Monday, April 19, 2010

White Lies

So at university we have to do these borderline hippy/self finding units in order to pass our degree. For one I had to write a 500 word short story on a real life experience. This seemed fine as I decided to go with a night that happened at the start of the year. 

As I was writing details became more and more juicy to the point I had to step back and look at this from my tutor's perspective. Boy, oh boy would she think I was a whore! So I slowly started to twist things until it somehow changed from a story about me slutting it out with this famous lead singer to some feminist stand about how all guys are chauvinistic pricks. 

I thought I'd copy it to here as it made me think how people feel the need to brag but only to the point where it keeps themselves looking good?

‘Typical Saturday night!” She thought as she wandered through her routine night out. “Same place, same music, same stereotypical indie,” and it bored her. Even her friends seemed to have grown old to this place resorting back to  the average clubs leaving her alone with very few friends. “Ah the bar, the only one that understands me,” Holly thought as she struggled through the crowd to be reunited with her long lost love. She stood there ordered her drink, when a boy caught her eye. He was familiar, but somehow didn’t fit in. Recognizing strangers was not new to Holly after all alcohol was both friend and foe, with which she constantly struggled. He saw her looking and decided to approach her without hesitation.

He was skinny, pale, with a slight gap in his two front teeth and was donning a buttoned up chequered shirt. Such confidence was not normally held in boys of such description and this intrigued Holly so she waited. “Hi I’m Nic,” he said hand out to shake. The sight of a boy in a nightclub offering a hand shake made Holly scoff, but she shook it anyway, after all the usual had began to bore her. They began to talk and Holly grew more and more intrigued by this strange boy. He was mature yet, held the typical stature of a boy no older than twenty.

The night drew on and Holly and Nic continued to drink and talk and were joined by Nic’s friends an odd mix of old and young all wearing attire quite not like the rest of regular attendees of such nightclub.  They were from Melbourne and Holly coulnt help but ask why they were in boring old Perth, “Err, we’re kind of famous, we’ve been touring around a bit” said the oldest Neil. It all made sense, yet Holly was not fazed, she had been searching for something to mix things up and these guys seemed to fit. So the night went on with rampant discussions of everything from coffee to clothes to the fierce taste in music. Holly felt at one and it made sense to go back with the band after the night had ended, the ample amount of alcohol in her system seemed to agree.

They arrived at the hotel and continued to drink from the mini bar. Holly was at first hesitant over the silly idea of how the mini bar was ridiculously overpriced, but when the rest drank freely she began to feel at home. “So this is the life of a rock star” she thought not bothering to mix the spirits, nor pour it into a glass. Nic approached’ her laughing at her ability to outdrink, not only him, but the rest of the band. “I don’t normally bring girls back to the hotel room, looks like your one of us now,” taking her hand and leading her into his bedroom. Holly wondered if that was a lie, “surely they had groupies?”.

The thought quickly left her as Nic began to kiss her neck to which she knew what came next. He undressed and Holly drunkenly resorted back to her routine in which she so much despised. He was kind and gentle but, just like the others after the same thing. He was famous, wealthy, the world at his finger tips, yet still after the same thing and this made Holly come to a halt. The night had been like no other until that very point and Holly realised she wanted to keep it that way. She abruptly stopped what she was doing, dressed and kissed Nic goodnight, walking away from a rock star.

p.s Names of course changed

p.p.s. I didn't leave in real life but rather it ended with me doing a 10am dash out of the hotel lobby shoes in hand and dressed in the night before's clothes dignity left some where in the hotel room.

Thursday, April 15, 2010

Prejudice Blogging

So I thought seeing though I wrote a somewhat sucessful music blog I may as well delve deeper and let everyone know every tiny skirmish details of my life..or maybe just something that happened?
 Blogs seem to be some sort of self help really and after all my university units on the internet nothings seems sacred so hey-yooo Ive jumped on the bandwagon.

A lot of people feel blogs are a way of them expressing their deepest thoughts without being judged. THIS IS A LIE. you are being judged maybe even more so in real life as people on this thing don't know you they can't see you or the matter of your makeup that stands before them, similar to when they meet someone in person or even a stranger who walks by. You could decorate your profile in fluorescent pink with flowers and rainbows but in real life be suicidal and into heavy metal. The appearance of your blog doesn't have to reflect the real you but that just means the fake you is being judged instead. 

Its human instinct to judge on appearances, you don't need to be a professor to know this. You see red you feel anger or passion, you see yellow you feel happy, black-darkness, green-envy or nature (although green can tend to have a calming affect as well). It even comes down to the simple choice of font, italics, bold, sans serifs, serifs, whether you choose to colour your font or centre it, it all changes the way people look at your blog. So the way i see it every little decision to be made on a blog adds one more thing to be judged. By saying this if blogs were to be plain black and white without pictures or formatting, you will still be judged, AS BEING BORING! or maybe creating the presumption you are writing a serious blog?

Remaining anonymous doesnt help either, it rather builds a false sense of sercurity. "they don't know who I am therefore opinions formed are based solely on what I write" this is true, but an person looking to read indie blogs will look for things such as abstract alternative layouts, or bloggers with common interest or photographs and/or entries on things they find interesting.

I myself judge blogs according to first appearances. If I click to a blog with a boring title, I won't read it. if I click to a blog with a layout with things everywhere and more colours than a rainbow, I won't read it. People read blogs to be informed and by choosing which blogs they do and don't read you are being judgemental.

By saying this my blog is black, I am not emo, or full of hate (which may well have been assumed from the above), I simply chose black as I'm new and yet to change it to something more suiting and I find black to be a more interesting choice than white or some generic colour palette made available to everyone. But judge away bloggers and see if anyone chooses to read this to prove my point :)