Unintentional Hipster

I just like wearing women's jeans, not eating animal products and writing shit nobody cares about. It was an accident, I swear

Archive for the month “June, 2012”

Poetry, what happened to you bro?!

Just to clear things up really quickly: I’m not talking to poetry in general and being all like, “Hey poetry, you used to be cool man…Till the MAN got hold of you and discovered way too many words that rhyme with vagina and made too much emphasis on the colour of the skin of the girl singing dat poetry man…” No, I’m not talking to poetry in general-I’m talking to my own poetry!

And also, although this may have been better to write first although I’m not copying and pasting again-this mightn’t make sense at all if you haven’t read my other stuff. If you still don’t care-thank you, I love you and party on Garth.

So I said a few days ago (drunkenly) that I was going to post poems that I had been writing every day on here, just to try and share a little bit of razzamatazz and try to find new ways in which to express myself cause I was feeling like I simply didn’t have the means to do it any other way. Still sorta feel that way a little bit what whatever, not the point. I’ve still been writing every day-on here and in my little Nanushka journals but I have no more poetry in me to write. It’s obscene-considering the quality of what there was before that I’m already burnt out. It makes me a little bit sad, cause I was actually having a decent little bit of fun with it. It’s like with piano-although piano has been just fun as opposed to a good emotional outlet (see, with piano I can’t play it for shit but I feel like keyboard cat and with poetry I know how to use, at the very least, all the fundamentals of the language, whether or not my ability to put it together is satisfactory…well now I feel like dog…Image

(I know this is technically the wrong meme for it but OMFG LOOK IT THINKS IT’S A BUNNY HAWWWWWW)

A lot of what I reckon has happened is that I’ve simply run out of methods within poetry to express myself. I mean, how many poems can one person write about how they love the environment and animals or are heinously in love with a girl? Oh wait…that’s right…most every song made over the last 50 years. Ma bad.

Yeah. I’m not sure what really happened. Part of the reason for this is that I know I have friends that read this and I know that I have followers who I’ve no idea of who they actually are that write their own poetry and probably most certainly know actual poets (or talented lyricists-if anyone knows any of those too I’m down.) SOOOOO that means that I can ask for advice on who to read/what to listen to 🙂

This is me, Toby,  now asking of you to not only to trudge through this unforgivingly poorly structured blog even more than you already been, but to suggest possible methods of getting my chi (I know I’m using this word in the wrong concept, I’m not PC at all) back yo! I’m going to detox the SHIT out of my liver after my blood test on Friday cause whatever it is I’m sick with, I have abused this baby(my liver) to a point where it’s the Lindberg baby.

Yeah, that just happened. I just referenced my drinking to a tragedy involving a couple losing their baby. If we want to rewind and look at my last few months before I left Sydney, it’s really not that lacking in reason.

I am the Red Dragon (for those who know me shall fear yet love me).

Anywho, hope everyone’s week is going well! Nearly the weekend yayy! It’s my birthday soon too so that makes me a bit more chipper! Thinking about detoxing until the weekend of my birthday to smack shit up with Janine-no caffeine, no nicotine, no drugs (even though I don’t take them anyways) and no alcohol. At the least-no caffeine, no alcohol and less nicotine. Watchy’all think? ESPECIALLY TO YOU LIKE, RAW VEGANS WHO ARE FOLLOWING ME I KNOW WHO YOU ARE TEACH ME TO DETOX PLZ “__”

Lovez youse allz!
Toby Fredkin

Home, yet somewhere so far from it…

So, second day of having a job in London done! The job still isn’t really like a job cause we’re in very early training phases still. It’s mostly been just revision on what makes a good barback a good barback and then I remember my old job, where the training was pretty much, “This goes here, that goes there. Got it? Sweet. Now smmmmile!” And some other random yellings of a grumpy Englishman…But it feels good to be employed yet routine again.

So my friends/anybody else who has read the normal blogs will probably know I’ve not been in the healthiest state lately and I’m struggling to pinpoint exactly whether it’s a purely physical thing or a bit of a mental thing as well dragging me down. I’m running crazy low on energy and motivation and I feel like the people I’ve just started working with sorta look at me like a funny, mute geek. The fact that whilst we were waiting to start this morning, instead of chatting to a French girl sat next to me I took a Joseph Heller novel out of my bag and read. Yeah, that actually happened.

I’m not really sure what it is and I had an interesting thought. So there were a few different reasons that I left Sydney to move to London and I will be perfectly up-front and honest with all of you right now: one of the least pertinent reasons towards making the decision to do this was to pursue a career in music. It’s not that I’m thinking any differently now to how I was before, it’s just there were stacks of other things. I’ve already sort of established myself as feeling very at home-I have a bedroom with posters of the Beatles and Pink Floyd on the wall, some musical instruments littering the place and a desk whose sole purpose is to be unused for everything but losing my keys on. I’ve always been a pretty homely person (if you’re hard into horoscopes, I’m a Cancer. At least my starsign says I can be this feminine without it being weird..) but I’ve never felt that comfortable at home I suppose. It’s nothing at all to do with home life or company but over the last year-ish I’ve just been so uncomfortable everywhere I was.

Anyways, I got that same pang on the tube home from work that I’d get on the train home from work back in Sydney-“I need to get me the fuck out of here.” This time instead of, “I need to move to London…”, I got an, “I need to move to Brighton…” It’s the strangest thing.

So I’ve come up with two possibilities as to this thought train. Well..technically three but the third one is lame and enjoys having a sneaky make-out in the corner with science. So, the first reason is that I simply haven’t found the right place for me yet, somewhere that I can really feel comfortable and really at home. It’s a feeling I haven’t honestly had since I was about 16 or 17. So the alternative to that is to…maybe, well…get the fuck out of here? Stick it out for a bit longer, keep eating brown rice, quit my job, either move to Brighton or send half of my shit home and buy a massive backpack and travel Europe while I still have money. It sounds very appealing but it’s against what I had originally planned. But does that matter for shit? I honestly don’t know..

The second possible reason I figured out is that I am crazy, my friends from my KHS days will testify I’ve been crazy for quite some time and maybe I just needed to come somewhere to be a bit more by myself to just totally and utterly lose my shit. I have to say, I feel like this is the one. Somewhere to learn to live in and love my own company.

The third one is the most reasonable and I like it the least. It’s that I’ve been eating shockingly poorly the last few months, I haven’t been to gym in over 2 months and my body is shocked from how bad my diet and alcohol intake has been as of late (and not even that long ago…).

I think I’m going to get my body balanced out before I make any rash decisions to blow $10k ish seeing the world, since it’d most likely be alone. I don’t know if that would remedy it.

I don’t really remember what the point of this blog was. I just wanted to write a blog about a strange feeling I was having. To y’all back home-I obviously miss you all very dearly and hope everything’s going just swell! Keep well and I promise to try and get healthier. Doctor’s appointment super soon yyyyeah!

Peace out!
Toby Fredkin

Poem of the Day 24/06/2012: The Moon

The Moon

Sometimes on cold, dark, starless nights,
On nights that are just like these,
Me and my cigarettes sit outside
In the cold, dark, starless breeze.

I take out a friend and ask him,
“When will I feel at home?”
He flickers with a bright idea
And puff! I’m all alone.

Then, the moon pops out his face
And says, “Well, how’d you do?”
“Well, I’m a little bit lost my friend,
But tell me, how are you?”

“I feel a bit on the dark side,” he tells me
Whilst he wears that funny old frown,
“I’m inexplicably attracted to this Earth
But I can’t stop circling round.”

“Well that’s no good!” I exclaim
With all my sympathies to his ply
And I turn to offer him a drink
But it’s a cold, dark, moonless sky.

So I grab another friend and ask him,
“Do you think he’s coming back?”
But my friend, he didn’t stay for long
And the moon hurtled through the black.

“Look who I’ve just found!” he delights
With singing stars by his side.
“I feel myself growing fuller now!
I can feel the change in the tides!”

“Now that one’s just not funny,” I remark
As I try to hide my smile.
“I’ve missed you looking quite so ravishing,
Maybe you could stay a while?”

So my friends and him, we sit outside
Whilst the flickering stars, they play.
But they’ve started to burn less brightly now
And I can feel the coming day.

“I can see that you’re still frowning,”
I sadly tell my fading friend.
“Is because you and Earth still float apart
At the coming of this night’s end?”

And as his face droops lower and he shines with less brilliance,
He becomes suddenly serious. He leans in and whispers to me to listen.
So I do.

“it’s a curse that you and I both share
To shine brighter through black than blue.
But you don’t need to shine as brightly
If you’ve got bright company with you.”

And though the loves
Of the heavens above
May spend an eternity almost in bloom,
I will stoically wait,
As t’is my fate
To wait, just like the moon.

I write music and stuff.

Hey! To my like, five followers-I assume most of you follow me because you like ethics, vegans or poetry and this girl is a highly ethical vegan who writes songs and sings. Yuh. Also I want you to watch me play guitar SQUEEE

inner-logue.

 

This is my amazing friend Toby Fredkin and I having a bit of a giggle and playing the first song we’ve ever written together 🙂 I stayed with Toby for a month in England and couldn’t be more thankful to him for being the most welcoming, hospitable and loveliest bro ever. So glad we got to play some music together, and so glad we can.

 

He also blogs! So I’ll share with you his wordpress site… not sure what good it’ll do since I’m almost certain that the only people who read this are the folks who work at China Daily News (they’re following me, wut?), my Mum… and Toby.

 

So here it is! https://fredkinstein.wordpress.com/

 

PS; Miss you Tobywan!

 

xo

 

View original post

Toby’s first steps anti-veganing and first(real) job overseas!

Image

Top of the evening y’all! Everybody have a good weekend? Mine wasn’t too shabby, I really want to get heaps up and arms and say it was awful after a minor incident involving two girls, my brother’s rules for playing kings and a towel we definitely can’t use anymore, but it was okay. I had intended on going out for a big, crazy, heinously silly night to celebrate my friend Toby(again, not mine-I actually have a friend called Toby)’s birthday but I was still so hungover from Thursday night I guess being inside on a Saturday wasn’t too bad 🙂 This is just a little what’s been happening blog, nothing deep or meaningful. Soz lads!

So tomorrow, I start my first (real) job in London yay!! I say first “real” job because I worked for an events company for three days then resigned with a letter and a voicemail with more of the “f” word and “d” word in it than Ke$ha “f”s them “d”s y’feel me? They kinda lied to me about how long I would have to be spending working and what my rates of pay were and it was terribly sad. I’m certainly not bad at my job and would have appreciated just a touch more respect I s’pose. Wankers.

Anywho-working as a barback at some manner of an Asian-themed casino HUZZAH! Party party party I hope there’s Japanese hookers! What? Not for me…like I could afford that, I mean would want that. SHUT UP!

So that should present a pleasant distraction from some of the little things panging around in my head. One of the things that sorta getting to me the most at the moment is, of course, Veganism. I like I wrote in my other blog on being vegan, I got a little bit sick soon after going vegan and now weigh just under 51kg, which is worrying to say the very least. So, I’ve gone out and I’ve bought just a bottle of milk and a  half-dozen eggs to try and work my way through. And it is killing me emotionally. I never remember when I became such a sook about this sort of stuff, and I’ve only been vegan a month!

I managed to eat my first egg in over a month today and it made me feel so sick. Not the flavour, I won’t lie to you, it was absolutely delicious (still got that knack for the perfect egg I does!) and I think the taste was my body saying “yeah! F*** yeah man eat that egg IT’S SO GOOD FOR YOU! Then I thought about the few chickens it would have come from, in a room full of probably 20 000 other chickens and was just..sad. So sad it made me feel physically ill. For some reason, I didn’t have as much problem with the milk as the eggs but the eggs really hit me hard, I dunno. I’m still avoiding all general products with animals products in it (so no ice-cream or cheese and no egg stuffs in food), just straight eggs and straight milk and far too many vitamins. Or not enough. I just wanna be healthy again! Even though it’s probably not the vitamins, it’s probably the lack of meat/animal products.

I know the human body is in theory designed to consume animal products (especially meat) but that still doesn’t make me feel any better that I have to do it. Brrr. I’ll get over it I’m sure.

I know this blog isn’t super constructive but I just wanted to share a lil bit of what was going on with it. Gym membership starts soon, protein powder gets here soon and to the gym I go! To try and get my weight super high so I can stop with all the animal nonsense and be happy happy joy joy ^_^

Peace out, I’ll hit chy’all with some poetry later.

Have a swell week!

Toby Fredkin

Inappropriate Distractions?

ImageHeyy what’s cracking everybody? Quick pre-warning, this is a little bit sappy and lame and whiney and all those things that lots of people hate, so if you dont’ want to read that sorta thing then please, you don’t have to go on 🙂

So even though it’s been going on for a few months now and what’s happening right now isn’t really all that different from what’s happened before, I’ve had an awful lot of things on my mind. Admittedly a bit more at the moment than before but whatever. And naturally, like anybody going mental, I’m trying to find other pleasantries to fill my time with to try and take my mind off of things but I can never tell what the right thing to do is.

So first of all, I tried what I call the “exam method.” Relatively simple, you treat your problems as if you were your average, run-of-the-mill arts student and your problems were an upcoming final assessment. You do every, single, menial little task you can find to avoid having to deal with the problem. So, I did all the washing of all my clothes, stain removal and sheets and everything, on a washing machine that takes roughly three hours to complete itself. I sweeped, vacuumed and mopped pretty much every surface in the house. It was fucking beautiful I tells ya!

But that was only about six hours of one day. So as far as procrastinating for an exam the next day goes, it was wildly successful. Forgetting all my problems ever, unsuccessful. However, this is certainly a socially and healthily acceptable way to distract one’s self.

Then I tried reading books and watching films. Didn’t work. Very socially acceptable, incredibly inefficient as a real distraction method.

Of course, a logical place for me to go after this was music, being a musician these seemed an appropriate avenue to travel down. Listening to it did me a fat pile of bad, cause it’s like every sad song was written about my problems, every happy song about what life would be like if they were to resolve themselves aaaaand then the songs that are girls singing about their vajayjays make me sad considering how little money I make musically and seemed to only add to the problem. Then I went to play it and I kept playing sad music. “Oh, let’s write reggae!”
“Yeah! In a minor key! Bwahaha!”
Scumbag brain.

Then I tried the most straight-ahead and used distraction method I can think of amongst people my age: hard-liquor. This I find to be an especially efficient method, as I’m by no means an emotional drunk. This distraction, however, is very easy to misconstrue as being an “inappropriate way to deal with your problems.” Well shit, tell me an appropriate way without paying $150 an hour for a shrink and I’ll do it. But sometimes you just need to get silly, get vodka’d up, go to a club with loud, crappy music and dance it out. Hit on everything that moves and subsequently, be rejected by everything that moves. (The most common rejection line used on this specific evening? “Oh sorry, I thought you were gay and I was trying to wingman you for my gay best friend. Are you gay though?” Brutal man.)

And here I am writing now, trying to get stuff off of my mind. See, it’s funny that I’ve developed a problem with how I deal with my problems and now I’m trying to solve that problem about the problem and it’s proving problematic.

Screw this, I’m going to go get Thai food. THEN IT’S TOBY’S BIRTHDAY TONIGHT YAYYY!(Asian Toby’s…not mine)

Rejection game? Rejection game! Tonight I plan to clear the number thirty. The only way to deal with feeling bad about yourself is to literally turn feeling bad about yourself into an artform. Turns out I’m not very good at writing but damned good at being rejected by women.

An inappropriate distraction? Probably. But I feel with things like this, two bads can make it good, right?

Right.

Poem of the day: 23/06/2012

ImageHere’s another one! This one isn’t serious, it’s a little joke poem for a dear little friend of mine. Even if she is a bit horse-ish <3(fairly sure I’m the rabbit)

Did you know sometimes I hate you?
Not really but please understand
it’s through no fault or flaw of your own
I just kinda wanna maybe hold your hand.

Although I could twist my words and say it is your fault
For being such a cutie.
Not because of the blonde or because of the blue
But the diet for that booty!

And though this may make me seem dirty
Don’t think me insincere,
I also blame your charm and wit
And patient listening ear.

You make my life seem like a meme
That’s not even Bad Luck Brian,
It’s more like Carly Rae Jepsem lyrics,
Except as if she were trying.

But now this poem I’m afraid
Must steer a different course.
I’m starting to get emotional
And you’re starting to look like a horse.

Not really but I promised that I would slip that line in,
Even though it was in all truth very touch and go,
Now let’s stop beating round the bush
And let’s let out that fro!

This poem’s not that great
And people might not get it,
But I just had to say I love you dear
And don’t you ever forget it!

And hopefully when you get here
I can stop writing poetry,
Cause you’ll help me stop feeling sad
And I’m shit at making stuff rhyme.
Orange.

Poem of the day: 22/06/2012

Even though it’s technically the 23rd, I’m still awake from the 22nd so counting it as that date. And as I promised, regardless of how embarrassing it may be, here’s the first poem I’ve publicly shared since I was sixteen. Enjoy!

 

I remember that you

as a child –

still fresh-faced and unburdened by your world

had a special little jewellery box

filled only with your most special things-

things only for you.

 

And as you grew older,

barely still a child

but still enamoured with the world

held onto this special little jewellery box

filled only with your most special things-

things only for you.

 

I remember when the yellow-hearted thieves

saw you no longer a child

start to float away from the world,

grasping for your special little jewellery box

laden only with your most special things-

things only for you.

 

And as you drifted ever upwards

bearing no more semblance to this child,

no longer a part of their yellow world

try to damage that special little jewellery box

packed only with your most special things-

things only for you.

 

And as you now stand before me,

a child in knight’s armour

again enamoured with your world,

I think that it’s time to open your special little jewellery box,

still full of your most special things-

things only for you.

Hangover Hatred: Anti-commercial music wankers

Image

Good afternoon everybody! How we all doing?! Good?! YEAH FUCK YEAH I’M SO HUNGOVER HABAWWWWWW

So like how I seem to have promised myself at 4:30 in the morning…on this blog, to share my absolutely horrendous, god-awful poetry (and if you were ever a girl I was trying to sleep with in high-school or used to follow my blogs back when I was wayyyy younger on myspace, then you’d know…it’s fair shite), I feel like creating a little regular thing to do. I’m going to call this thing Hangover Hatred (nice ring to it ay?). It’s basically the same as Peter Griffin’s, “You Know What Really Grinds My Gears?” thing, except I’m not that funny. See, I could have made a successful joke about how I would grind your gears but no, I didn’t. I’m that guy. That guy who is not that other guy who does thing.

So, the point of this blog is to have a bit of a rant and rave over people who don’t like commercial music and call it utter shite for little other reason than it’s popular. Now, I’m not talking about a classical musician, who doesn’t dig ANY form of contemporary music, even contemporary classical. I’m also not talking about people who just don’t dig Ke$ha cause she’s a power slut, coke-headed out of tune mongrel dog…people like me I suppose…

No, I’m talking about the intentional hipsters who hate everything commercialised simply because it’s successful, and therefore make absolutely heinous assumptions about the artists based upon them being popular. I once heard somebody call BeyoncĂ© a shit singer because they didn’t dig her style. Holy…like…I just…maybe…slap the stupid out of you boy? Or saying only old Kings of Leon tracks are good, before they “sold out”. They didn’t sell out you twit, they got famous. Their music was considered better by a wider audience..more people wanted to listen to it and buy it…I wasn’t aware selling out was a perfect synonym for successful? Weird.

There’s that funny little misconception that because it’s pop music, it’s all really simple and super easy and anybody can do it, anybody can write it or play it or sing it. If that’s true, then why doesn’t that slutty brunette girl I went to high school with who has far from any problem giving it away for nothing let alone if it were to further her career  not famous? Well…because she, although not awful, doesn’t have what it takes. Yeah she was kinda hot and yeah she could sing and she wouldn’t have an issue using her sex appeal to sell but…she didn’t have what it takes.

Or guys like John Mayer. Man, I’ve been playing guitar for eight years with a relatively solid practice regime and if I had a knickel for every solo of his I couldn’t play, well I’d have a shitload of knickels.

The thing that…well, really grinds my gears is when people say “So and so totally sold out!” when talking about music. A great example of this would be the Red Hot Chili Peppers with the album Californication, or if you’re hardcore hipster about it all, Blood, Sugar, Sex, Magik. Now, I am an outrageous RHCP fan, I intend on getting at least two tattoos directly related to them in my lifetime and know my way through the majority of their catalogue very, very well. But I’m not a fan in denial, I know that their first big commercial success, which was BSSM, was up to that point th eir best album. In terms of lyrics, song structure, musicality, performance, everything just takes the cake on anything previous. It was also a huge defining point for a hell of a lot of musicians all over the world in what they would or would not do. But, many hipsters, in their infinite wisdom, define everything post Slovak’s death (including Mother’s Milk) as rubbish-people can’t write good music? Crazy. JUST CRAZY

I still haven’t figured out if Nelly Furtado “sold out” or not. She pulls off that promiscuity amazingly so maybe she just always had it in her. I don’t like it, but if you got it flaunt I suppose. And anybody who says Lady Gaga “sold out” after seeing the videos of her performing playing piano and what not, ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR FREAKING MIND?! CAN YOU IMAGINE HOW MUCH FUN SHE IS HAVING?!!! SHE’S LIVING THE DREAM! SHE’S A GAY ICON, A SEX ICON, A POP ICON, AN ICON FFS! Don’t be silly. SIlly heads!

Admittedly I started this blog like 6 hours ago when I was hungover and just came back to it now, realizing it has lain here unposted for hours. I feel much better now but this is all still true, just poorly worded. Just remember  the moral of my hangover:

If you don’t like something, it doesn’t mean it’s shit. Vivaldi is far from being a shitty composer, he’s awesome, but he bores me dickless and I really don’t enjoy it.

Sometimes, it’s okay to just write music for other people. Nobody wrote music for themselves to just express themselves before the middle of the 19th century. There’s nothing wrong with making money.

Yes, being talented with a computer does make you a musician too. I mean, you can keep the pitch matched up and set triggers and use auto-tune but realistically, it’s hard to make music that anyone likes and if people can do that using nothing but a computer, then fuck it, I say they’re just as much of a musician as I am.

Simple isn’t bad!

Yeah that’s it. Cool. I feel SOOO much better.

Hope everybody has a smashing weekend (and for y’all back home hope the first night hasn’t munted y’all too badly!) and I loves youze all.

Except Joe. You’re an asshole.

Toby Fredkin

The Soppy Stuff….ish?

So I’ve started keeping a diary as well as a blog (because writing keeps my mind off of things that this little lad of an emotional roller-coaster would rather not think about) so every day I’m going to try and post one of the little poems I write in my diary. The last few days I’ve been writing about five poems+diary entires, so I’ll pick the best of what I’ve written on the day and post it!

 

If you don’t dig it, I’m super cool with that. Because in all honesty, I’m a fairly shite poet and I’m only posting them because I like having this little personal space to share what’s going on in my head. And the stuff going on in there, not to sound like your stereotypical emo bitch drinking in Hyde Park on an early Tuesday afternoon, is completely messed.

 

It’ll be a jolly good time, honestly!

Toby Fredkin.

Post Navigation

%d bloggers like this: