tea leaves

I've been drinking a lot of tea lately. I used to be a coffee drinker, but after going to Europe and drinking Italian espressos, nothing else seems to cut it. Plus coffee often makes me feel sick. Also I've been lacking in motivation for study, and tea sometimes helps with that. I have a great one called "refresh" which my friend gave me for my birthday. And a green tea with strawberries in it, which is full of caffiene as well as being delish.



I've also been watching The Mighty Boosh, hence the picture. "Howard and Vince are in danger - it's written in the tea leaves!" Classic Naboo.

Reading tea leaves is a funny thing. So arbitrary, really. But on the other hand, random pseudo-psychic things like that can sometimes be revealing. A friend of mine used to have these little cards with words printed on them, and you were meant to pick 5 out and they would tell you stuff about your life. It was all chance, obviously, but we had some great conversations from it. The words were often just enough to trigger a thought or feeling we'd had but haven't been able to put into words. So it's not really psychic, but it can still tell you something about yourself.

Anyway, back to study.

couch surfing

I've been looking for a place to live. It's pretty fun really. Looking up houses online. Going to inspections. Weighing up the pros and cons. Big bedrooms, tiny kitchen. Close to uni, not enough windows. Cheap rent, no heating.

My future housemates and I have only a few criteria. Bedrooms must be big enough for a double bed, wardrobe, and a desk. Kitchen must have enough bench space so we can create vegetarian feasts. The laundry needs to fit a washing machine and dryer, cos one of my housemates scored a set off her grandparents.

I have one or two criteria of my own. I want the house to have some kind of quirk. We looked at one that had a random little nook built into the wall at about head height. I've no idea what it was designed for, but I liked it. Another one had a hollywood star in the middle of the bathroom floor. I'm also a fan of walk in pantries, of which we've seen a few.

Anyway, I keep thinking of this song by Darren Hanlon. I think it's fitting.

Well I haven't paid rent in a month or more
I'm couch surfing
And I don't have a key cause I don't have a door
I'm couch surfing
I'm not taking calls
I'm between houses

Of my material possessions I've lost track
I didn't need them
Everything I need fits in my backpack
I call it freedom
A pair of jeans some shirts and a guitar lead
A toothbrush, socks and a paperback reader
All the rest is what's hanging off of me
I'm not answering questions
I'm between houses

Outside the night is cold and stormy
And you blew up the air mattress for me
We'll talk all night like an open book
And I'll sleep on every breath you took
Before you leave I'll sneak a look up at you

But there's an old saying that could bare retelling
When you're couch surfing:
'the guest should leave before the fish starts smelling'
When your couch surfing
It's romantically existential
To reduce your life to the bare essentials
All that which is inconsequential guides me

But this whole theory really depends
On whether or not you've got good friends
And all this weightlessness the philosophers preach
Reduces you to societies leach
But tonight I've landed on my feet
I'm still one friend away from the bum on the street
And I've used up all my good will vouchers
On every single friend with couches
It won't be long before they'll ask me to leave
It's time I cut myself some keys
Give me a pen I'll sign a lease and go get me a home

given time

I wrote this song about a year ago and I'd almost forgotten about it until I discovered it in my trusty book of songs. (It's not a particularly long book, and half of it is blank pages I've left in the hope that I'll be overcome with lyrical inspiration sometime in the future and finish what I've started. I ususally don't. But nevertheless.) It's kind of a combination of things I was wondering about for fun, and stuff I was wondering about for my philosophy class.

I seem to blog a fair bit about philosophy. I guess it's the subject that manages to interest me above and beyond whatever piece of assessment I have due. Actually that's not true. My other classes do as well, to an extent, although it's mainly a negative one. I've recently been obsessed with a comment someone made in a Political Economy tute last week implying that AIDs was a good thing because it would counter over-population in Africa; I can't stop talking about what a douche this guy is! But that's not so interesting to write about.

Anyway, in true philosophical style, the questions in the song remain questions; I don't know if I have answers for all of them just yet. But still - they're interesting to think about.


Does it still count as being in love if I thought it at the time but have since changed my mind?
What is love, if not the strongest feeling you can feel for a person at a given time
Even if, given time you change your mind?

What is time if not the gradual changes in the light as night turns into day and day turns into night?
Tiny particles reverberate and penetrate the endless empty spaces between me and the edge of time
Even if, the edge of time is only in my mind

And what's my mind if not the stream of images and thoughts that have crossed it since the beginning of my life?
Imagination, concentration, perceieved reality, and memory, and all the bits and pieces that are mine
Even if, given time I lose my mind

Does it still count as being in love if I thought it at the time but have since changed my mind?
What is love, if not the strongest feeling you can feel for a person at a given time
Even if, given time you change your mind?

Given time . . .

hallelujah

I heard there was a secret chord that David played and it pleased the Lord
But you don't really care for music
Do you?


Dear Leonard Cohen,

Why did you write such a beautiful song for someone who doesn't "care for music"?

That is all.

thinking about thinking

I was watching a friend's band last week when it suddenly occured to me how rarely I listen to music. That feels like an odd statement, coming from someone who constantly has music playing no matter what I'm doing - in fact, the only times I turn it off are when I'm watching TV, or making music of my own - but it's always the background. Listening to music isn't what I'm doing, it's just incidental. I hardly ever put a song on, sit down, and just listen. I used to. I remember listening to whole albums from end to end without doing anything else at all, but I lost that ability to be still and listen somewhere amidst the busyness of life.

Anyway, this got me thinking about thinking. I tend to avoid letting my mind roam free. Mainly because, I think, for a few years I couldn't trust it not to lead me places I didn't want to go. But now it's such a strong habit to always be distracting myself that I can't let go and just think about whatever comes into my head.

There are a few places where still can, though. Usually whilst doing tasks that require very little brain energy. Like showering. Or driving. Or watching a gig. I'm stuck in one place until I finish whatever it is I'm doing, with little for my mind to do but wonder. And consequently, a large proportion of my songs are written in these places. The shower. Behind the wheel. At gigs. I've always noticed this, but never really thought about why.

steep street

I took this photo in Montemart, Paris. It's my favourite photo from my favourite part of Paris. Thought I'd post it.

motivation

I struggle to get motivated, a lot of the time. I procrastinate. Obsessively. It's actually got to stage where I feel like I can't study if my room is messy, because I associate studying with a clean room thanks to years of cleaning to procrastinate. And it's not that I'm disorganised. I have two 50% essays and a take home exam to complete this weekend, and I've known they were coming for months. I've even been trying to work on the essays for the past few weeks. I've been thinking about them, and worrying about them, but I've done hardly any work on them.

And I'm actually starting to think that my motivation issues are the last bastille of my depression. I've had it for years, and I keep it mostly under control these days. But maybe this is the area where it still gets me. Motivation. Because I actually quite like my classes. Human Rights and Global Justice. Ethical Theory. Media, Politics and Society. Even the names are distinctly identifiable as things that interest me. (I actually do four subjects, but the last one I find so incredibly tiresome that it's not even worth posting here. I'm only taking it cos I think it'll be good for me.)

Anyway, perhaps I shouldn't be so hard on myself when it comes to study. I've got into the habit lately of handing things in a day or two late. They only take away 2% per day for most of my subjects, and I work much better when I know something's due but I don't have to stress about getting it done on time. Unfortunately, the work I have at the moment will probably take more than a day or two to complete. Hence my motivation struggles today.

But at the same time, I wonder. How different can I really claim to be? Everyone has issues, whether they be based in personality, learned habits, or so called 'mental illness'. This is the ADHD generation, after all. My motivation issues are no more legitimate than anyone else's. Maybe I should just stop making excuses and get back to work.

(Interestingly, my boyfriend sent me this article today. Scary.)