I can't get no sleep.

I sympathise with Maxi Jazz from 'Faithless'. Insomnia is a nuisance and instead of grabbing a few extra hours of much needed sleep, one resorts to posting bullshit on the internet in order to stop one's self from going crazy.

It has just gone 3am. I can hear the sweet breathes of my girlfriend as she dreams about blue screens and riveting and hilarious incidents involving people buying clothes from shops. I am envious. You see, despite the fact I feel reasonably tired, I know that sleep will not overcome me for a while yet. Unfortunately that is just the way things are. At first it troubled me, but now I am resigned to the fact that my sleeping pattern is fucked.

Going to bed at 4am and waking at 2pm is frequent and it does have it's advantages, but right at this very moment in time, I feel exhausted, and I am begging sleep to come. At least scratching my balls is mildly entertaining...

A New Dawn

As I am a budding writer, I will be occassionally using this blog to post my latest attempts at stories, poetry etc as well as the usual witterings. I would appreciate it if you could take the time to read these posts, and comment on what you think about them. Constructive criticism is very welcome. Thanks in advance.

A New Dawn.

A dull pressure between her legs lulled her away from the hollow accusing eyes, swept up in flames of condemnation, that pulled at the corners of her dreams almost every night, decaying them slowly into nightmares. Regaining her senses, Sammy widened her eyes until she felt as if the retina would pull away, and let the half-light flood the images leaving only the beautifully formed face in front of her: Celia.

This was the only truly perfect moment of every day, when everything they had hoped to achieve was encapsulated in her form and her only goal was to pleasure her. Despite her body's niggling desires, work needed to be attended to, and so, reluctantly, Sammy pushed her lover away with gentle force. Celia frowned, but held a playful glow in her pretty face.

“You asked to be woken up.”

Sammy laughed; a deep harsh-sounding laugh, one that you would automatically associate with her once you witnessed her appearance.

“Yeah, but an alarm clock would have done. I have a packed schedule today.” She spoke with the same gruffness that her laugh contained.

Celia nodded, understanding what today was. Sammy had received her annual call-up and it was essential that she obeyed the terms. Neither of them enjoyed the process, but there was no alternative. As her older lover hopped out of bed, Celia lay imagining the mythical past she had heard so much about; secretly wishing that life could return to that simple banality.

Sammy had the commanding military strut of an army general. Her menacing demeanour demanded respect and she received it in abundance. It was a fundamental quality to have in her line of work and the young women of her district abided by the laws. Of course, they had little choice.

The sun beamed down upon her shaven head as she paced back and forth through her designated estate, always alert and ready to counter any mischievous mishaps. It was unfortunate that the students were forbidden to rise for another hour, as Sammy was just in the mood to take in the long, tanned legs that many of them possessed. Instead, she was expected to contain her itch for the “good of humanity”. She inwardly cursed the mayoress' slogan. Sammy turned the corner into the next street, full of identical detached houses, indistinguishable to those that could be found in every corner of the 'Ainiaan Block'.

An elderly woman and her partner were sat outside their house, indulging in hushed conversation. Alarmed by their low volume, Sammy moved stealthily towards the pair, stopping at a distance where she could eavesdrop. Oblivious to the intruder, the two women continued to gossip.

“Sure, the world wasn't perfect before, but it has gotten dramatically worse since the Amazon's uprising. It is despicable the way they treat them-”

Suddenly aware of Sammy's presence, the younger woman impeded on her older lover's speech, “I know Mary, but there is nothing we can do.”

Sammy gave a threatening smile to the new traitors, and, ignoring her guilty conscience, noted the incident. She would later pass on their names to the mayoress, and Mary and her lover would join the host of women already haunting Sammy's sleep.

The call-up centre, as it was called by the senior wardens, was situated by the block's exit. Every woman knew what occurred in there and horror stories were shared, so it widely became known as what it used to be: a prison. Sammy had finished her shift and was making her way to the prison. The journey was littered with harsh reminders that conformity was compulsory.

Sammy allowed her mind to wander as she walked. Warm, fuzzy memories and thoughts about Celia caused a flicker of a smile to appear on her face. She loved Celia, but could not refrain from envying her. After all, she was born after the peak of the terror. Unlike Sammy, she had not suffered personal loss or experienced the end of traditional families. Luckily, Celia was therefore innocently naïve.

Five strong hooded figures had barged into Sammy's home one evening when she was only six years old. She had a photographic image of the moment her father was taken away etched permanently on her brain. The episode had been replicated on a global scale, signalling the beginning of a new dawn.

The rotten smell of burning flesh permeated Sammy's nostrils, bringing her back to the present. That foul aroma meant that she had arrived at 'The Pit'. It was, as it's name suggested a giant, and extremely deep crater, where traitors of the regime were publicly burnt alive. Decadent piles of bones clung to the surface pitilessly like an abused child cowering in a corner, frightened but also confused as to what it has done wrong. Sammy's stomach turned, as tears rolled down her hard face. She was fully aware that many of the victims had been sent here due to her recommendations.

Sammy ran for the remainder of the journey. She ignored the horrific landmarks that she swiftly passed; the colossal childcare unit; the main laboratory, formerly an all boys school; and the holy statue of Doris Flannery - founder and spearhead of the new world.

When she arrived at her destination, Sammy breathed in before respiring out gravely. She walked up to a hooded prison guard, gave her name: Sammy Flannery, and was led to her own personal “reproduction machine”. She passed the infamous chamber, where, stood outside was a butch woman with a male baby in one hand and a glistening machete in the other. Sammy vomited in her mouth a little but continued following the guard.

Once inside her cell, she was met by the sight of a skinny man sat on a chair, his hands tied tightly behind his back. He began to scream, but she placed a gag in his mouth.

“Be useful and give me a daughter,” Sammy ordered, the domineering tones hiding her nervousness.

Challenge 25: For the lottery?!?!

I can understand the use of it for cigarettes and alcohol, but some shops are really starting to take the piss with identification checks for the lottery!

I mean, if I really was 15 or under, why would I put the lottery on? I might as well throw the money down the drain, because if I was to win, I would not be able to claim any prize anyway. And secondly, do I really look that young?

Something else that infuriated me was the lack of common sense shown by one sales assistant. Ok, fair enough I didn't have a passport or driving license on me, but surely my university membership card is proof that I am well over the age of 15!

And to top the whole sorry saga off, there I was last night with my ticket (My 19-year-old friend who also got ID'd had to buy it for me) and after having matched with the first two ball, my heart began to frantically race, only for the other four numbers to quash any hopes I had of winning anything.

Celebrity Big Brother: The halfway stage.

It goes against everything I believe in, but I cannot help but be drawn in and addicted to every series of 'Big Brother' and the latest celebrity edition is no different. Nine housemates remain and my money would be on Vinnie Jones to win, but what of the other cast members?

Katia - She seemed too preoccupied with what the public would think of her, and rather than just submitting to her feelings for Jonas, she put herself first

Hedi - Fascinating stories and hilarious putdowns, but spent too much time in bed

Sov - Warmed to her after a few days and really began to like her, before stroppy moods and tantrums took over

Alex - He has been a real surprise, seems like a nice guy despite visible naivety and an obvious quest for fame

Dane - Been overshadowed a little and doesn't have a strong enough personality but seems lke a decent bloke

Ivanna - For some reason she really annoys me. Brings nothing to the house in terms of personality, disappointing really

Jonas - Makes me laugh, and has a shown a sweet, soft side with his feelings towards Katia. Probably too nice for his own good, but I want him to win

Stephanie - Too snobby for my liking and closed minded

Sisqo - Can be entertaining and humurous but sometimes sinks into the shadows a little

Nicola - Sweet girl, but with little real quality in terms of personality

Stephen - Can be funny with his delusions, but also very annoying with his preaching and quite disturbing with his control over Alex

Vinnie - Dominating, father-like figure and liked by all housemates. Can be a little moany but should win

It has been an action-packed two weeks or so, and I eagerly anticipate more twists, turns, and bitchiness :)

Football Crazy

Over the last couple of years, playing football has slowly slipped off my radar. My passion for following Liverpool FC has never wavered (despite some testing times of late), but I have failed to actively immerse myself in the sport for a good while. However, in a personal pledge to re-introduce spontaneity to my life, I decided to tag along with my dad and brother on Monday (18th January) as they went to their weekly indoor football.

Admittedly within minutes I was physically fucked and I regularly reached for a drink, but I brushed that aside as the rush of excitement that filled me every time the ball came to my feet was worth the consequent pain. The whole experience was incredibly invigorating and I felt like a little kid oncemore. When it came to an end, I just wanted to play all over again.

My performance? I got stuck in, gave and received a good few kicks. Alas, I failed to score a goal despite my best efforts; my closest shot rebounding agonisingly off the post. A couple of short spells rounded off the evening for me.

To those of you that read this, you may dismiss this as pointless bollocks, but it has sparked a turning point in my attitude and I am genuinely looking forward to next Monday.

Vampire Weekend: My New Favourite Band

At the time of its realease, their self-titled debut album never really craved my attention, despite some killer singles. I also missed their set at Leeds Festival, but that was due to unforeseen circumstances. So until this week, 'Vampire Weekend' have passed quietly under my radar.

However, after reading several positive reviews of their new LP, 'Contra', and armed with a small fortune, I decided to take the punt and purchased it. Imagine my surprise when for the next forty minutes or so, I was transfixed by ten brilliant tracks containing ingenious simplicity and a complete-sounding album.

Favourite track? At the moment, probably 'Taxi Cab', a ballad of sorts which captures the feeling of being separated from your loved one perfectly, without being too soppy. Kudos also to 'Giving Up The Gun', a track that has single written all over it, and should, with any justice storm the charts. Meanwhile, I have been singing 'Horchata' all week, a feat which is much more impressive considering the ridiculously catchy song is about a mexican drink.

It is has also enticed me to rediscover the first album in a new light, and I can't stop listening to either album. And they are playing Glastonbury, so I will soon get to see them live! Woop!

A confused start to the year

"Happy New Year!" we all shouted at midnight, eagerly anticipating the excitement and unknown of the coming twelve months.

Fast forward a week, and this strange feeling of regret filled me. This is something I ordinarily try to avoid, but it was suddenly overwhelming. My life had slipped into a predictable routine and nothing excited me.

The last couple of days though have been refreshing with new university modules to sink my teeth into and going away to a cottage at the end of the month providing something to look forward to.

I am hoping that these create a direction for my life, because as of late I feel like I have just been existing rather than living, and I want to rekindle my passion for writing, therefore giving me something to work at.