Floating head.

That floating head, that silly, beautiful floating head. Why does it control me, use me? How do I make it’s magical ability to fly above all the other mundane heads that need necks stop? Why does your head float when I am left grounded and in dispute with the body that has supported it, cared for it. The analytical ability and the creative expressionism, a jumbled mess of hormones, synaptic impulses and chemicals. How does it float? How can I perceive it so freely yet it make me feel so reserved and gated. Take your silly, beautiful floating her and bolt it too the fleshy cage it once had, that is equality, true equality. You’ll rot like me, you eat like me, breathe like me, why can’t you be like me? I’m breathless. You’re full of air. I hope you soon burst.



In some peoples lives there comes a point where you no longer have control over your own mind. It’s a horrible ordeal, it haunts ever essence of your being. I have just experienced one of these melancholy points. Though on the outside it seems to be a simple panic attack, but I’m sorry to say it was so very much more than that and so very much worse. For a small part of this horrifying slather of a mental meltdown, it was as if my mind took me away from my sentient being and sent me to various destinations around the globe, in each one something rather horrific would be occurring, for example, one was a hurricane in central america where I was swept away by the cold, wet power of the wind, I was drowning and flying at the same moment in time. Another, took me to what I could only perceive as Australia, where I was contained in the body of a women who was being raped, her convulsions and screams echoed through me, once again I was cold and once again I wasn’t able to breath, but I wasn’t drowning, the sheer terror that emitted through me made me weak and evoked my ability to take in the breath of air I so desperately needed. The final blow came in the form of a planetary cross over, I was looking up from a rainy road, alone and still frozen from the previous events when suddenly I could feel every emotion in the world and unfortunately, the dominant emotion was unshakable pain and suffering. This intense wave made me completely and utterly raw, almost as if my skin had been flailed from my body and my bare muscle and fat layer was consumed by a million daggers that only very slightly penetrated me but in such numbers that they became my new skin, metal and rust became my new protection, I bore the pain of this planet and I can honestly say that I wish to never cause pain or suffering or sadness in any way, shape or form through out the the entirety of my life. Once I was returned to my sentient being I still wore the scars of the whole ordeal. I feel like I will always wear those scars, always carry those experiences with me even though I didn’t actually go through them. For that I can’t forgive this evil ridden aspects that writhe around in my minds core, I can never forgive it for that.

Man O’ War.

Throwing caution to the wind, I’m writing another one of my ‘deep internal monologues’. When asked the question of ‘what animal I would want to be?’ Last night during a night of debauchery, I answered ‘Galapagos Tortoise’ as I think the remaining sub-species are beautiful and graceful, but giving it further thought i’d like to rectify my answer. To the fabled ‘Man O’ war’, a marine cnidarian that is often mistaken for a jellyfish. In actuality it is a super organism made up of many different zooids that would not be able to survive on their own. It’s an incredible animal and if it’s purple and blue hues don’t shock you it’s toxic venom will. But they main reason I would want to be one is they don’t actually have a set path in life, the zooids that form the above surface area of this incredible marine creature, form a sail. They use it to simple follow where the wind takes them, no active movement, just trusting the mercy of the wind and the tide. An opposing metaphor can also be taken from it’s very unique life, when I see photo’s of them washing up on beaches an bays, I can’t help but feel a little anguish. They trusted the seas and it resulted in their eternal doom, I guess that’s the price you pay for freedom on the ocean.

The only reason I can think of for writing this fairly random post is that last night, once the debauchery ceased, I had one of my best friends stay in my bedroom, we discussed the normal teen drama situations around us but we also made some exciting plans. Once I’ve completed university, I plan on moving back home and I asked her if she wanted to live with me, not that this is a big metaphor about being tied down, i’m extremely excited. Don’t forget, all though the Man O’ War is a free spirit it is still made up of completely mutually dependant organisms. Which is the part I want to exaggerate, I have a petrifying fear of living alone. So the fact I have friends who are more than accepting of this and want to aid my well being by living with is one of the most endearing and loving gesture I have ever received. Appreciate your friends folks, they can do amazing things. And the Man O’ War, they’re just plain awesome.

My Passive Right of Passage.


So, yesterday I was able to vote for the first time, of course I voted Labour for my council elections and the Socialist Party for the EU general, now it was a nice feeling, having my political voice heard. But then directly afterwards I was denied the ability to buy cigarettes because the glare ridden women behind the cash till decided to voice that she had never served me, despite the fact all of her colleagues had. This all happening within a ten minute period made me realise something, Newtons law about every action having an equal and opposite reaction, fell short when it came to social paradigms. Because the way people act cannot be explained by physics, no one can truly explain why people act, even this, right now. Even I don’t really know why i’m writing this, obligation? Sympathy? This post could easily be effected by the fact my time at college has come to an end, it feels like the end of an era and I’m just trying to have my say about it. It’s gone so very fast and despite all the bad, i’m going to be a little lost with out it. It really signifies how fast life is, how everything can change in what feels like a few seconds. There will always be glare ridden women at cash tills, just waiting to put back into the realisation stage of the life dynamic. The oxymoronic situation I experienced yesterday placed me right back into the realisation that you can control very little, voting for a political party one moment and being I.D.’d in the next.

Another series of events which complimented how little control we have as humans has played itself out the past few months, one of my best friends attempted suicide, another became the victim to a horrible relationship and and another’s boyfriend may have cancer. These horrific things force you to take perspective of what is important to you, because it’s something you can have some control over, even if it only the emotions you allocate it. Because in all honesty, life doesn’t give a fuck, it’ll destroy you and all those around you without a second thought. So, do your absolute best to keep what is important to you close, that way, you may not be able to fully control what happens to it or them, but you can prepare yourself.

And of course, never take anything for granted.

A Brand New Skin.

As my self-explanatory username suggests, I have a unconditional and everlasting obsession with entomology. A by product of this is that I enjoy the presence of various Invertebrates. Now, there are many aspects of their unique and special lives that I’m intrigued by, but most of all are the processes of growth. In it’s simplest form, moulting of the skin and in a far more complex form, metamorphosis. Just today my very perculiar Ghost Mantis (Phyllocrania paradoxa) shed it’s skin and emerged an adult female. Looking at the change that can occur in such a short time reflects a lot about my interpersonal opinion on ageing. It’s pretty unnerving to think with in a few hours an animal that was a juvenile, that didn’t do more that eat and look pretty, has been forced into adulthood. Forced into fertility, the innate responsibility to care for her precious ootheca, her dear offspring. I for one am jealous. She has emerged from her teenage era a new being, a being already prepared to do as much as she can for the greater good of her species. Now the question I want to ask you is, If a mere insect can simply shed its way into adulthood in a matter of hours and know exactly what to do with his or her life, why can’t humans? We’re described as the most intelligent species on this planet, but we spend many years deciding what we want to do with our lives but rarely focus on what we need to do.

Then we have the most dramatic change in nature, metamorphosis. The complete change on a cellular level from the well-fed caterpillar to a glorious Lepidoptera, an Atlas moth, a Blue Morpho, the variety is incomprehensible. Again, this begs the question of, how can our society (and species) relate and adapt like this? Is it just a metaphor a psychiatrist uses to boost your self esteem. Or, can we really integrate that idea into our lives. Actually appreciate the way a much simpler organisms ability to completely change its entire genetic make up to work more effectively in its environment. I know i’m being slightly hypocritical here because I have just used metamorphosis as a metaphor in some oxymoronic convoluted word play. But what I want to you to take away from this annoyingly rant-esk internal monologue is; if an insect can change its life completely with out any form of anxiety or fear, why can’t you and is being the most intelligent species on this planet really the blessing everyone makes it out to be?


The Dynamic Social Paradigm.

As humans we are supposed to be a communal species, we should huddle together on cold nights, bring home vast feasts on spring afternoons and provide shelter and water for any of our fellow species, we should all do at least one of these things, but we don’t. We don’t because as the human race has grown, aged and learnt, we somehow forgot pity and anguish along the way and replaced it with self-preservation. This is the new ‘dynamic’ change to the human race. As the world begins to burn we turn to ourselves for protection. But the funny thing is, to make a change to this soon-to-be smouldering ash ball, we need to once again band together and do absolutely everything in our power to aid the struggle of our earth, the almighty planet, Gaia, whatever you want to call it, it doesn’t matter. Now is not the time for identity or to ‘be your own person’. Now is the time to work together for a common cause.

Lets say we don’t work together, what’s the worst that could happen? Few kids living on lakes, a bit more of a tan in summer, right? Wrong. It would be so, so much worse. As the temperature of the planet increases, ecosystems that rely on a very short fluctuation of temperature through a year long period would be consistently exposed to a much larger fluctuation and in a much shorter time. They will collapse. And once our produce is gone and we are barely left with the ability to find water, doomsday sets in. But all this horror and despair can be aborted. We aren’t at doomsday just yet. If we go back to our species’ roots we can find a simple, effective and monumentally beautiful answer, work together. Don’t hate each other based on petty beliefs, be a good human, a good Homo sapien. Don’t let our world, our environment, our species down.


Morning sunset.

Imagine if the world worked differently. If one major thing way different, in this example; sexuality. Imagine if the homosexual population was the majority and the heterosexual population was the feared ‘one in four’. Do you think the world would be different? I know we’d have a much more controlled population size. But lets think about gender dynamics, if the stereotypes of sexuality today were applied there would a massive change in they way women and men are depicted in society. Women would be seen as masculine in line with the current lesbian stereotype and men would be labelled everything from ‘Macho’ to ‘Queen’. I hate to say it but I don’t think things would be any different. The homosexual population would be just as oppressive as the heterosexual are now. Because the truth is, ladies and gentlemen, you aren’t born with tolerance. You are born with the instinct to fight and the instinct to breed, eat, breathe but not tolerance. We only learn that when we have to, usually in the presence of discrimination. So once we’ve been oppressed, discriminated against or hated for no apparent reason other than feeble traditions that are more tedious than a child’s tantrum. The point of the complex internal monologue is to make you realise, realise not everyone is as lucky as you. So, the next time you call someone gay for the comedic pleasure, think about why that word is funny, how it came to be and how much pain, suffering and death it caused in a outcasted society for doing nothing more than nature intended. The word I would use to describe a comedic sexuality is ‘straight’.



Black Widow Spider Males Prefer Well-fed Virgin Females

Black Widows are making up for societies failure at varied reproduction and emotional trauma caused by bigoted males.

Entomology Today

New research published in the journal Animal Behaviour shows that male black widow spiders prefer their female mates to be well-fed virgins — a rare example of mate preference by male spiders.

The study, authored by Emily MacLeod, a postdoctoral researcher at the University of Toronto Scarborough, and Maydianne Andrade, a professor in UTSC’s Department of Biological Sciences, found that in the wild and in controlled field studies, black widow males overwhelmingly chose to mate with well-fed, unmated females. They also found that male black widows can tell whether a potential mate is well-fed and unmated by pheromones released by females.

“This near unanimous preference by males for well-fed mates using only phermonal cues has not been documented in any other spider species,” said MacLeod. “These are not visual or auditory cues they are picking up, but smells they are sensing, often from far away.”

Macleod said the reason males…

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Falling into the Crack.


There comes a point in your life when you’re at a big turning point. This can manifest in a huge manner of ways. Whether it be moving to a new area, falling in love or even something as simple as planning a holiday. But once you’re on the cusp of getting to the next point in your life, something happens. The fear that was kept in the back of your mind erupts with the fury of Vesuvius. Covering everything you know to be right and good in a smoky ash of doubt. This is what I call ‘the crack’. It’s always there, but only appears when you undergo a cultural and life defining evolution. Whether it’s induced by the status quo of society, a fear of deferring from the norm or simple human anxiety, it’s there and once you’re in there you feel absolutely helpless, you loose all connection with your current (perhaps in fear that it will disintegrate anyway. It surrounds you and makes you question yourself and your judgement. The only to climb out of this seemingly bottomless pit of doubt, is to just stop. It sounds simple, but once you realise you’re in it, at that exact moment, just stop. Stop walking, stop talking, stop listening to music, stop drinking your coffee. Then question it, slowly but surly you’ll come to realise how stupid and pointless it actually is and how your inner monologue can go haywire but can be put back into its perfect setting, in sync with you. The crack is formidable if left unchecked, left to fester with you inside it. So heed my warning, just stop and obliterate the concept before it obliterates you.

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