So just a few quick updates on my life as of currently. I'm moving!!! Wooooo!!! Moving into a friends place in the city. (Hopefully) Gotta meet with the landlord. Considering recent events between this landlords-wife and her. Shit went down and I don't know how its going to go considering friend has to talk to with the landlord about me moving in. So! It's all up in the air and I need to know within a week to organise me moving down. It's a freaking hassle and I want it to be done now.
Anyway. I have not a lot else to say. So I'll go for now, hope things are better in the morning, and I'm not so scattered.
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Friday, September 10, 2010
Hungry Hungry Hippo...I mean Games... (My pick of Book of the Year.)
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Hunger Games - Suzanne Collins
So...this book... Buy it now.
Look, I don't normally recommend books. Because I like to think that people are smart enough to tell a good book from a great book. To be honest, I didn't think I'd like this either. I picked it up in the 10 to 12 year old section at the local Target. Glanced at the cover, which is NOT the cover up there, its something a little more childish, roamed my eyes over the recommendation from Stephanie Meyer, (The WORST Author in todays publishing world.)...(I mean honestly, if SHE can get published, monkeys with feces-pens and using banana-leafs as paper can get published.)... Okay done... I was skeptical to say the least. I flipped it over, read the blurb which was minimal at best. Then saw Stephen Kings recommendation and thought, *Well that's conflicting...* Then, checked the price, bought it and thank GOD I did.
It's honestly a great read. Captivating, not whiny or self-indulgent. It tells a rather cinematic story and I can't believe it hasn't been noted for the excellence it is. I mean sure it should be classified as YA (Young Adult) fiction. But the story is quite mature and somewhat violent in places.
A quick summary: Katniss Everdeen is a young teenage girl living in a rundown coal mining district. District 12. There were 13 Districts and then The Capitol, after a rebellion years ago, the Capitol destroyed District 13 and as punishment to the rest of the Districts, they created the Hunger Games, where they pick 1 Boy and 1 Girl from each district, stick em in an arena and then tell them go kill each other. Last Wo/Man standing wins a great prize. Katniss goes into it. And we follow her throughout the Hunger Games.
It's a Trilogy and I recently picked up Catching Fire, the second of the series, Picture below...
Again a fantastic addition. The story doesnt slow down as much as you think it would throughout a trilogy. So yeah,
Go Buy this Book NOW!!
It recieves the coveted. Book of the Year award from me.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
To the Man on the Tram.
I don't know how to start this.
Your name eludes me. For I never asked it and I wished I had. Your image is burned in my mind and I can't shake it. You sat across from me on the Number 75 Tram running from Spencer St Station to Vermont South. And I believe you got on at stop Number 63, getting off at stop number 40.
I feel like an ass, like I'm just latching on for the sake of it. But something about this made me stir. Made me feel different, I don't know if you felt the same, or feel it now. But I think I would like to meet you, to understand you and who you are and where you came from and what you do. I don't expect anything to happen now. I had my chance and I ignored it thinking I was being foolish in my hopes.
I think that changed the moment we played the smile game. The game where if you connect eyes with someone more than 5 times and you smile on the 6th and they smile back, then it keeps happening. Then there's something there.
I dunno. I just think that perhaps. I'll see you again, and if that does infact happen then I assure you. I shall say something. I promise myself, and you. I promise that I will fight the urge to flee and fight the stuttering speech and the stuttering heart. This I promise.
Until I see you next, Man on the Tram.
- Matt.
Your name eludes me. For I never asked it and I wished I had. Your image is burned in my mind and I can't shake it. You sat across from me on the Number 75 Tram running from Spencer St Station to Vermont South. And I believe you got on at stop Number 63, getting off at stop number 40.
I feel like an ass, like I'm just latching on for the sake of it. But something about this made me stir. Made me feel different, I don't know if you felt the same, or feel it now. But I think I would like to meet you, to understand you and who you are and where you came from and what you do. I don't expect anything to happen now. I had my chance and I ignored it thinking I was being foolish in my hopes.
I think that changed the moment we played the smile game. The game where if you connect eyes with someone more than 5 times and you smile on the 6th and they smile back, then it keeps happening. Then there's something there.
I dunno. I just think that perhaps. I'll see you again, and if that does infact happen then I assure you. I shall say something. I promise myself, and you. I promise that I will fight the urge to flee and fight the stuttering speech and the stuttering heart. This I promise.
Until I see you next, Man on the Tram.
- Matt.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Weight Loss, The New It Thing.
I've always been a big kid. The size of at least two average guys put together. Well thats not true, I'm 6ft 1in and WAS 95KG My max, in my haydays of weight gain, was just under 100KG. With little to zero muscle on my body I was *in my eyes* a blob. So I tried a multitude of fad diets, protein shakes and all that, meal replacements and so on and so forth.
But it brings me to now. I've always had these little spells of, "I'm just cuddly." And I make peace with my body. It last for a few days but eventually I'll spot a guy who is fit and I'll think "Wow, I'm totally attracted to him." Which inevitably brings on that feeling of "Well, if I'm attracted to him because of his shape, what must guys think of me?" It's a huge self-esteem issue too, I was picked on because of my size in primary school. And eventually with all these thoughts I figured. Fuck it, I'll just do the hard work.
So I used the exercise bike and my weights *gift for christmas* and I couldn't see much difference. But, about a month ago. My Mom bought Wii-Fit. And I decided to give it a go. I went from my 95KG to a 89.5KG in a few short weeks.
I haven't done anything differently, aside from change a couple of eating habits and here I am. A much more confident me, ALTHOUGH I would like to point out that my goal is 84KG Then I shall be happy. I hope. Heh.
Anyway, I guess what I want to say, is that it's not impossible, there are no quick fixes to weight issues. I mean, you can try the fad diets, Which do work. But once you're off them? What happens? You don't magically learn to eat less. If you want real results, get active, go for a walk everyday, dont eat less, or more just eat smarter. Get a gym membership, buy a treadmill DO SOMETHING.
They say 30 minutes of exercise a day is enough to lose weight. Providing you eat properly.
Nothing worth having comes that easy, and something like this? It's going to take a lot of work.
So get out there, get active and have fun, I didn't think I'd enjoy exercise and sure somedays I just don't want to do it. But most of the time, I feel twenty times better for doing something instead of just gorging myself.
But it brings me to now. I've always had these little spells of, "I'm just cuddly." And I make peace with my body. It last for a few days but eventually I'll spot a guy who is fit and I'll think "Wow, I'm totally attracted to him." Which inevitably brings on that feeling of "Well, if I'm attracted to him because of his shape, what must guys think of me?" It's a huge self-esteem issue too, I was picked on because of my size in primary school. And eventually with all these thoughts I figured. Fuck it, I'll just do the hard work.
So I used the exercise bike and my weights *gift for christmas* and I couldn't see much difference. But, about a month ago. My Mom bought Wii-Fit. And I decided to give it a go. I went from my 95KG to a 89.5KG in a few short weeks.
I haven't done anything differently, aside from change a couple of eating habits and here I am. A much more confident me, ALTHOUGH I would like to point out that my goal is 84KG Then I shall be happy. I hope. Heh.
Anyway, I guess what I want to say, is that it's not impossible, there are no quick fixes to weight issues. I mean, you can try the fad diets, Which do work. But once you're off them? What happens? You don't magically learn to eat less. If you want real results, get active, go for a walk everyday, dont eat less, or more just eat smarter. Get a gym membership, buy a treadmill DO SOMETHING.
They say 30 minutes of exercise a day is enough to lose weight. Providing you eat properly.
Nothing worth having comes that easy, and something like this? It's going to take a lot of work.
So get out there, get active and have fun, I didn't think I'd enjoy exercise and sure somedays I just don't want to do it. But most of the time, I feel twenty times better for doing something instead of just gorging myself.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Monologue
Parenthesis = Stage Direction. As it’s written for a stage production.
(A boy is partially obscured by a single spotlight, his body half in and half out.)
”It’s hard being me. Everything has become like a routine.”
”Admittedly, it wasn’t so predictable to begin with and I thrived on that ‘new’ and ‘exciting’ feel. But after a while things slowed down and that life I had was replaced by a dull repeating cycle. Especially because nothing after the day I came out was ever again as turbulent as that moment and the ensuing months.”
”You see, being trapped beneath an oppressive umbrella that is the ‘gay’ label; lead to some startling truths that I discovered of myself. I struggled at first because the expectation of my behavior that filtered down through the media and directly into the minds of my generation was not one I felt I associated with.”
(Pause as the young man steps into the light completely.)
I wasn’t feminine, or masculine. I didn’t like the color pink nor did I play sport. So what was I? I suffered long and hard over that question. But I was sure of one thing; I would never lose myself.”
”Eventually as I came to accept myself, my friends and family did too. I was told many, many times that I didn’t look ‘like one of those fags.’ It was as if no one had considered the possibility of a gay man that didn’t look like a more humanly proportioned and anatomically correct Ken Doll”
(He smiles and walks over to a lone bookcase and pulls out a photo album.)
But this isn’t about those people. They don’t matter, those people who can’t get over it don’t matter to me.
(Pause.)
There’s something about the camaraderie that comes with being gay. The topics are different, the conversations themselves are different. Straight people do not get it; Bi-Sexual’s definitely do not get it. Parents and Family in general do not get it. There’s a closeness, and I guess it helps to survive, well…that, and humor. We pride ourselves on our condescending and narcissistic wit. It’s our shell, our wall from the outside world and their attacks.”
(Young man snaps book shut and sits on the floor, his chin resting on his knees)
”I wasn’t fast enough to build that wall, that separation of emotions from reality. And if you don’t learn that, the anger and the hate that’s directed at you…It will eat you alive.
(Boy shuts eyes, sighs once and then stands to lean against the bookcase. The single spotlight splits into four shining on a square, each spot colored differently. One blue, one green, one red and one yellow.)
Those words, the slander, the insults, they don’t go anywhere; they stay in your head and echo.
(The blue spotlight shines brighter. And a voice calls out)
‘Stay the hell away from me you fag!’
(blue fades and green brightens. Girls voice )
‘People like you should go fucking die!’
(green fades, yellow brightens, voice sounding like an older male)
‘Don’t touch me you freak!’
(yellow fades, red brightens. Thick accented man)
‘You look at me one more time and I’ll kill you.’
(Silence. Spotlights fade into darkness and the young man is illuminated once more.)
…On Mondays, we go to the gym, out of the four of us I believe I’m the only one that goes just to workout. The other three spy on whatever wets their appetite, and trust me it varies daily. It makes me wonder why I’m expected to be a sexual deviant. Because I’m a man? Or because I’m gay? Or is it both?
On Tuesdays I have work with Thomas. Now he is the queen of queens. He’s a prickly bastard, barely shows any emotion. I’d liken him to an animal but even animals show sadness. No, he’s a cactus far to sharp to look at but at the very least interesting to look at.
Daniel used to be my best friend. He dances and actually has a boyfriend now. In that aspect I want to be like him. But he traded away his self respect to get his man. I don’t want to do that though. I enjoy every part of who I am, the cowardice, the bravery, every last contradictory trait I have are mine and mine alone.
There’s definitely the expectation that I should be fit. That I should be a ‘gym-bunny’ But why is that so? Who said I have to be ripped like a god? Yet I still find myself compelled to try. And in a way, I’m glad I did feel that compulsion, because it was on a Friday afternoon that I got my first taste of the unexpected.
I had asked the boys if they wanted to come with me to the gym that evening. Daniel had considered it for a moment before saying that he had a talent show to prepare for, otherwise ‘that bitch Sophia would win’ Thomas refused outright and Matt just shrugged. So I went alone. About ten minutes in I was puffing for and say down on the benches, apparently I forgot to put my water bottle in my gym-bag. I was about to go to the bubblers, feeling uneasy about public services like that, when I was handed a bottle by a stranger. He smiled at me with a second-hand grin.
”Thirsty?” He asked, his voice was barely understandable amidst a thick foreign accent. I resisted the temptation to point how obvious his question was and instead drank gratefully.
“Thanks…” I muttered and waited for him to leave, but he stayed. “Um…hi?” I offered. Again he smiled and claimed the seat next to me.
”I’m Mikel.” He said.
“Michael?” I repeated.
”No, Mikel. M-I-K-E-L” He spelt out. I ignored the stumbling words in my mouth and instead nodded. He started talking to me then, and I found myself a new gym buddy.
(Young man stops and sits down at the edge of the stage.)
I didn’t tell anyone. Mainly because I wasn’t sure how I felt. My Mum, whom had been distancing herself from me because of the whole ‘Gay’ issue, would reprimand me for talking to strangers. The boys would just grill me, and then probably steal him regardless of my interest. So I held my tongue. And waited until I saw him again on Friday.
On Monday, I didn’t say anything as I worked out alone. On Tuesday I didn’t say anything at work to Tom. On Wednesday I watched the talent show and missed the winners announcement, still I didn’t say anything.
On Friday, I dressed nicely. I normally didn’t have any muscles to show off, but my frequent trips to the gym were paying off. Sp I wore a grey singlet and a pair of light grey trackies.
He was waiting for me outside. “Hey Mikel” I called out. I was so happy, sickeningly so. He sort of frowned and beckoned me to the side.
”I must talk with you.” He said as we stepped into the shadows. “I’ve been told by my friends that you are gay?” I blinked furiously. I wanted to deny it, say it wasn’t true but how could I deny something that I had spent years pretending wasn’t true and had only just begun accepting it myself. It was a part of me.
So…I nodded.
He was silent, then hung his head, his shaggy hair masking his face. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.” And he did.
What was I supposed to do!? Tell him how I felt? Ask him not to leave? What the hell was I meant to do? Should I have lied? Deny one very important detail of who I was? Because I had fallen in lust? Was I being punished? Maybe God really did hate gays…
(Young man wipes eyes and composes himself)
Sometimes I think they are right. Those people that say nothing worth having comes easy. And I deserve to be happy. That’s what I’ve learnt, if I had to change myself for someone else, like Daniel, or cut off myself from what I felt like Tom, or sleep around to feel better about myself like Matt, then I wouldn’t be me.
I thought maybe I could give up a part of myself. But I, in a non-narcissistic way, love myself. I love every part of me. And while I may change my clothes, or my hair. Or an aspect of my body that I don’t like. I will always be the same story writing, alcohol drinking, gym going, food loving queer I am today. A long time ago, I wouldn’t have been okay with that. But after seeing the result of people denying themselves…put it this way, I could do a lot worse.
(pause)
Mikel taught me one thing, that sometimes the routine is better. Because the unexpected? Well, it can hurt like a bitch.
(A boy is partially obscured by a single spotlight, his body half in and half out.)
”It’s hard being me. Everything has become like a routine.”
”Admittedly, it wasn’t so predictable to begin with and I thrived on that ‘new’ and ‘exciting’ feel. But after a while things slowed down and that life I had was replaced by a dull repeating cycle. Especially because nothing after the day I came out was ever again as turbulent as that moment and the ensuing months.”
”You see, being trapped beneath an oppressive umbrella that is the ‘gay’ label; lead to some startling truths that I discovered of myself. I struggled at first because the expectation of my behavior that filtered down through the media and directly into the minds of my generation was not one I felt I associated with.”
(Pause as the young man steps into the light completely.)
I wasn’t feminine, or masculine. I didn’t like the color pink nor did I play sport. So what was I? I suffered long and hard over that question. But I was sure of one thing; I would never lose myself.”
”Eventually as I came to accept myself, my friends and family did too. I was told many, many times that I didn’t look ‘like one of those fags.’ It was as if no one had considered the possibility of a gay man that didn’t look like a more humanly proportioned and anatomically correct Ken Doll”
(He smiles and walks over to a lone bookcase and pulls out a photo album.)
But this isn’t about those people. They don’t matter, those people who can’t get over it don’t matter to me.
(Pause.)
There’s something about the camaraderie that comes with being gay. The topics are different, the conversations themselves are different. Straight people do not get it; Bi-Sexual’s definitely do not get it. Parents and Family in general do not get it. There’s a closeness, and I guess it helps to survive, well…that, and humor. We pride ourselves on our condescending and narcissistic wit. It’s our shell, our wall from the outside world and their attacks.”
(Young man snaps book shut and sits on the floor, his chin resting on his knees)
”I wasn’t fast enough to build that wall, that separation of emotions from reality. And if you don’t learn that, the anger and the hate that’s directed at you…It will eat you alive.
(Boy shuts eyes, sighs once and then stands to lean against the bookcase. The single spotlight splits into four shining on a square, each spot colored differently. One blue, one green, one red and one yellow.)
Those words, the slander, the insults, they don’t go anywhere; they stay in your head and echo.
(The blue spotlight shines brighter. And a voice calls out)
‘Stay the hell away from me you fag!’
(blue fades and green brightens. Girls voice )
‘People like you should go fucking die!’
(green fades, yellow brightens, voice sounding like an older male)
‘Don’t touch me you freak!’
(yellow fades, red brightens. Thick accented man)
‘You look at me one more time and I’ll kill you.’
(Silence. Spotlights fade into darkness and the young man is illuminated once more.)
…On Mondays, we go to the gym, out of the four of us I believe I’m the only one that goes just to workout. The other three spy on whatever wets their appetite, and trust me it varies daily. It makes me wonder why I’m expected to be a sexual deviant. Because I’m a man? Or because I’m gay? Or is it both?
On Tuesdays I have work with Thomas. Now he is the queen of queens. He’s a prickly bastard, barely shows any emotion. I’d liken him to an animal but even animals show sadness. No, he’s a cactus far to sharp to look at but at the very least interesting to look at.
Daniel used to be my best friend. He dances and actually has a boyfriend now. In that aspect I want to be like him. But he traded away his self respect to get his man. I don’t want to do that though. I enjoy every part of who I am, the cowardice, the bravery, every last contradictory trait I have are mine and mine alone.
There’s definitely the expectation that I should be fit. That I should be a ‘gym-bunny’ But why is that so? Who said I have to be ripped like a god? Yet I still find myself compelled to try. And in a way, I’m glad I did feel that compulsion, because it was on a Friday afternoon that I got my first taste of the unexpected.
I had asked the boys if they wanted to come with me to the gym that evening. Daniel had considered it for a moment before saying that he had a talent show to prepare for, otherwise ‘that bitch Sophia would win’ Thomas refused outright and Matt just shrugged. So I went alone. About ten minutes in I was puffing for and say down on the benches, apparently I forgot to put my water bottle in my gym-bag. I was about to go to the bubblers, feeling uneasy about public services like that, when I was handed a bottle by a stranger. He smiled at me with a second-hand grin.
”Thirsty?” He asked, his voice was barely understandable amidst a thick foreign accent. I resisted the temptation to point how obvious his question was and instead drank gratefully.
“Thanks…” I muttered and waited for him to leave, but he stayed. “Um…hi?” I offered. Again he smiled and claimed the seat next to me.
”I’m Mikel.” He said.
“Michael?” I repeated.
”No, Mikel. M-I-K-E-L” He spelt out. I ignored the stumbling words in my mouth and instead nodded. He started talking to me then, and I found myself a new gym buddy.
(Young man stops and sits down at the edge of the stage.)
I didn’t tell anyone. Mainly because I wasn’t sure how I felt. My Mum, whom had been distancing herself from me because of the whole ‘Gay’ issue, would reprimand me for talking to strangers. The boys would just grill me, and then probably steal him regardless of my interest. So I held my tongue. And waited until I saw him again on Friday.
On Monday, I didn’t say anything as I worked out alone. On Tuesday I didn’t say anything at work to Tom. On Wednesday I watched the talent show and missed the winners announcement, still I didn’t say anything.
On Friday, I dressed nicely. I normally didn’t have any muscles to show off, but my frequent trips to the gym were paying off. Sp I wore a grey singlet and a pair of light grey trackies.
He was waiting for me outside. “Hey Mikel” I called out. I was so happy, sickeningly so. He sort of frowned and beckoned me to the side.
”I must talk with you.” He said as we stepped into the shadows. “I’ve been told by my friends that you are gay?” I blinked furiously. I wanted to deny it, say it wasn’t true but how could I deny something that I had spent years pretending wasn’t true and had only just begun accepting it myself. It was a part of me.
So…I nodded.
He was silent, then hung his head, his shaggy hair masking his face. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.” And he did.
What was I supposed to do!? Tell him how I felt? Ask him not to leave? What the hell was I meant to do? Should I have lied? Deny one very important detail of who I was? Because I had fallen in lust? Was I being punished? Maybe God really did hate gays…
(Young man wipes eyes and composes himself)
Sometimes I think they are right. Those people that say nothing worth having comes easy. And I deserve to be happy. That’s what I’ve learnt, if I had to change myself for someone else, like Daniel, or cut off myself from what I felt like Tom, or sleep around to feel better about myself like Matt, then I wouldn’t be me.
I thought maybe I could give up a part of myself. But I, in a non-narcissistic way, love myself. I love every part of me. And while I may change my clothes, or my hair. Or an aspect of my body that I don’t like. I will always be the same story writing, alcohol drinking, gym going, food loving queer I am today. A long time ago, I wouldn’t have been okay with that. But after seeing the result of people denying themselves…put it this way, I could do a lot worse.
(pause)
Mikel taught me one thing, that sometimes the routine is better. Because the unexpected? Well, it can hurt like a bitch.
Friday, April 16, 2010
Shocking, I KNOW!
Well that was a surprise, a guy I used to know, and had a sort of something with. I use that term because there is no real way to describe it without getting into the nitty grits of it all.
But I went facebook lurking and found he had a new guy. I guess/hope a lot of people have those moments when an Ex, or a Something in my case, moves on, and granted it was about two years ago, and not to mention it was my fault it all stopped. So what could I expect? that he stayed hung up on it all and would never get over me?
Thats just a tad more selfish than I would have preferred. I could be jealous. Which I think I am. Because I'm at an impasse right now. Stuck in a small town for a year with recycled friends and no new experiences. All that I have left of a link to my friends is the internet.
But back to where I am right now which is a writers hell! It's not that it's bad. There's just nothing to talk about here. And the general male populace is either Super Camp Gay Guys. OR Mascu-Macho-Hetero-Heroes, that is = Straight.
I'd just like a spoonful of sugar, or failing that, a face-slap of new. If I think about it too much I can name any location/street of this town that I have bad memories, and they're constantly outweighing my good memories. Because those ones don't belong here, they all live in the places I've been outside this town. I used to think I was happy here, but I was just happy that I didnt have to move again.
I'm not happy here. I need to get out but how can I get out with no where to go to.
But I went facebook lurking and found he had a new guy. I guess/hope a lot of people have those moments when an Ex, or a Something in my case, moves on, and granted it was about two years ago, and not to mention it was my fault it all stopped. So what could I expect? that he stayed hung up on it all and would never get over me?
Thats just a tad more selfish than I would have preferred. I could be jealous. Which I think I am. Because I'm at an impasse right now. Stuck in a small town for a year with recycled friends and no new experiences. All that I have left of a link to my friends is the internet.
But back to where I am right now which is a writers hell! It's not that it's bad. There's just nothing to talk about here. And the general male populace is either Super Camp Gay Guys. OR Mascu-Macho-Hetero-Heroes, that is = Straight.
I'd just like a spoonful of sugar, or failing that, a face-slap of new. If I think about it too much I can name any location/street of this town that I have bad memories, and they're constantly outweighing my good memories. Because those ones don't belong here, they all live in the places I've been outside this town. I used to think I was happy here, but I was just happy that I didnt have to move again.
I'm not happy here. I need to get out but how can I get out with no where to go to.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Thesaurus Rape. A Public Awareness Announcment.
The young boy's lips parted softly as he exuded a sweet waft of life's breath into the surrounding atmosphere. The troposphere was clement, and droplets of saline sudor were forming on his alabaster brow. The man who was roosted abreast of him passed a hand gloved in obsidian leather across his own brow, and sussurated in exhaustion.
This. Is a sufferer of Thesaurus Rape. Dear readers, we have here a paragraph from a piece of fan-fiction regarding Final Fantasy 13. Now normally, considering it's a piece of Fan-Fic, I wouldn't even give it a second thought.
But it struck a chord. That could have been me, had I not been given the proper medical and educational help against this horrible affliction.
Let me start with a definition. Thesaurus Rape: Is the terrible affliction, where a writer, has a perfectly adequate paragraph/sentence. And then decides to swap every second word for a more...'appropriate' word..
Whilst I am tired. I'll post the rest of my rant tomorrow. Heh, Sorry guys... sleep beckons.
This. Is a sufferer of Thesaurus Rape. Dear readers, we have here a paragraph from a piece of fan-fiction regarding Final Fantasy 13. Now normally, considering it's a piece of Fan-Fic, I wouldn't even give it a second thought.
But it struck a chord. That could have been me, had I not been given the proper medical and educational help against this horrible affliction.
Let me start with a definition. Thesaurus Rape: Is the terrible affliction, where a writer, has a perfectly adequate paragraph/sentence. And then decides to swap every second word for a more...'appropriate' word..
Whilst I am tired. I'll post the rest of my rant tomorrow. Heh, Sorry guys... sleep beckons.
