new start. \o/

( a person )

if you want to friend me, feel free to do so. i only ask that you leave me a comment here, & maybe say a few things about yourself or how you got here & i'll add you back if we have enough in common: interests, opinions, or a certain je-ne-sais-quoi. new friends are golden.

okay so All Time Low released a new video & it has made me angry

this post would be in all caps, but it wouldn't be enough to express my rage at the sheer, unadulterated misogyny that oozes from this piece of crap

rage, okay? rage

just this stuff. about sluts & groupies & it's just - not right. & made worse by other girls hating on the girls they call sluts & the ridiculising of groupies as girls who just wanna fuck someone famous or get rich. what the fuck.

i think the most remotely intelligent thing any male musician ever said about groupies was Will Sheff from Okkervil River:

Being a groupie is, in some ways, just an extreme form of fandom. I think that everyone has experienced, on some level, the emotion that motivates you to be a groupie. Groupies are also regularly disrespected, but all it is is somebody who loves something so much that they get involved with it sexually. Or maybe it doesn't even have to do with sex. I have felt a sense of fandom for things that I have loved that is so intense that it starts to bleed into spirituality, bleed into sexuality, and bleed into all kinds of areas of your life that love for a simple rock album should not be occupying.

being a girl is hard work, yo, when cunts like All Time Low are flicking playing their bullcrap pop-punk all over the scene. fuck that shit seriously. & they have stupid hair.

it was a mistake to get into this at 3am, man. i'm too angry to sleep. it's times like these when gway's slurred ramblings about punching shitty-ass dudes in shitty-ass rock bands in their fucking faces make me so ridiculously glad to be involved in that side of fandom, where there's not so much hatin' on vaginas.

so. i really don't wanna trivialise people's sadness re: panic at the disco breaking up, because it sucks when your favourite band goes awry. of course it does. & i'm kind of sadfacing over the fact that the spencer/ryan friendship isn't strong enough to keep them together. i mean, i kind of think - screw everyone else, you can't break up BFFs. that shit ain't right. it's on the same level to me as brothers & sisters - you stick together, you have an unshakeable bond that needs to withstand everything.

so i just hope that it really was an amicable split & that ryan & spencer are all cool with each other & will, idk, call each other every day. but apart from that, i just think - i'm not even surprised? not that i would've called it or anything, but when i found out, it was just a case of "oh. okay. i need to readjust my world view to something in which panic at the disco is no longer together." & that was that. & the way they split - brendon/spencer & jon/ryan - makes a lot of sense, too. i dunno why. perhaps fanfiction has addled my brains. & i'm really intrigued as to what kind of music they'll both be making in their separate camps. so it's not a huge deal to me, even though i am sorry for everyone who's proper sad about the break-up.

but the main thing is this: i'm still pretty bitter over steve being kicked out of placebo, so i can't help making comparisons. thinking - well, panic were together for about five years & they put out two albums. now, they've split up, & all four of them are going to carry on making music in separate ways, & god knows they'll probably be twittering cryptic nonsense & lyrics all over the place on most days. they will still be present in the fans' lives. placebo, with steve, were together as a band for about thirteen years, but they knew steve for about fifteen, considering he played on the demos, & they put out six albums. steve got kicked out, & now he's disappeared off the face of the earth. it's like placebo took steve away from me, okay, & i am really Not Cool with that - at least everyone knows where every member of panic is.

anyway. i'm sorry for the panic fans on my flist. but brendon covering bob marley's three little birds is pretty awesome, & is making me smile a whole lot.

& it's way fucking early right now (got up at 8am. i have not been up at 8am for about two months) & i've got to leave in about five minutes to go & teach some little children french. i did a lesson yesterday, too, & it was pretty cute. i love how ridiculously clever they are at that age & they make me laugh how they don't know what's okay to say & what's not okay. (like they all ask me why i'm so hairy, & i'm like - fuck you. one day you will learn that some of us are dark-haired, okay, & we CAN'T HELP IT. XD)

have a nice day. ♥

open question to everyone: your top five favourite bands/artists?

not top five ever, but top five right now, the ones that are in your head, the ones that are occupying the brain & heartspace of the summertime, of this month & what surrounds it. tell me your thoughts, give me your list, i am curious.

these are mine:

*

1. mindless self indulgence - are a band without a message, who wrote an album instead of a bible, & make me want to think for myself (because they told me to). remembering the last time i saw them kind of aches like bruises you like to press on, because i think it might have changed my life a bit.

2. the used - are lodged in my head, kind of slinking around back there, nasty & beautiful. they get to me with gut reactions, which means i forget the reasons why i love them, & only that i do. the new single has got "i hate to say that i told you so" bouncing around my braincells, & i can't get over the glee that i'm seeing them soon.

3. placebo - the cds have been untouched for months, for all the time before now that stretches to a year, maybe more. but something about summer nights & lonely days brings me back to a time & place with them, & i keep listening to their old stuff now, reliving/reloving every part i'd forgotten.

4. my chemical romance - are difficult to budge from this bunch of five. i keep finding things inside the words that only make sense now when they click into the right place, a brand new jolt of understanding. it's kind of like they're all coiled up right where it hurts the most, & right where it feels like falling in love.

5. indochine - bring me every possible happiness, in their haircuts & incomprehensible english, their queermosexual habits & 80s synth that feels like a soundtrack to the sun. then there's his voice singing pretty, soft words in french that stick inside that part of me that actually cares about where i come from. they feel like mine.

*

now your top five. 3 - 2 - 1 - go!

okay - fanfiction writers, or MCR fans in general. how do you reconcile this side of frank iero:



with the side of him that says things like this:

FrankIero: To the two screaming prick faced toddlers who ruined my viewing of transformers last night, your mother should have sat on a coat hanger. Xo

i mean, i don't consider myself to be uber-PC or anything, & innappropriate humour is kind of hilarious sometimes, but. it's like the character or Frank i had constructed in my mind, who is kind of earnest & pretty sweet - & might have a temper or the occasional bitchfit but is still essentially a nice guy - is completely in opposition to the side of him that comes out on twitter, which seems to be him being kind of an asshole.

& i don't have that much of a problem with assholes, really, as long as they're assholes who make good music & generally seem to have a good heart, even if they are a little bit douchey (Pete Wentz, i'm looking at you). i guess i'm just confused? like, if i'd seen this side of Frank from the start, the side of him that he lets rip in Leathermouth, who yells about setting people on fire & slicing girls up, i might not have such a weird disconnect in my head.

i dunno. it's weird. it's not my place to make judgements about people's characters, especially considering all i've got is a fairly fanfictionalised version of bands, so i'm sure they're way more complex than just 'nice guys' or 'douchebags'. it's just - i didn't really notice that side of frank before. has he just got more angry recently? i guess the whole fandom trope of 'asshole!frank' isn't that far off.

anyway. in other news - i won something in the queerics giveaway! i never win things! how awesome! thanks to everyone who entered; i really enjoyed reading all those entries, & huge thanks to cheshcan for running this, & generally being the mastermind behind the awesomeness of queerics. ♥

OMFGGGGGG

dist_reflection pointed me in the direction of these before i'd even awoken to check twitter, & OMGGGGG.

amanda palmer, throwing a party, inviting a wonderfully eclectic mix of people, twittering throughout the party with picture updates about who's turning up & who's doing what, & then she posts this picture:



I HAD NO IDEA THEIR WORLDS COLLIDED. Gway, Lynz, AFP, & Neil Gaiman, in one place. i am so ridiculously charmed that Amanda hangs out with Gway. i knew the guy fanboyed Neil Gaiman a whole lot, but i didn't realise - they're at a party together! all hanging out!

& then there's this:



i have nothing but :DDDDDDDDDDDDDD & ♥_________________♥

two of my favourite girls-in-music, hanging out together. did anybody else know that AFP & lynz were buddies? NO ONE TOLD ME. i am grinning so ridiculously. this is completely not dissuading me from writing that lynz/afp fic that had been prancing around in my head for a while. they actually know each other!

this is my favourite thing of the morning. that, & this fic, which is a sequel to pretty much my favourite fic of last year in which mikey & gway were orphans with superpowers & had been adopted by liza minelli. some fics just have ridiculously awesome premises.

hope you all have a nice dayyyy. ♥

re: warnings in fanfiction.

warnings are good, so that people don't get hurt. if you don't care about people getting hurt, you kind of suck.

artistic integrity is bullshit because this is fanfiction. fanfiction is not serious.

today, i am going to see my bestfriend for her birthday. happy times. i have made her a totally sweet birthday present because, this year, we are all being scabs. such is the nature of student living. birthday presents made from recycled & existing materials. let's all be hippies.

last night, i watched spiderman with the sister. fucking jokes, man. that film is really, really crap. like, it seemed a lot better a couple of years back, but this time round, we just spent the whole time alternating between going "lolol bullshit" & "♥______♥ james francooooo". which was then followed up by watching the beginning of 'milk' again, just to see him being ridiculously adorable. but yeah, dude. spiderman is kind of lame.

i feel like this morning has been way too heavy. but in the immortal words of pete wentz: Repeat after me "its only the internet". Apply this to your day. You will feel awesome.

fewer dramatic, declarative opinione, more being nice. because there's a difference between offending someone (terribly sorry, please get over it) & causing real harm with words.

i conclude with this, because the smile is contagious:



faggy & full of looooove. i did mention hippies. ♥

~check this out~

okay, you guys are aware of QUEERICS, right? if not, a quick refresher: QUEERICS is a lyric-archiving site with a focus on queer songs that are maybe a bit alternative. cheshcan (who is not german, even if i spell her name wrong when i'm tired) works tirelessly to maintain & update the site, & it's an awesome place to come across new, queer bands, or to give second thoughts to that song you've been listening to for years & never realised was quite so faggy.

anyway, this month, QUEERICS is running a truly kick-ass competition with truly kick-ass prizes. it's really freakin' easy to enter, so there's no excuse not to. just check out THIS ENTRY which has all the information you need to enter, along with exactly what you can win.

not only is this a fun thing to do, but you get to support some awesome, independent, queer artists, which is always good. QUEERICS teamed up with Kara Elizabeth from Team Smile and Nod (check out their music, a really lovely indie-electro queer band) to give away copies of their CD. also taking part is artist Elizabeth Gearheart (blog here) who is giving away, as a prize, a small custom watercolour painting. all of this, i think you will agree, is fucking sweet.

all you gotta do is check out THIS ENTRY. just answer a question in your blogspace of choice, & voila. here is mine:

( queer artist: Indochine )

now you go. you've got until June 28th to enter. go go go! ♥

[ETA] even if you're not entering, PIMP THIS OUT. get the word out on QUEERICS, you guys. it totally deserves attention.

PIMPIN'

the bigbang story i illustrated is up. my art is here if you wanna check it out (& it would be awesome if you did, because i worked way hard on it, & really like how it turned out). i never gave it a title, but 1001cranes called it all the players in the dollhouse which i really like.

the story itself is here, & it's called One More Hand Me Down. i highly recommend you reading it. it's based on the TV show, Dollhouse, but is incredibly enjoyable whether you watch it or not. (i've never seen it, but loved the fic.)

the summary goes: Humans known as Dolls can be implanted with false memories and skills for various jobs, from sex to assassinations. When without an Imprint, they exist in a state of tabula rasa -- a “blank slate” of childlike innocence and naivety. Though Beckett runs the Dollhouse with an iron hand, he has much to contend with: Dolls growing more and more self-aware, a Programmer in love with one of his canvases, a rogue Handler, and a dangerously fragmented Doll intent on destroying the Dollhouse and all those attached to it. MCR, The Used, PATD, FOB, & various TAI/CS

it's wonderfully-written, & has a very emotionally engaging bert/quinn sidestory, which is awesome, because any The Used in fic is fine by me, but the author really does them justice, too. & if i can just get my nerd on for a sec, the whole story is really thinky, & brings up questions about personhood & personality, about how you fall in love & your place in the world. hugely enjoyable, go read read read.

& on the subject of BBB, i got a few other recs - mostly just the ones i've got round to reading so far.

( 3 more fics )

that's it for now. i'm going to go re-read One More Hand Me Down.

from amanda palmer's blog:

"it was also kind of an out-of-the-closet gig for us. we’ve been dating for a while, and while not actually keeping it a shut-up-shut-up secret, we’ve been not advertising it because... errrr, why do that? but it’s at the point where it’s just dumb so: yes. i’m dating neil gaiman. and moreover, he’s dating me. (very handy).

and more than that, i truly love him. i do.

the man makes me so, so, so, so happy. finding someone who understands me... really, really understands me... is a miracle. it’s never been this easy. we don’t need to change each other at all. it may sound absurd but he’s the only man i’ve ever met who’s willing to love me unedited, to take me as i am, completely, utterly. it’s been a bitch of a life, this one, running around and touring and working and trying trying to figure out this job and also trying to find real love that works. it’s near impossible. neil gets it. he gets what i do, he gets who i am, he gets how i work, inside and out, and as my friend anthony would say: he loves me despite knowing me. and i get him. i love every inch of his self. and so that’s that. i think i should keep him around, eh? he can also write, cook, sing, drive stickshift, beekeep and give great neckrubs.

but the man cannot play a tambourine in rhythm to save his LIFE. can’t have it all."

nrrg. not gonna lie, it's kind of awesome. i usually don't really like people dating, because i have issues with people becoming one half of a pair instead of being their own self, but with two such epic, creative, amazing people like this, it's just like doubling the awesome. & if they're happy, then hey. yay. i just hope that having two epic, creative, amazing people like this together doesn't lead to explosiveness & drama. i wish 'em the best. ♥

oh no !!!

ahahaha. i don't really like the new placebo album? it is actually boring me.

i find it funny, or maybe depressing, that i was way more into panic at the fucking disco's album when it came out than this one. WHAT HAPPENED. the question is, have i moved on, or is this album just not that great? i'd like to think that if it were really fucking good, i would still love it, whether i was still crazyobsessed with placebo or not.

you guys who've got it, what do you all think of it? yay or nay?

i don't think the album's shit, or anything. but it's pretty samey - i can't differentiate between songs. it's all chunky guitars & rolling drums & brian going AAAAYYY-EEEE-AAAAAYYYY a lot. i mean, he usually does that, but listening to this, i found myself thinking, jeez, can you please say some words instead of making vowel sounds?

& on the topic of lyrics - did they used to be better, or the same? because i'm finding the lyrics really uninspiring. but the thing with placebo is that they were my first band. brian molko fucking hung the moon in my eyes. i had no real basis for comparison. now, brian seems like a pretty mediocre lyricist. no one should say "you can run, but you cannot hide" in a song, ever. unless it's amongst some really, epically amazing poetry.

( spoilery type thoughts on the album, i suppose )

it's weird, though. it's like i don't really mind that i don't like it that much. i don't feel like placebo owes me anything, or like i'm going to be that bitchy fan going YOU FUCKERS CHANGED DDDDDD: because they seem happy enough doing what they're doing, & people seem to like this new direction or whatever. so i don't even feel disappointed, because it's not like i was counting on placebo for anything. they're not really my life-line band anymore, though i'm still fond of them, obviously. i just don't have a great deal of excitement for this album. it's okay, but that's about it.

ahaha. though they are tattooed twice on me. ah well. memories of life-changing times. :)

- i wonder, sometimes, what it is about the internet that is so important. like, people apparently having The End Is Nigh conversations about the bandslash fandom dying out, & i feel like i should quash this sense of "D:" that bubbles up inside me, because. um. it's bandslash. & the internet. like, there are more important things? but then again - i don't know. i don't want to move on, because that feels a bit like growing up, & that's a tiring prospect.

- i fail at updates because too much stuff has happened, & i really hate doing catch-ups. i went to see counting crows, finally, the rescheduled gig that was cancelled, & it was fucking beautiful. that man speaks every word as truth & shows us every emotion on his face, with his hands, in his voice. at the end of the gig, while the words "just another song about the rain" were tailing away, he looked up towards the lights, squinting, & put his hands out like he was catching the thunderous applause like raindrops, & it was the best fucking thing i'd seen.

- last night was the summer ball. it was a pretty epic affair, 8pm to 6am, across the two quads in the old castle building, dance tents, drink tents, food tents, which were good for brief snatches of time, but to see the main acts (oh, the main acts. alesha dixon & blazin' squad - indeed) we found ourselves in the middle of an uncovered field in the pouring rain, immaculately-styled hair wilting in the damp, bare shoulders under strapless dresses shaking in the night-time cold. it was kind of ridiculous. fun, definitely, but motherfucking shitballs, it was freezing.

(lasted until about 3.30am, then decided to totter, shivering & aching back to the flat, where i spent a good hour or two buried under two duvets, hunched up, trying to get warm & completely failing. chilled to the bone, i was. laura survived the cold to the end, & she called me a total pussy, but i don't care because. cold. that night concluded my week-long stint of falling asleep around 5 or 6 as dawn breaks, & getting four or so hours' sleep, due to pressing engagements like interviews to be done, deadlines to be met, tickets to be ordered & parties to attend. i am burnt out.)

- today was my american grandfather's 80th birthday. the whole extended family was there, as well as friends & neighbours, some who'd flown all the way from america, & thus i had to deal with the typical "i knew you when you were this big" comments that are an integral part of these gatherings where you don't actually remember who the fuck half these people are. i saw my cousins, which was nice, & sang 'let it be' in front of everyone, which was not so nice, because there is a big fucking difference between being onstage in front of a crowd of anonymous faces & standing in a living room full of people staring at you who you're probably related to. it made my granddad happy, though.

- & finally. a) the transphobic dudes on that radio station are cunts, but you all know about that. b) i had to watch the placebo taratata interview through my fingers because things still weird me out & i haven't seen a tv interview with them for years. c) i have a motherbitch of a cold, but it's not surprising after last night's barely-dressed, rainy, night-time madness. d) i got tickets to see the used in august, & i could cry, i am that happy. e) i need to brush my teeth.

think happy thoughts. x

sang my heart out at our leavers' concert without a microphone & am rewarded with a throat ripped raw this morning. said goodbye to all those in the choir, was surprised by the intensity of hugs from people i hardly ever talk to. i rehearse with them every week, sing in front of them, but still can't bring myself to make conversation. socialising fail.

hugs, & fervent encouragement to carry on singing for always. i don't know if i believe compliments like that or not. but i don't not believe. i accept them, i say 'aw, thankyou' but i don't know how to fit that into knowledge. that made more sense in my head.

in bed, now. ill & stuff-headed, choking on pathetic little coughs & feeling distinctly unaware of my nose. had a dream about girls spinning round on ropes, rocks & fish-hooks & broken fingers covered in blood, early-morning bike rides in the french countryside & taking crystal meth in a glass of diet coke. what a mix.

i got standing tickets for placebo at the o2 the other day. sweet. haven't been to a placebo gig since i started going to gigs & wasn't very good at the whole thing. m'a fuckin' pro now. placebo made me think that all gigs were a horrific, unbreathable, uncomfortable crush of teenagers clawing at your scalp. fall out boy made me realise you could actually enjoy a show. & three years down the line, we make the gigs as good as they get through strategic planning & moshpits. score.

anyway. things to do, things to do that i don't like to think about. you do it to yourself, you do.

Sister Cyberspace

it goes like this: a room for one,
a melody tripping over fretless fingers,
& a voice outside the door knocking
against white-washed walls where friendly feet kicked back
during early-morning connections on a sleepless plane.

in the garden birds twitter songs for the sunrise
saying "you're wide awake; us too."
the world keeps spinning on a wild journey through the universe
& half of everybody is missing
held-back, plugged-in, tangled in bedclothes & wires
going nowhere, to nothing, to everyone
in the world.

here, only temporal motion
past 4am & a glassy dawn, stuck between no place, searching
for meaning in monochromatic text
all the angles of the planet
& spacebar, spacebar, spacebar.

it is all a splintering web of lines
hooked to a sunken, bloated mass of silence
that is so very important tonight. tonight
i am the only one
on this side of the morning
on this side of the wall
on this side of the whir-click-tap dancing machine;
alive, or something like it.

you are a million person that i can't touch
a history for the future
& i spill, spill, spill every pulse & written word
to your dearest strangers holding undoable handshakes
who approve of me.

still.
there's nothing like "i love you"
(the most)
from someone to have & to hold right there
a fucking beautiful, tangible mess
of skin & voice, blood & heart--

a someone who will listen, listen, listen
without a scroll button.

fandom's current Hot News; concerning the newest addition to the ballato-way family:

i had a conversation with my flatmate, who has no knowledge of anything bandom-related in the morning, after i heard the news, that went something like this--

i say, "so. you know Gerard, from My Chemical Romance? & his wife Lyn-Z from MSI? they just had their baby."

she looks mildly interested as she makes her tea. "oh really? awesome!"

"yeah, but. they named it Bandit."

she stops what she's doing & turns to me with a monumentally sceptical eyebrow. "Bandit." she pauses. "as in, Smokey And The...?"

i shake my head, despairingly. "knowing them, probably."

*

later on, i call my sister to give her the news. her response?

"BANDIT? that's not a name! that's a profession."

*

& i now have some thoughts on names, babies, fathers & other such related topics:

( without once referring to gway as a daddy )

the end

the ballato-way kid is upon us, it seems.

welcome, Bandit Lee Way.

i do wish people would stop saying 'gerard is a daddy' though. the word 'daddy' gives me the fucking creeps.

i went to see antony & the johnsons tonight. it was beautiful.

[eta] signs point to the kid being a girl. i'm not gonna question my misplaced, probably sexist opinion that 'bandit' really sucks as a name for a boy, but is fucking kick-ass for a girl. instead, i will be content in the knowledge that gway & lynz have a daughter, & that was, selfishly, totally what i wanted.

just finished reading Heaven Help Us, third & final part in bexless' Unholy verse.

um. read it. read all three, if you haven't already.

i have nothing else to say in this entry, because fucking damn. my mind has been blown, & i'm trying to pick up all the bits of brain from the floor.

& now i'm going to try to sleep. & probably fail, because i'm thinking too hard about life.

if i could vomit a diamond into my lap i would rather it was a frog so that i would have company from something uglier than me. he would be small & would fit in the palm of my hand, belching flies out on his sticky tongue & oozing stagnant water through slime-slick pores. i would say to him "you can't buy me love, but you'll bring me no trouble." & he would blink, slowly, with wet eyes, & contemplate my big face silently, wondering if i'm his master, his maker, or just another goddamn lily pad in his river.

okay, so everything i know about american idol i learnt from my flist, so i'm not totally au fait with the whole thing (who's winning, who's in the final, etc). all i know is that everyone is very excited about a sexually ambiguous guy with black hair who wears makeup, sometimes dresses in drag, & is faggy as hell.

now, if mikey way just twittered saying "did gee's stunt double win american idol?" does that mean that mikey way is essentially saying his brother is a sexually ambiguous guy with black hair who wears makeup, sometimes dresses in drag, & is faggy as hell?

because. that is awesome. (also, clearly true.)

in other news, i went to london, spent the evening in a tiny club with live music, & was generally very uncool in a world of stunning musicians with turquoise dreads & eyeliner. seriously, a place like that, & i'm all "damn, i am not cool after all." it was lovely, though. & someone tied some flowers to my bag while i was watching the band. strange, & nice.

tomorrow, back to london to see motherfuckig counting crows. a band i love, a band i admire, but a band that, somehow, i never thought i'd get to see. they're too epic & beautiful to occur in a sweaty venue with elbows digging into your back. they exist in cd players & videos, in a kind of mysterious, unreachable way. except, tomorrow, they will be in brixton, & i will see them. i am so very much looking forward to this.

time now to continue listening to indochine. oh, that band. republique des meteors is a brilliant, beautiful album, & no matter how old he gets, nicola sirkis will still write queer little songs about cross-dressing. ♥

defriending amnesty day! evening. early morning?

so, nothing personal. just, f-list got too much to scroll through. the people who stayed: i have known you for a long time or we talk with some frequency or i have a creepy interest in you & want to keep reading about your life.

don't want it to be a big deal or nothin'. defriend at will, etc etc.