George is getting married.

(Remember George? If not, check my archives.)

No offence, but to me people getting married – especially before their 30s- make me think of all those people from my hometown who never really left and are happy with a factory job and reproducing every 2 or 3 years. Or there’s the kind of crazy person who meet and live a passionate affair and wed after 3 months, to live a dramatic relationship, ending up in a divorce before they reach their 2nd anniversary.

So I was wondering : why would someone of our *kind* - the normal one, obviously : educated, carreer-aimed or such - would want to get married?
What’s the point in it? The only advantage I can see in getting married is paying less taxes than when you’re single.

Apart from that, I have to admit that I don’t believe in life-long relationships. Forever love and the dreamy tales we’ve been fed with are not reality. Love always fades away, hidden behind a routine (children, work...) or simply by boredom. You will always meet an old couple who’s been together for more than 60 years and still hold hands and adore each other – but they’re one in a million. I have a tendency to rather believe in divorce rates and the hatred that can emerge from what was once a healthy relationship.

Moreover, even if I’m a Christian and have been baptized as a Catholic, I’ve never been a religious person. I don’t agree with the Christian view of relationships and marriage. Last year, I attended one of my BFF’s wedding and the church part was nerve-wrecking for me. I could have burst out loud after every word the priest said. Even though my friend, being actually sterile, told him not to mention having children in their soon future as a couple, the priest didn’t drop the matter and even emphasized the subject by pleading S and R to welcome the children God would send them. I am not sterile, but I don’t want children, and if I’d found myself in S’s position that day, I could have just stormed off the church.

Last but not the least, whats the problem with leaving with someone for years without being engaged in some ways? Why would I feel threatened if my boyfriend hasn’t proposed yet?

I care for him, he cares for me.
What could be more important than this?

Being A Music Journo

Don't / Look / Back
Dumb / Ass /Punks
Sex / Priests / Overdosed
It's / Like / Jazz
Ringo / Vs / McCartney
Finnish / Shoegaze / Mafia
Mess / Your / Self
Jesus / Loves / Heroin
Survivors / Of / Britpop
Muuuum / Shut / Up!
Boys / Make / Filth
Awesome / Dog / Meat
Noel / Loves / Paul
Boys / Boys / Boys
Let's / Dance / Bitch

TEAM EDWARD? TEAM JACOB?

Who cares?
Don't you all know she's hooking up with the vampire?!!?!???

Anti-groupie

When will the old groupie cliché die?
Yes, I'm a girl; yes, I love rock bands; yes, I do love concerts and seeing guys sweating on stage.
Does that mean I'd have sex with them?....Err...Let's say if I get to know one of them, and we end up fancying each other (a bit like in Camp Rock - ah! the lolz)), why not? But, more to the point : NO. I would NEVER have a quick shag backstage or in a tourbus.
Where would my self-esteem -and my rock chick credibility- would lay, then? (answer : in a dirty bunk bed in a tourbus).

Moreover, people have to be aware of the plague that is the male groupie phenomena : they're even crazier & nfreakier. Believe me, I used to know one (Ben, this one is for you).

So, don't ever tell me I'm a groupie = the last one who did got my beer right in his stupid face. And he was in a band himself. There.

Why I dont like (big) Festivals

“We come to another gate, endure more negociations, and then we’re on the site proper, driving past rows of tents. Scumbags and jizz-buckets sit around their tents drinking Stella and Woodpecker and Christ knows what.

I do not understand the festival experience. These people we’re driving through, they fought to get in there. They think they’re lucky. They spent hours on the phone/net trying to get tickets, happily having paid hundreds of pounds for a pair - when they managed to find some. Now they’re celebrating being here, celebrating the fact that they can lie around in urine-flavoured mud drinking warm lager and eating burgers while fucking Cast knock out their greatest huts in the distance.”

John Niven, “Kill your friends”.

This exact time last year, I was going back to France to go through what would be one of the hardest time in my life.
Now it seems I'm back on track.
Butthe smallest thing can make me drown again.

I will be strong.

Wathever you think of me, you'll always be far away from the truth. even you, Alskling. But we're good.

Black Dog

that creeps inside me when I open my eyes. When I’m indoors whereas the sun is shining outside. When I feel I shouldnt be so much on my own. When I try to find sleep at night and dream away my insecurities.

“Think back to the saddest you’ve ever felt, take away the sadness and leave the bewildering hollow agony. Then make that happen every day. Each morning my head felt as it was wrapped in cotton wool. There was also a strange feeling like I was in a glass cage and all my emotions had been suspended for a moment, before slowly sinking in again. Everything felt artificial. Often I’d feel irrational tweaks of despair for no reason during normal conversations, like I wasn’t meant to be there.” - Kat.

“With such heavy limbs and a foggy head, even ont step was difficult. Once up all I wanted to do was to go back to bed. But however long I slept I never felt refreshed. My attention span vanished, I couldnt follow a conversation. Depression meant I had no goal, no ambition. Now sometimes I am really good, other days the anxiety comes back.” - Stacey

Louise Bourgeois

RIP.
Goodbye, *auntie*.