anything at all ? i mean, we had a great conversations around the campfire though, yeah yeah, i mean, conversations couldn’t extend further than a half-formed train of thought, because you know, you just forget anything your brain was engaged in for the past two seconds. 

i forgot to mention, i tried ketamine for the first time. dulls you down. you become dumber. sounds awesome! right? i mean, what a life goal. ‘get dumb’. it was explained to me that it will ‘take off the edge’ which, come to think of it, means there’s an edge in the first place. i’d rather just have smooth edges. yeah wow.

they’re going camping again next weekend. i was game but now im thinking actually, really, really, really fuck that. who knows i’ll probably end up going anyway, and regretting the entirety of the experience.

Well! another positive one!!

maybe i should blog about some good stuff.  

i’ll make a note literally have ‘write a positive blog-post’ is on my to-do list

[soyboy94]

questionable

Today is Tuesday. On Saturday, I’ll be leaving this city. I’ve chosen to leave my suburban, rent-free, very comfortable salaried, easy-going, zero real-responsibility, loving family-home of twenty six years ... to begin a brand-new low-paid, notoriously high-stress career in an expensive apartment; with limited privacy, so inner city the cars outside practically park in your living room, five hundred million miles away from anyone you know, to live with someone who can’t speak a word of non-fact. 

Yes, that’s right, leaving the security of many years of familial roots here in Birmingham, a cultural and economic thriving melting pot of friends with access to anywhere in the world, relatively easily, jet setting off to the nation’s most economically and culturally deprived, alcoholically violent (statistically true), mono-cultured white gammon-faced butcher-shop street of a city, Newcastle. 

Okay a bit harsh toward the end but you get the picture. This is England. Not everywhere’s that bad but a lot of the bad is concentrated in some regions of the region I am about to enter. It’s going to be my job to get knee deep in deprivation and try and support the families that recycle an endless pursuit of poor relationships and questionable life choices. I’m training to become a social worker. Yeah, I’m expecting it to be as exciting as it sounds. 

Moving from a £40k, be-my-own-boss salary, to under 20 and managed, is a very questionable life choice you may think. Maybe I need a social worker. Maybe the plot twist is that I am my own first case: me: “Alright team, what the fuck has this guy done with his life” me: “God knows, better have a meeting in five” five seconds later, out of bed, into the bathroom, reflection in the mirror, we both sigh me: “Right here you are, do you know why we’ve agreed this meeting today?” me: “I mean yeah to be honest on paper this decision to change everything good and make it all a fuck lot harder, is questionable” me: “and how does that make you feel” me: “slightly questionable I guess” me: “what do you mean, how can you be questionable about being questionable?” me: “I mean, it’s 5am, this whole scenario is questionably odd” me: “Okay I guess I moved here cause’ I’m love with, you know, him” me: “would you like to say more?” me: “not today, we’ll get to the previously highly questionable choice of deciding to form a strong emotionally attached relationship with a man who can be communicably shitty and painstakingly self-centred at the worst of times, who sees all things in exciting colours of plain black and plain white .... but as I say, I’ll fill you in on the bigger picture another time.” meeting adjourned