Caine’s Arcade

Forehead Tittaes

Shit University students say

Happy Pancake Day

This is the first time I’ve cried in 2 weeks, I think. 

That’s amazing for me.

The frustration [and a sudden cold] has gotten to me. 

And also the fact that I need to make a website and print business cards, neither of which I really know how to do/how best to do. This adds to my frustration.

My lips are also heavily chapped and my nose is red raw and I feel like someone has been smoking in my mouth.

lorettalove:

I am equal parts fascinated and confused.

Ditto the equal parts fascinated and confused.

The Bark Side

<3

I came across a thing while I was doing some shoe research.

It talked about The Slow Movement.

It’s not about acting slow, but it is about taking time to appreciate what you are doing right now.

Enjoy your minutes instead of counting them.

So, I decided to see what I could alter in my life to become ‘slower’. 

This morning, instead of being as angry as I am usually am at the slow-walking commuters in the underground, I made sure I left my house earlier so I wasn’t in as much of a rush, so that when I came upon the said slow-walking commuters, I was a bit more relaxed and just appreciated that they walk slower than I do, and consequently tripped over my feet a few times.

Before that, although I did stay in bed 35 minutes after my alarm had gone off because it was so cold, I did eat my breakfast without reading anything. I just sat and ate. Rarely do I just sit.

My day after that was as normal as every other day - working in retail. And I did eat my dinner quite rushed. Yet, I’ve been sat here for almost an hour trying to print out a huge image of a crocodile for some work. It’s a pain, but it’s necessary. So I’m just happily sat doing it, thankful that I’ll finally be able to get on with the next part of my work. 

This all came about really because last night I had the most perfect evening at the gym. Then I used the heated pool [with bird/rainforest sounds], the sauna and then the steam room. I walked home with a green tea. It was time to myself. Granted, I did share the sauna and steam room with a girl with Tourette Syndrome who apparently likes pritt sticks and Thundercats. But it was just magnificent doing things that I love. 

I’ve gotten in to such a rut. Last year wasn’t great and my body has taken a pelting. So I’m taking hold of the reigns and getting myself sorted. If it means paying more for a gym membership just so I can use a heated tranquil pool and steam room, then so be it. I’ll feel all the more better for it. 

I’m going to appreciate the minutes that I used. Even if it’s posting photos on Tumblr or sat on the toilet. It’s all necessary, or things that I like to do. 

It seems that The Slow Movement can apply to reading, travelling in a different manner and growing your own food, but mine applies to slowing down the anger and frustration I’ve felt over the last year. Slowing it down so that it wilts away and what’s left is this girl whom is happy and chilled and healthy. 

I don’t know if I’ll be able to wake up as soon as my alarm goes off as I plan on doing [I’ll probably just start setting my alarm later]. I don’t know if I’ll be able to work out first thing of a morning [I’m nocturnal]. And I know for damn sure that I’ll never be able to walk slow, but hopefully I’ll be able to get better at time-keeping and have less of a need to walk fast, and instead, take the time to walk that little bit slower because I can. 

I’m going to go now and appreciate the 10 minutes it takes to boil a kettle, make a cup of tea and open one of my research books. Then I’ll probably just sit on Facebook for another 10 minutes, but it doesn’t matter. I’m going to appreciate everything for what it is, and appreciate myself for what I am. Because some things just cannot be changed. [I’m talking about drinking tea at 23:28].

Advertising in New Cross, South East London

The biggest innovations in combat boots were engineered by Klaus Maertens, a German army doctor active during the war. Maertens injured his ankle and found that his military-issue combat boots were too uncomfortable for his injured foot. While on leave, he redesigned the boots with soft leather uppers and air-padded soles. When the war ended, Maertens set up a footwear business and manufactured the soles from discarded rubber found on Luftwaffe airfields. The comfortable soles were a big hit, and the boots became a popular choice for men and women. The style took off internationally when a British shoe company acquired the rights to manufacture the shoes in the UK. They anglicised the name, reshaped the heel, added the boot’s signature yellow stitching and trademarked the soles as AirWair. The first British version of the Dr. Martens boot came out in 1960. The boot was an 8-eyelet, cherry-red design crafted in Nappa leather. It was immediately popular among postmen, police officers, engineers and factory workers. By the late 1960s, skinheads started wearing them and by the end of the 1970s they were the favourite footwear of punks.

The Boot - Bradley Quinn

The first surviving reference to foot fetishism in Europe is by Franciscan theologian Bertold of Regensburg in around 1220. Warning of an impending epidemic of syphillis, he suggested sex with feet as an alternative to intercourse.

‘The Boot’ - Bradley Quinn

The age of technology - Twitter and Tumblr and Facebook and the almost retro SMS - has allowed for people to send little messages without worry of forgetting the news or thing they saw that they just have to tell someone. We can quickly just snap a photo and pass it on to a friend, or the world, without hesitation. 

But it doesn’t prevent the awkwardness you feel, when you’re more than happy to tell the world all of your little unusual observations and thoughts, but would much prefer to tell your ex. Only, your ex doesn’t seem to be around. It’s fair enough, we’ve all got busy lives, but there’s only so many times you can text him a day without being too pushy or I guess, as if you’re not letting him move on. 

I have moved on, but I miss my friend. There’s no satisfaction in telling the world via a post that I’ve seen something, only for them to not understand that thing because the only person who would understand may or may not see it. And then, if they do see it, they don’t text you to have a conversation about it, they’ll just let it go. There’s no need, anymore, to have face-to-face conversations. 

I’m more than a little bit upset, that after just calling my said ex, and feeling tentative about it in the first place, he tells me that it’s all just gone a bit crazy online because he and his friends have just got back from a hiking trip and they’re all posting photos and chatting. It seemed as though I was really, disturbing something crazily important that couldn’t be caught up on. As if the Internet doesn’t have history. I know I put him in that same position a few months ago when I returned from a trip to Denmark, but in my defence, we were in the same room and so, a little closer than being on the end of a phone. 

I hardly see this boy now. He tells told me he still loves loved me, that I’m still his best friend. Do I feel like he cares anymore? Do I feel like he’s just getting further away, and that on some level it’s on purpose? I’ve finally caught up with a girl friend I haven’t seen properly in years. Is the ex just going to end up the same? That even though we live so close, we grow so far apart because it’s just too much effort? I hope not. I feel as though I can’t even try to keep our friendship going because it’ll seem as if I’m being too pushy or not letting him move on or [because there have been ‘dinners’] that I don’t want things to move on… I really just want need my friend. I don’t have many, and I especially don’t have many that knows me like he does. 

It’s not the same having to tell all of you this, instead of him, but if he won’t give me more than 30 minutes on the phone, or 20 minutes in his flat unless I force conversation, then he’ll just have to read it on this old thing called the Internet instead.

Marc, I can’t lose you so please, stop pushing me away. One day I will just have to give up. And if you don’t mean to push me away, then, you know, don’t make me do all of the work. It’s too hard. This needs to be reciprocal. Otherwise, just tell me that it isn’t so that I can exert the energy elsewhere, where it is actually appreciated.