Posts Tagged ‘night’

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paralysis.

July 12, 2010

This weekend was lovely for me.  I went to London to see Toby’s new place and also to spend some time with Nana, one of my closest friends from my time at Oxford.  I was due to be in London the following weekend (now this coming weekend) anyway as me and Toby are going to the Surrey University Grad Ball, but Nana texted me asking whether I was free and she needed to talk.  As it’s more than about time I went down to London (she’s come to visit me in Bristol a few times but between university, family and various other commitments I had never made it down), I decided to take a trip on the very cheap Megabus and spend a couple of days.  We had a really nice time eating, chilling, shopping (though I was restrained with spending money – my driving test is looming so it’s time to prioritise) and it was just great to catch up.  But anyway, that’s not what I’m writing about.

On the Friday night after we’d been for cocktails (Toby & Nana got on superbly, and they were able to talk about science while I smiled and vacated my brain and just looked pretty), Toby and I got the tube back to his.  We got off at Earls Court, and due to him not usually getting off at that station and it being vaguely confusing in the night-time, he ended up walking me slightly the wrong way.  We went down one road in particular, and in the entranceway to the first house on the road there was a man slumped, ostensibly asleep.  It was about 10:45 in the evening, he had a backpack still on his back, and he was strewn across the entrance to the house with one arm covering his face.  His clothes looked vaguely dirty (probably from the ground) but other than that I couldn’t tell much of his appearance, from my vantage point of being stood up.  In other words, it just looked like he’d had too much to drink and passed out.

Toby and I stopped, and Toby wondered if the guy was alright.  At this point, I urged Toby to just keep walking, as he was probably just drunk and would be fine. As the words came out of my mouth, I started to question myself: Why was I so eager to just carry on? What if something bad had happened to the guy? What if he needed someone to call the emergency services? And most of all, what was I so afraid of? I can’t deny that I felt a strong intuition to just keep walking and not get involved in something that was probably not a problem and certainly not my business. The media report and project so many stories about people who’ve wound up injured, hurt or worse by getting involved in other people’s tribulations when they were only trying to help.  But what if that man were me? What if I needed somebody to call for help on my behalf, and they just kept on walking?

The dilemma swirled in my mind even as I convinced Toby that we should just leave the guy and keep on walking. As luck would have it, Toby was using the GPS on his mobile and discovered we needed to walk back down the same road and take a different turning to get to his place, so we were due to end up passing the unconscious man again. To assuage my conscience, I said that if the guy looked like he was really in trouble, if we could see blood or signs of something dangerous (we had already noted that the guy didn’t appear to be bleeding, and seemed to be breathing ok), we would call the police. As we approached the entrance to the house again, we passed many other pedestrians on their way home / wherever, and none of them seemed to be the slightest bit concerned about the guy. At this point, I wondered whether I was just naïve: I’m from a decent-sized city but it’s not London, and things are different there. Perhaps it was even more commonplace than in Bristol, and perhaps they had judged it more dangerous to get involved than to keep walking.  Maybe they hadn’t even noticed. But the combination of other people’s lack of concern, the fact that a lot of the houses had lights on so it wasn’t as if the guy would be in danger nor did any of the occupants seem to be particularly bothered by his presence, and the fact that when we did pass him again, he didn’t seem to be in any distress or be injured (in other words, he did genuinely appear to be passed out asleep) meant that we didn’t call 999 but just went on our way.

I hope that he was alright in the end. I just can’t help but wonder if I did the right thing: obviously putting my own safety (and Toby’s) first is important. But at the same time, how much danger could a barely conscious man who was probably stinking drunk pose to us? Why did I feel an instinctual sense of alarm, and was I right to trust that instinct? I believe myself to be the kind of person who would help a person in need, but in this instance should I have done more? Or am I just being naïve and thinking about a commonplace incident far too much? Am I right in thinking that if nobody living on the road nor the other pedestrians walking past seemed to be alarmed, I didn’t need to be either? Is that just being realistic, or is it a dangerous blind eye to turn? I wonder what this says about me as a person, about us as an urban society, that we’re afraid of making a social blunder that could cost us our own personal safety, even when the situation probably is less dangerous than we fear and the person might need our help? Is the media to blame for hyping such incidents to the point that we are too afraid to help others for fear of the consequences that a misguided retaliation might mean for ourselves? I suppose the most telling thing is that if I could do it again, I would probably do exactly the same and play it safe for me and Toby. I just wonder if it was the right thing to do.

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Joe & Ginuwine concert.

October 17, 2009

Last night, Davina, Deena and myself went to the Bristol O2 Academy to see Joe and Ginuwine.  In short, we had a really good time!  Here are some photos:

It was a really good night (despite the fact it was finished by 10pm)!  Both guys’ vocals were on point, Ginuwine did a nice tribute to Michael Jackson that was celebratory without being cheesy (basically they played some MJ songs while he hyped the crowd without singing along or anything like that), and Joe pretended to leave and then came back and performed “No One Else Comes Close” on acoustic guitar, which was the highlight of his set (along with an extended version of “I Wanna Know” – bliss!).  A couple of niggles:  Ginuwine did not perform any of my favourite songs of his, except for “Pony”.  I know that it’s important to perform newer material, especially for the younger kids in the audience who may not know his older stuff, but “When Doves Cry”, “What’s So Different” and particularly “So Anxious” are too damn good not to perform.  And they were big hits back in the day!  This is the second time I’ve seen him live… I’m thinking of sending him a message and letting him know.  Does anyone know his twitter?  He’s coming back to Bristol in December (which is really good! He must like it here 😀 ) with Tank and Tyrese to do some TGT stuff… I will probably go and see him again!

Joe looks a lot better in person than he does in his photos, and he did do my favourites: “I Wanna Know”, “No One Else Comes Close”, “Stutter” and “Where You At”.  However, when he did “Where You At?” he said “This is old school!”  Isn’t it only a couple of years old? Hardly what I would consider “old-school”, especially since he did “I Wanna Know” (which EVERYONE sang along with, and he extended it – it was epic!), “Stutter” and “All The Things (Your Man Won’t Do)” – one song that is even before my time and which I am going to download this very evening.  Honour the older songs in your catalogue – especially when some of them are more soulful and bump harder than the new shit that passes for “R&B” these days.  But I was really pleased with his performance – his voice was really good and I’m glad he did such a good job of his songs old and new.

A final question – what’s with wanting a sweaty towel? Ginuwine trailed his towel over him and then threw it into the crowd, which cause the predictable mini-scuffle (at least he didn’t lose his ring like last time at Panache, when the security had to jump into the crowd and bounce everyone out of the way looking for it)… I don’t understand.  Is the person who gets the towel honestly not going to wash it, just because it has Ginuwine’s sweat on it?  That’s kinda gross.  I don’t get it… not even if it were Mariah Carey’s towel would I be that manic.  Le shrug.

But I had a good time, and wanted to share it with y’all – especially as I haven’t updated for a little bit and I don’t want you to think I’m neglecting y’all! I appreciate you reading and I don’t forget it.  Thankyou 🙂

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gift.

October 10, 2009

So my birthday is coming up, and literally just now my mother asked me whether I still wanted a flat screen TV.  Originally, I was after one so that I could better see the graphics (and actually be able to read the on-screen instructions!!!) when I’m playing my Playstation 3.  But I was going to move my current TV into my ‘office’ area (where I have my printer and filing set up for uni) and according to plans my mother has to put a wardrobe in there, I don’t think it’s gonna fit.  And I don’t really play PS3 enough for it to be worth just buying a new TV.  So I’m gonna nix the gift, and now I have to think of something else!

And it’s hard but I almost got a little bit tearful for a moment there because if I could choose another gift at this moment, I just wish that my parents would stop fighting.  This last couple of weeks, it’s been really really bad, alternating between silent treatments and raging rows.  I’ve just tried to get out of their company as soon as I can after dinner, and work by myself in my bedroom / the spare bedroom / the hallway, because it’s just traumatic.  I remember when I was 8 years old, and I used to listen to them fighting upstairs and just cry and wish for it all to stop – well, I react differently now (I go and have a shower to drown out their voices; I contemplate going downstairs and telling them to grow up) but I still feel like I’m 8 years old again and a little child listening to the world falling apart.  I don’t know what to do.

Maybe this is why my little crush at uni isn’t really a crush.  I just want somebody to protect me and hold me tight and for everything to be ok.  I try and maintain the façade of having everything together as much as possible, because I don’t want anyone to know that I am actually feeling quite vulnerable, but I think I’ve let a couple of things slip that maybe betray the fact I’m quite upset about it.  When I daydream (or night-dream), it’s not really a sexual thing but more a protective thing, that somebody will hold me and not leave.  I have made my friend Mike promise that as soon as he has a decent flat available and my bursary comes through, I am going to move out because I’ve just had enough, and also I really need my own space where I can just be at ease and have my own privacy and invite people round and come and go as I please.  I don’t get on badly with my parents (after all, they’re not shouting at / being silent with me) but maybe it’s just being 23, nearly 24 and still living at home is a little constraining.

So I now have to deal with the conundrum of what to ask for as a birthday gift from my mum. (I haven’t asked if this is going to be on behalf of both of my parents, as my dad usually remembers my birthday – he didn’t buy me a birthday present once and a Christmas present another time, but that happened in the past so I don’t know if he would still forget these days.) Although I want a Gucci necklace, I don’t think I am going to mention it.  I may have a window shop today and see if I find anything that tickles my fancy, but other than someone scooping me up and telling me everything is gonna be alright, or a place to call my own (both things I can’t exactly ask for!), I really don’t know what I want.

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this is lycanthropy.

July 30, 2009

Quick, watch this before someone takes it off youtube! Apparently, that happens sometimes! (they did it to my Whitney Houston video, because obviously my singing her song is going to damage her sales.)

The song has grown on me immensely, and Shakira looks flawless.  But looking at the way she dances in the video, and combining that with the ideas contained in the lyrics, it gets me thinking of the primal sexuality that we keep locked up by day and let loose at night.  When I go to a club with my friends, I tend to prefer straight clubs because a) the majority of my friends are straight, and b) I can’t stand the bitchy queeny atmosphere, the meat-market stares, nor the awful mega-cheese of Bristol gay clubs – therefore my dancing is somewhat inhibited and I tend to play it cool (R&B / hip hop kinda promotes cool nonchalance over insane all-out dancing anyways).  But nevertheless, I’ve always been a good dancer because I guess I have an innate sense of rhythm.  I always get randoms trying to dance with me in clubs, and other guys often compliment me on my dancing (which I find crazy, because for a guy to compliment another guy without knowing them or having an ulterior motive of some sort is practically unheard of).  I’ve been dancing since I was a child, but just as I learned to sing from Mariah Carey albums, I learned to dance from MTV.  The best teachers are your idols, and my recipe for success has always been study, study, study, incorporate a range of everything into your repertoire, and then just feel the music and let what comes out come out.  That’s the way I sing, and that’s the way I dance – it’s automatic, it’s instinctive, and it’s usually more powerful than a rehearsed performance.  Just as I have performed at numerous concerts singing and playing instruments, I have done a few dance displays and was the first male ever to win my high school dance competition (to Brandy’s “What About Us?”), so I guess I know what I’m talking about.  But at the same time, I could never teach anyone to sing nor to dance, because I just do what I do and feel the music and make my body talk.  I have heard accomplished instrumentalists say that they learned how to make their piano or their guitar talk (I read a quote from Bruce Springsteen in a book in HMV the other day), and that was a powerful yet simplistic explanation of how someone plays their instrument.  So I guess the best way for me to explain the way I ‘do’ music is that I make my voice or my body talk and express itself to the music.

When Shakira says that “this is lycanthropy”, I understand that she’s referring to unleashing your inner predator (in her case, the ‘she-wolf’).  I often find myself with my ipod at night dancing around, and the most intoxicating thing for me (which is the feel I’ve tried to capture on my forthcoming album) is to be outside in the dark, with the fresh air caressing your skin and nothing to distract you from the music as you stand / move around in the moonlight.  If I’m in a more contemplative mood, I’ll smoke my cigarette while gazing out over the garden just listening to the music, taking in the lyrics and sensing the feel of the music.  Music is the perfect backdrop for me (and I presume, many many people!) to rediscover their sexuality and sensuality, and get in touch with the inner person who is subdued during the hectic day-to-day.  This is why I find music so powerful.

If I am getting ready to go out, be it night or day, and I want to feel good about myself, I’ll dress up in my nicest, most flattering clothes, make sure I have a label or two, make sure my hair is fierce, my skin is tanned and glowing, and my jewellery is on point.  But I need a soundtrack to complete my attitude and back it up.  If I am thinking about someone, I’ll associate certain songs with my emotions and, if the person is lucky / significant, with them.  Music has the power to inspire so many feelings in me, and it can make me feel sexy, and bolster my confidence and go and get that guy whom I’ve been lusting after, instead of just contemplating it.  After all, we are in disguise during our daytime personas; once the moon rises, we have full licence to let our nocturnal predator out to play and attract our prey with the way we make our bodies talk.  I believe that dancing is one of the purest forms of expression, and the physicality of someone can be so powerful, so magnetic that it can attract you towards them instinctively.  So we may be humans, but we are still animalistic in our bodies, our spirits, and in the way that music can make us react.