MONSTA

so, i was making random observations, as i often do, and i realised how almost all boy bands seem to follow a certain formula. theres always at least four to a band, and they often stand in choreographed arrangements designed to make them look effortlessly cool when in fact they kind of appear to be robotic and trying really, really hard. still, you have to love them for it. another commonly recurring feature of the boy band is that there is always at least one member with a trademark hat, goatee or both.

additionally (however less often than the hat/goatee combo) two guys that look so similar they could be brothers (this is usually the case), a bald guy that happens to pull it off, and the edgy, slightly more attractive (in a rough and rugged way) guy that has the rap in the middle of the song. this guy is often the 'bad boy' of the band, the member who enjoys the largest fanbase of swooning tweenage girls who believe that instead of the womanising, bad-language using, drug-taking scumbag that he probably is in real life, he is simply 'misunderstood', and that they are 'the only one who understands him', therefore they are 'destined to be together'. furthermore, other common features of the boyband are as follows:

all-white matching outfits that are frequently worn while the band is walking sillhouetted against the setting sun carrying single white roses
synchronised dance moves
THAT sexy brushing back of a lock of overconditioned hair that is so silky that it falls sexily back into place over a pair of piercing blue/smouldering dark eyes
the cute shrug/head tilt
a seedy wink that leads aforementioned tweenage fans to believe that the winker is in love with them, resulting in squealing/swooning/decieving their parents to run off and marry said winker, only to discover about fifty thousand other girls with the same plan in mind
perfectly computer-generated harmonised vocals
matching outfits always/each band member has a 'unique' style of dress that appears across a myriad of music videos, red-carpet appearances and concerts in not-so-original variations

etc etc

i could go on all day.

but, despite this lack of originality and any long-lasting talent, deep down every one of us nurses a soft spot for such boy bands, with their catchy tunes and overcompensation in the way of scantily clad, leggy dancers in attempt to cover up the fact that they're all gay.
because really, they're a part of our naive days, before we discovered the rest of the music world, and they're also good to dance along to and relive the innocent days.

wishful thinking...

is that not the most delectable thing you've ever seen? *sigh*

Raspberry Tartlets

i somehow feel as though a curtain has fallen between me and everything i used to know...as though i'm being distanced from my friends and family, a wall's gone up and i don't know when it did, i think i was too wrapped up in things that only matter temporarily to notice. that's sad, and i wish i could go back and do things differently. but i can't, no-one can, because time is not a friend and it won't wait around for you to catch up. clocks have always seemed sinister in my eyes, unfriendly, intimidating even. the sound of a ticking clock is a haunting one, which i've never enjoyed, and i can't sleep if i can hear that constant 'tick, tick, tick' near me, ticking away seconds and minutes and hours that i'll never get back. i seem to be caught in some kind of bubble of lethargy, drifting around as though in a dreamworld, reality never quite real, and my imagination has let me down dreadfully of late. maybe i have the mean reds...perhaps i need to just put on my sunday face and get on with it.

"I get along, just singin' my song, people tell me i'm wrong..."





"...f**k 'em."

are The Libertines not great?

but i don't believe in fairytales anymore...

i'm tired of crying over you.

squashing grapes

just when things start to get better...they get worse.
maybe i should try writing a letter, it may be theraputic, who knows?
*deep breath* here goes...

To Whom it may concern,
(although really, thats a stupid way to start a letter to the person i wish to write it to, seeing as they're really not that concerned.)
i can't blame you, and yet i want to. you have no idea how i feel, totally clueless.
which i suppose is the way i want it, and i can change that anytime i want.
but i won't. we both know that.
even you know there's something i'm not telling you, and i know i promised i would one day,
but i don't think i can. i'll have to, because i hate breaking promises. but really, who knows what will happen if i told you? i can make a pretty good guess. you'll say it's fine, maybe even apologise (what for, i don't know. you like apologising). but we will both know it's not fine. things will change, you'll start acting weird around me. i'll withdraw, in response to you withdrawing (not that i can blame you). and i'll recoil into a conch of dark thoughts, i'll spiral into a horrible depressed state, cry when i'm alone and put on a brave face when i'm not. i won't tell anyone what's bothering me, but i'll be dying inside.
and you'll feel confused, maybe a little weirded out. you might even feel enlightened, like 'oh so that's what's been going on with her'. in the long run though, you'll probably just disappear from my life. and i'll lose my best friend.
the other option is, don't tell you, keep you around, and wonder when this is going to end.
well that's the end of my little rant.
i guess it helped some.
i'm going to try and be less pathetic now.
silent screaming is good.

*sigh* one day i'll meet my Johnny Castle....
or, not.
we'll see.