Otherwordly

Otherwordly
Showing posts with label language. Show all posts
Showing posts with label language. Show all posts

Thursday, 22 January 2015

I have a flesh coloured tattoo..

"I drew it myself. You should see it sometime, if only you could see it (it’s invisible)."


I am a ghost, no word of a lie.  I'm not a ghost in the typical sense since I am alive,but I do appear to be invisible. The reason for this, let me explain. You see, there have been times when I spend my Thursday or Friday nights out socializing with staff or friends and they have all accused me the day after for not being there. They could have a full blown conversation, but would not remember it the next day. 

A similar thing had happened recently. Now I'm not sure how I feel about it. Yes, I laughed it off and was dubbed the 'ghost' but it's starting to wear me down. Am I really that bad at company that I don't make a lasting impression on anyone?  All I know is, that besides this little setback, I am still having fun. Last week had been a blast though; accidentally spilling drinks, getting wasted and dancing the night away.  I even found a small gap in my schedule to write something. It was during my writing night out that I had been asked if I had written anything on the local band and it got my brain working over-time. Why had I not wrote anything about them? I normally write about every local band I listen to. Was I that scared to erase the memory of the last band? Was I refusing to write a piece in the hope that they would never be as good as the previous? Whatever the reason, I feel as though I need to do a segment now. 

Bolt. My initial reaction was that of shock. I hear about them during my summer vacation period. All that was running through my mind when I heard their name was the Miley Cyrus movie with the superstar dog of the same name. Clearly, I had been hanging around children for too long. Yes I was being judgmental; I was yet to here them play and I was still getting used to the idea of a band change. As I have said before, I don't do particularly well with change unless I have control over the situation. I wasn't that nice in my thoughts either. However, once I heard them play the first night I was back in Al Ain, it was nice having that change in music. I became accustomed to listening to the same playlist every Thursday night. I even knew what song would come next. What really surprised me was the change in instruments! I had been told it would be a fun set but I never really expected it to be so. One change was the removal of the Bassist and the introduction of a keyboard player. That was better for me personally. Another, was the saxophone - rather refreshing if I'm honest!

The track-listing had changed too! I heard through the grapevine that they had been told not to play certain songs. It was rather nice to sing a particular song that you hadn't listened to in a while. The band members themselves came from all corners of the globe and brought with them their own personality. 
The band members have now changed. A new line up for the new year. In all honesty they seem to fit better together now. 

I would like to write more about this band but I simply do not have the inspiration anymore. Even my Saturday night routine has flown out of the window and would rather spend the night sleeping. I guess I lack my muse; the banter and distractions must have provided me with some ability to override the writers block I currently have. 

On that note, I will try to write something again soon. My mind is not used to storing all this useless drabble. 

Sunday, 9 October 2011

How Shakespearean Am I?

Well after getting successfully distracted from my Irish Poetry essay, I had stumbled across this little weird test thing on Oxford online Dictionary (at least I was sidetracked to something educational).
If you type in a song or poem, or perhaps a phrase of your own everyday language you will receive a percentage of how Shakespearean you are. So I decided to have a go. This was my first entry:
The lone quiet riparian holds the beauty of youth long lost
Smiles and laughter echo faintly
Flowing through blankets of snowdrops, cowslips all glossed.
Tears so fragile and dainty
Fall from the children mourning for their past
With a Faery hand in hand,
Cries stream from small eyes, pain so grand.

(my own poem)
The result was 90% Shakespearean. It also asked if I lived in Rose Theatre.

I can see what I shall be doing all night :)