Selling out and drinking gin
I always get absolutely bloody miserable and maudlin in Autumn. My latest depressing thoughts are whether I've sold out to 'the man'. There was once a time when I would live round my mates Giri's house and we'd have red stripe and a pack of space invaders for breakfast and listen to rancid and smoke copious amounts of pot. Now I go to work, get the train home then go to the pub and in bed by half eleven. Every morning when I'm surrounded by suits, particularly when I'm listening to Mouthwash or Choking Victim, I think "what a fucking sell out you are Sarina."
But fuck it. I'm not working for the man. I'm working for the fucking best organisation in the country when it comes to international development. But still...listening to Mouthwash singing "Working nine to five I cannot live like that no" I think, what the fuck am I doing?
I love my job though. At least I'm not working for an advertising agency and you cannae make a living being a promoter, really. Well I don't know. I just feel like cattle. Particularly when, this morning, five people were counting all the sodding commuters that walked past.
Defiance, Ohio were amazing. Too much talking inbetween songs. I don't care what he was thinking when he wrote a song. I care about what I think about.
King Blues were awesome. First time I saw them. They're the band that Itch should have been in four years ago instead of Father Jaxx. As much fun as Father Jaxx were and as much as Itch's faux jamaican accent (oh! here comes the complaints! untouchable loveable itch) grates me, they're really good and got everyone dancing.
I'm really scared of people. I didn't realise until this maudlin week when I realised the only reason I hate going to work is because I'm scared of talking to people there. It's because they're so normal. When I talk about where I go, I never mention the P word (punk) in case they think I'm nuts. Instead, I nod and grin when they talk about Topshop. Very punk you utter twat, Sarina.
When I was at uni I used to hide in the toilets during breaks because I didn't want to talk to people. I forsaked my lovely nicotine habit so I didn't have to small talk.
Anyway, I write too much.
I always get absolutely bloody miserable and maudlin in Autumn. My latest depressing thoughts are whether I've sold out to 'the man'. There was once a time when I would live round my mates Giri's house and we'd have red stripe and a pack of space invaders for breakfast and listen to rancid and smoke copious amounts of pot. Now I go to work, get the train home then go to the pub and in bed by half eleven. Every morning when I'm surrounded by suits, particularly when I'm listening to Mouthwash or Choking Victim, I think "what a fucking sell out you are Sarina."
But fuck it. I'm not working for the man. I'm working for the fucking best organisation in the country when it comes to international development. But still...listening to Mouthwash singing "Working nine to five I cannot live like that no" I think, what the fuck am I doing?
I love my job though. At least I'm not working for an advertising agency and you cannae make a living being a promoter, really. Well I don't know. I just feel like cattle. Particularly when, this morning, five people were counting all the sodding commuters that walked past.
Defiance, Ohio were amazing. Too much talking inbetween songs. I don't care what he was thinking when he wrote a song. I care about what I think about.
King Blues were awesome. First time I saw them. They're the band that Itch should have been in four years ago instead of Father Jaxx. As much fun as Father Jaxx were and as much as Itch's faux jamaican accent (oh! here comes the complaints! untouchable loveable itch) grates me, they're really good and got everyone dancing.
I'm really scared of people. I didn't realise until this maudlin week when I realised the only reason I hate going to work is because I'm scared of talking to people there. It's because they're so normal. When I talk about where I go, I never mention the P word (punk) in case they think I'm nuts. Instead, I nod and grin when they talk about Topshop. Very punk you utter twat, Sarina.
When I was at uni I used to hide in the toilets during breaks because I didn't want to talk to people. I forsaked my lovely nicotine habit so I didn't have to small talk.
Anyway, I write too much.
VIEW 3 of 3 COMMENTS
And you haven't fuckin' sold out, you grew up.