Life in a blog

I have waited a long time to write this blog. Not because I wouldn’t know what to write in it, I pretty much had this all in my head for a long time now. No, it’s more because I needed the right time to write this. The right mood. The right feeling. Well now here it is. I know it might hurt some people but I don’t care. As an aspiring writer I feel it is my duty to express myself, especially on subjects as blogging and writing per se.
So I was reading through one of my friends’ blogs.

There are several kinds of writing out there. I told you before and I’ll tell you again. There’s shallow, useless writing. There’s political writing, that kind that makes you want to start a movement. There’s personal writing.
This is about shallow writing. Empty writing. The kind of writing that puts me in this mood. Useless writing. You read it and it doesn’t do anything for you. Guess what, „writer“, I don’t want to know what you ate yesterday and what tv show you saw after that, even if it might sound so fucking interesting to you. Nobody wants to know that. If you want to put something out there for your friends, at least give them something they don’t have to pretentd to like. You can talk about your day alright, as long as you come to some kind of conclusion. What does it help me if I know in which kind of evening activity you joined in? Was I there? No. So I couldn’t recall any good memories from it. All I have is your mediocre English and a writing style that makes me want to bring up my breakfast – which was Rise Krispies, if you're interested in any way.
Some people really shouldn’t write things. And if they really have to, the world would be a much happier place if they did it in secret. Go buy yourself a diary with a little cute lock on it. Cause that’s where that shit belongs. Locked up, between oh so cute puppie heads and little hearts.

I guess writing is such a normal activity that anybody can claim to be able to do it.
Putting words after another, easy.
Writing a formal letter when needed, okay.
Expressing your thoughts in a manner that engages the reader? Not so much.

Some people really shouldn’t write.

I just came back from the cinema – as I happen to do quite often lately. Anyway, today, after a much too long time of waiting, my friends and me finally saw Slumdog Millionaire, which now attracts even more people due to their immense success at this year’s Academy Awards. Of course, after reading so much about this movie, I did have quite high expectations. But most of all, I relied on the opinion of my friends – all saying that this is THE movie to watch, that you really live with the characters through their whole turbulent lives and so on. So Danny Boyle must’ve done something right, right?
Shortly after the Oscar celebrations I read a tiny article in the beloved Metro about Danny Boyle’s father not being as enthusiastic as the rest of the world, or so it seems. He said the film was decent but that his son could’ve done better.
Now, personally, for me, the movie was good. I can say with confidence that it is a good movie. However it could’ve been better. Due to the film being set all around that Who Wants To Be A Millionaire show, it is split up in several fragments. Although it doesn’t make you loose the trail of their story, I don’t think it allows any deeper connection for the spectator to make with the characters. A whole bunch of fragments in this movie are very real, almost too real. I very much appreciate the director’s sincerity when it comes down to portraying the Indian slums, and I think everybody should see that the world put on screen is real, that there are still millions of children whose faith that truly is. However, I don’t think the whole prison scene should’ve needed the realism it had. For all the sadness that is already in this movie, for all the poor children and murderers, I think we would’ve understood ourselves the graveness of that prison, even without the beating, the drowning and the electro shocks.

So what exactly did it lack? Maybe it needed a bit less fake realism and a little more bollywood, for, however tragic the history of India might be, that’s what kept them alive, and that’s how those people really are. A little more colour in those settings covered by dust and dirt, a little more happiness in those children’s faces, and even if it was only because somebody escaped for once.

All in all this is a good movie. If you want to watch it, go. If you don’t necessarily need to watch it, don’t. I was curious, I wanted to know what the hype was about and now I know. Or I don’t know, for that matter. But whatever way you look at it, Slumdog Millionaire is an exceptional movie – exceptional because for once, a major motion picture, a blockbuster, a multiple award winning movie, did not shy back from the reality that’s out there and maybe, even if it’s just one single person out there, it did make an impact on someone.

I went to a punk concert yesterday. Or at least I thought I did.
I’m gonna be quite frank with this. I can’t and won’t talk around it and I’m really the last person to censor my own thoughts.

So it was Anti-Flag. Thanks to a friend of mine, I was on the guestlist. She sorta knows the band. The three of us arrived in Glasgow and it was rainy and windy. Obviously. We arrived at the venue and that’s the first time this thought came to my mind. What the fuck happened? I was scanning the crowd again, looking for a sign that I’m really at the right venue cause after all, at a Rise Against and Anti-Flag concert you would expect some punks, right? I really really hate to say this but I just have to, even though I’ve been called names all my life and I hated it. Emos. A lot of them. Is this a punk concert? I don’t know.

But as soon as the band came on stage all my worries were forgotten. This was the real Anti-Flag, the ones that make me feel incredibly strong, yes almost invincible, they make me feel like I can achieve anything if I just do something. Number 2 had one of his speeches near the end of the set and I must admit it really touched me. I know, the words were the same, the paroles were the same, I’ve heard it all before; but seeing him stand on that stage and say it, scream it out loud, made me believe in all of this again. It made me think about a lot of stuff, it made me re-think stuff as well, but most of all, it made me believe that there are still people out there who DO make a difference.

And then the after show party. You know, I’m really the last one allowed to point fingers at people, but after building up a certain picture of your idol in your mind, it’s hard to see it destroyed in front of your eyes. Of course they are all human. Of course. They are humans with very strong beliefs, or at least that’s how I think of them. Girls? A lot of girls? Alcohol? Was this still the punk band I used to know? I don’t know.

We live in a world where veganism and straight edge are the new punk. But what happened to the old punk? The ones that go on the street, and not only to protest against Kentucky Fried fucking Chicken? Yes, the environment is important, it has always been, but what about us? The ones that won’t quiet down just because society tells them to do so? What about the people who refuse to count material things as valuable? Where are the spikes, the mohawks, the leather jackets, the doc martens? I don’t know.

Davey destroyed the punk scene?
It’s already destroyed.

After all of that, after writing this down even if I’m still not sure if it’s the right thing to do, to put it out there; after listening to Die For The Government, which is in my opinion one of the best records AF ever made, if not THE best, after thinking a lot, thinking about how people change, why they change and if it is possible to change so much after living a life of such strong beliefs, I tell you:

This is not about or for Anti-Flag.
This is for you, Miriam and Lovisa.

Cause I know, that despite of what I’ve seen yesterday, there are still people out there that tell you to fuck police brutality and that wars will never be over unless we unite ourselves and destroy all borders. Cause after all, how can we act in unison when we don’t even know anymore what unites us? One people, one struggle.

In the words of Chris Nr 2 and Anti-Flag, who I still admire and love:
If tomorrow you hear somebody say something racist, sexist or homophobic, speak out loud, stand up for yourself, because you know that we will back you up.
We are not alone. And together we will fight until the world we live in is a better place for everyone.

LOVE. PEACE. UNITY.