Don't make me crop you.

It took me about eight months to get to the point where I'm holding my first (after a damn long time) batch of printed photos. Why is this a big deal when my entire room is taped with photos? Because these are film photography, not digital. My family calls me odd all the time. I'm into old cars, old music, old men, old photography. I don't know what it is but I find old school everything, more authentic. Sometimes things need to be simple, without the added gears, gadgets and drama. 

I used film cameras when I was younger (yes, kids I am in fact that old, go back to playing in your wifi sandbox and leave grandma alone), I had a Pentax ME, dad's old Zenith, a bunch of low cost toys that did horrific pictures but they were toys after all and a borrowed professional camera. There's literally a huge HUGE box with thousands of prints somewhere in my house. Thing is these used to be cheap. Like a few cents worth per print and development, and these days they cost pretty much your soul and first born child. Madness. 

It's not that I lost interest, my old Zenith which was the last camera I used, got into a little accident with salt water (seriously I tell you all the time I live with animals), though I believe it's still in working condition, it would just have to be tested, but it's currently decoration, and when I stopped using that one, digital cameras just came on the market and the family bought what was considered very modern Canon at the time. Not a DSLR though, just a compact zoom camera. Wasn't bad, we still got it today. I guess looking at it that way, there's a ''couple'' cameras in our house. From old film ones that look pretty on the shelf to one that could pay for a car. But honestly, I think it's no secret that now upon seeing these pics, this one might be my absolute favourite one. 

Alright so, I'm sharing a few of my favourite pictures below (excuse the quality, taken with a phone, if I ever get my scanner working again I promise to upload a better version), taken with the Pentax ME, 50mm lens, on Fomapan / profi line action black and white film. People say this camera may be a bit too basic but that is exactly what I love about it. Plus it has a huge finder, a great shutter ready indicator and you can use it with a standard cable release. All in all it's great camera for it's build and age. There are many out there that are better but I'd say that's a matter of taste. I know I wouldn't trade this one for anything else similar. And you know what? The shutter sound? Oh my god! I love it so much. 

What if it's no longer safety but prison?

I'm having trouble writing content these days. Well, I'm always having trouble writing but these days…it's even harder. The funny thing is, it's not hard because I wouldn't know what to say, it's hard because I don't know how to say it. Hemingway said ''write hard and clear about what hurts'' and I'm afraid if I do that it might be a bit too much. Not to mention I find this blogging thing kinda pointless these days, when girls with Instagram profiles, with 5 lines under their duck face photos are so called ''bloggers'', makes me feel rather dumb pouring out my emotions. But then again on the other hand, I don't write to be read, I write to get shit off my chest. 

There is so much that hurts, so much that is wrong, so much that is killing me, that words just aren't coming close to a proper description. I guess most of us are realising we're not living in a perfect world, and just how messed up our families are, maybe I didn't expect all stages of abuse but then again maybe I just wasn't paying attention. Nothing changed, we're just forced to spend more time together and I guess I'm bitter. Bitter because as hard as this situation is, as messed up as the world is, it would be far less fucked up if you got to spend this lockdown with someone you love, someone who makes the world a better place, at least your world.  Bitter because the what if's are killing me and I know a happier dimension was possible for me too. So close, yet completely out of reach. But I caught a glimpse of it and it was enough to make me miserable for a life time because I know things will never be like they were before. 

I'm bitter because all my life, all people knew me as (besides other not as flattering things) was ''the artist''. I was always in trouble for doodling when I should be paying attention in class, and in middle school we had a long wall where art works usually were hung. It was filled with my work. Always. So I'm bitter because art is something I love, I love doing ''pointless scribbles'', I actually love sitting still for hours and sketching with music on, but what I don't love is constantly being put down for it. Like I'm sorry if my art isn't good enough to be sold of hung in galleries. I guess I can't seem to process why a person should give up doing something they love just because they're not turning a profit from it. I guess it's that much harder for me to understand when really, all art does for me is make me happy. Yeah getting paid to do it would be great but then I don't care about money, I like doing it, that should be enough. I get it an artist still has to pay bills, but unless you're fucking Monet or Picasso that aint happening anyways. Maybe what really makes me bitter here is a specific person who gets called a ''fantastic artist'' but all she really does is take photos for free promotional crap on social media. Maybe that's it. I have been trying for years and a blonde fake ass bimbo gets all the credit because that's just how the world works. It's not talent that counts, it's whos dick you're willing to suck. Excuse me for being blunt. 

And then there's that Amber and Johnny thing I wrote about some time ago? Yeah I'm back at it. It makes me want to scream how society is dead set on women being the victim and never the man. Don't even dare to argue with me, too much personal experience to not know what I'm talking about. The woman is always the victim even if she isn't. And I'm frustrated and hurt and mad because I hate comparing, I hate playing the game my horse is bigger than your horse, my struggle is worse than yours, but I think I can fairly say I've been through hell in my life and when someone who doesn't know how good they had it all their life, who doesn't understand struggles, or pain, or loss, or abuse, or lack of basically anything in their lives, mostly love, play pretend, lie, cheat, manipulate for personal gain, for sympathy, for god knows what kinda profits. Or maybe to just ruin someone's life. Destroy a mans career and life, someone who did nothing wrong, except maybe fell in love with the wrong woman, is getting all the shit he did not deserve because of lies and hatred and manipulation that us women are allowed to pull. Someone I care about very much may I add. People who use anxiety and PTSD as a joke, who use things such as assault, rape, abuse as a joke, I hate that. I hate those kinda people and it makes me phisically sick, looking back at my own struggles with those things and, knowing people who went through far worse and then watching these people play pretend. It makes me feel not just violated but used. Sick. Disgusted. Makes my skin literally crawl. 

I guess what's making me more bitter is that whole ''I could be happy'' the ''what if'' I mentioned earlier. I had everything I wanted, everything I loved just a year ago and funny thing is, I didn't have more than I have now, I wasn't miraculously cured, but I wasn't alone, I was with someone I love and who loved me and that made all the difference.  It's easier to fight your demons with the support of your family or with someone who loves you and believes in you no matter what, someone who has your back always and makes you fearless and brave and ready to face on any storm life throws you in. I guess it's literally as Bon Jovi sing ''it's hard, so hard, it's tearing out my heart, it's hard letting you go''. I guess it's even harder, when letting you go wasn't my choice, or yours for that matter. Just life. Being as hard as it is, tearing us apart at the seams. Funny. Sometimes love really isn't enough. Ever stopped and wondered how unfair it really is? Forces bigger than you, things you have no control over, tearing you apart like it's nothing. And all you're left with is broken pieces that nobody can ever put back together. Poetic aint it, but also true. Love might be the force that lifts you up and makes you grow, but it can also be the hurricane that tears you apart. And you may be a poet or a writer but the words are never your own, words are always the people, life, love. They make the stories, you just write them down. I guess what hurts the most is that most of those stories are tragedies. It's funny how we're all just sad kids with happy pictures, pretending. Telling others not to do what we do, telling them life gets better if they just hold on, when we ourselves don't believe in it. 

I guess it's hard dealing with life when you're battling daily headaches, mental and physical abuse, heartbreak, depression, and a worldwide crisis that's not even a virus but rightist governments ruining our lives. I guess my family tells me I have nothing to be stressed out over, have no reason not to sleep at night, but pushing the pain of everything aside, pushing aside crying over losing someone I love aside, I may very well stay up all night and worry about a future I no longer have. 

''Now the sky, it shines a different kind of blue and the neighbor's dog don't bark like he used to. Well, me, these days, I just miss you, it's the nights that I go insane. Unless you're coming back for me, that's the one thing I know that won't change.''

And I guess I'm a sadist, because all this pain isn't enough,…on top of it all I like to read books that rip out my heart (I'm looking at you John Green). It's not like I do much more than 5 pages a day in a house that's constantly filled with screaming. There you go, one more reason why I don't sleep at night. Feels a waste of peace when the nights, when everyone is asleep, is the only time alone and calm and quiet that you get. 

So here's a quick short review (BEWARE OF SPOILERS) of this sob fest I just finished reading, which actually puts your petty problems in perspective. Makes me feel like I shouldn't whine or complain, there's always someone who is in a deeper level of Inferno than I am.

(This is the movie based cover, make sure you check out the original cover that's supposed to picture a drawing by main character Stellas' sister. It's really creative and super cute. Literally  thinking of getting another copy just for that cover. Mine is movie based, cuz Cole. Too cute.)

( Rachael Lippincott, Mikki Daughtry, Tobias Iaconis / Teen, Drama, Romance. )

Synopsis;

''Stella Grant likes to be in control - even though her totally out of control lungs have sent her in and out of the hospital most of her life. At this point, what Stella needs to control most is her distance from anyone or anything that might pass along an infection and jeopardize the possibility of a lung transplant. Six feet apart. No exceptions.

The only thing Will Newman wants to be in control of is getting out of this hospital. He couldn't care less about his treatments or a fancy new clinical trial. Will's exactly what Stella needs to stay away from. But suddenly six feet apart doesn't feel like safety. It feels like punishment.

What if they could steal back just a little bit of the space their broken lungs have stolen from them? Would five feet apart really be so dangerous if it stops their hearts from breaking too?''

I didn't actually read the synopsis or any online opinion or review before picking up this book. I thought maybe people have to be 5 feet apart because they're contagious, you know something curable. Like this god damn Corona hell we're in. I did NOT expect the book to be this hopless and this sad, with an ending like it had. I imagined that both book, and movie based on the book (or the other way around, I'm not really sure) will be sad but you know, not too sad because it's about something that doesn't really exist in real life. Boy was I wrong. 

I guess being blissfully unaware of what the hell Cystic Fibrosis (CF) and B. Cepacia are and that the prison of no touching and six feet apart is actually real as well. I know from different reasons just how hard not hugging the one you love is. It's true like they say in the book, you don't know how much you miss the simple touch untill you go without.  I think this was just the point of this book though, to raise awareness about it. The sickness, the hell these kids (possibly adults as well?) have to go through daily. Maybe to show them that they're not alone, and maybe to show us that we are fucking lucky after all, despite our own struggles. It's important to be grateful for health,  to remember just how short life really is. All time low have a line in a song saying ''I'm just a moment, don't let me pass you by'', and that's just it isn't it? 90 something years may seem a lot, but looking at it from a different perspective, of how old the earth is, of how old the universe is, we really are just a moment. And that moment, our lives, man they're too short for being anything but happy. I guess the difference is that some of us can work on that happiness, while some are stuck in a place they can't escape. 

I guess just like Stella's sister in the book, those of us that can, owe it to people that can't to live our lives to the fullest. To enjoy things they can't. It's ridiculous to think, how many little things there are that we take for granted but some people can never enjoy. I guess Corona brought many things in perspective. Little things. Lunch with friends. Local bar concerts, friday nights in town, long warm summer nights with different events. It's hard and lonely and miserable with no place to go and nothing to do. And the ironic part is, we miss them when we don't have them, while still prefering to sit at home on our couches skipping out on things, skipping out on life really, just because we're too lazy to go out, but there's people that want to do these simple little things and they can't. 

I think stories like Five feet apart are stories that are supposed to inspire, as cheesy and dumb as it may sound, but really, I feel like that's the message behind it, to realise how lucky we are, to get off our asses and do something that matters, no matter how  small or insignificant it may be. To show us that feelings are valid, laughter, sadness, happiness, crying. It's all a part of life and it's all important. 

This book really is hell. Stella and Will, fuck. I felt their pain. Being in love and never being able to touch, never being able to be closer than six feet apart. I felt all the feelings I felt with the long distance and Skype calls. Though Skype and distance are not permanent like their condition is. But I'd say the pain is just the same, the missing, the longing, the heartache. 

Despite my inability to read this fast (believe me in a normal day it would take me less than one afternoon), this is not a long book. It has less than 300 pages and letters are quite big. I really liked the writing style of this book. Usually character point of view swapping each chapter bothers me for some reason but this one works okay like this. It's an easy going flow of writing, but still filled with plenty information. The sickness is well explained, the hell people go through is very well explained and still there's this lightness to it as well with jokes and cutesy first love themes that make things a bit better.  Maybe I'd wish for a bit more of their backstory, you hear some of Stella's back story but you don't hear much about Will or even Poe which I think it's a shame, it would make the book much better. 

This story is  supposed to be strongly influenced by a girl called Claire Wineland, Stellas character that is. Of course just like the book doesn't get a happy ending neither does this story, what did we expect, real life is even more brutal then the story world. So, sadly, Claire passed away but if you want to check out this video, you'll see why and just how much of a bright light and inspiration Claire really was. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kD_Fr3VAsYM

And in case you want to learn more about Claire, her life, her legacy, head on to;

https://clairesplacefoundation.org/

All in all I think this is a cute book, cute in a lets rip your heart out and put it in a blender kinda way. You know what that's like (still looking at you John Green).  I'd say it's a great teen / young adult novel but that doesn't mean older people can't pick it up and enjoy it. Just prepare to have your heart shredded and make you sad over things you can't control.

I guess this is the time when I log off, and do my little part of that whole ''get off your ass and do something'', there's a protest against the government in town and I'm prepared to smile for my mugshot. Just kidding, but on a serious note, I always say if voting and protests changed anything they were illegal and right this moment, protests in fact are illegal here so maybe that means there's hope. I hope you get inspired to do something this weekend too even if it's just to take out the trash. Baby steps guys, baby steps.

When suddenly, all the sad songs are not sad enough.

What the hell am I supposed to say, when I'm all choked up and you're okay? The Script sing something along those lines. This blog was supposed to be a music blog from the get go, never too personal, never political, never more than, well actually art. All types of it. But more times than not I stray from that. I stray from it because I can't keep silent on things that annoy me, things that hurt me, move me...that's just life isn't it? The problem is finding words to express anything sometimes. Sometimes it hurts too much, sometimes everything is too much. All the words I can't seem to find, in the lyrics of my currently most played ( and in most cases favorite ) songs. It's true what they say aint it? When the world falls silent, the music speaks. I may do this more often. Write down playlists. I guess these are my sad songs, but, like the title says, they don't seem to be sad enough today. 

Nazareth - Love hurts

White Lion - Wait

Def Leppard - When love and hate collide

Lee Brice - One of them girls

Sam Hunt - Break up in a small town

Luke Combs - Hurricane

Jimi Hendrix - The wind cried Mary

Aerosmith - You see me crying

Cheap Trick - The flame

The Doors - The end

Eagles - I can't tell you why

Black Sabbath - Changes

The Rolling stones - Wild horses

Led Zeppelin - All of my love

Motley Crue - You're all I need

Jeff Buckley - Hallelujah

Prince - Nothing compares 2 U

Johnny Cash - Hurt

Florida Georgia Line - May we all

Linkin Park - One more light

My Chemical romance - The light behind your eyes

INXS - Never tear us apart

Chris Isaac - Wicked game

Bruce Springsteen - Miracle

Guns N' Roses - Don't cry

Shinedown - Second chance

Skid Row - I remember you

Elvis Presley - It's now or never

Aerosmith - What it takes

Aerosmith - What could have been love

Roxette - It must have been love

Daughtry - Life after you

INXS - By my side

Scorpions - Wind of change

Ozzy Osbourne - Road to nowhere

Def Leppard - Bringin' on the heartbreak

Journey - Separate ways

Queen - Save me

Bon Jovi - These days

Bon Jovi - Letting you go

Opća Opasnost - Pobjego sam

Leteći Odred - Hajde reci mi

Keith Urban - You'll think of me

Cole Swindell - Break up in the end

Jason Aldean - Who's kissing you tonight

Blake Shelton - Everytime I hear that song

Van Halen - Not enough 

Cinderella - Don't know what you got

Warrant - Sometimes she cries

Life after you.

''All that I'm after is a life full of laughter as long as I'm laughing with you, and I think that all that still matters is love ever after after the life we've been through, cause I know there's no life after you.''

Why do people romanticize heartbreak? What is romantic or even beautiful about it? What is romantic about sitting in your shower at 2 am trying to contain your sobs. Nothing romantic about smoking just to help you remember how to breathe properly. It's not romantic looking for love at the bottom of a vodka bottle. It's not romantic when you just want to punch something, someone, anything, and you keep doing it until your knuckles are bruised and bleeding. It's not romantic when you wake up in the morning and wonder how did you even survive last night with the crushing sadness that literally caused you chest pain and wondering if you can make it through another such day. There is nothing romantic about reading old messages over and over and over again until it hurts so much that it's not just chest pain but pain all over your body. It's not romantic holding on to your sink, staring at the mirror and just begging yourself to keep going. What's romantic about something so tragic? So painful? So devastating? Something so lonely and hard? You don't just leave a person you love behind, you leave behind hopes, dreams, what if's, chances of what could be a fairytale type happiness.

Excuse me for dreaming. Dreaming that that forever still exists. Dreaming that true love is real. Dreaming that you actually get to spend all of your sunsets with that one person. Your person. But I guess in this world…there is no love left. No empathy. No compassion. 

I guess my question here is, if you get a second chance at all this. Happiness. Love. Forever. How do you trust someone who's hurt you in the past? Left your heart, if I put it poetically, bleeding broken on the floor? How do you know this time this is it? How do you know it won't happen again? Do you hope they learned their lesson? Do you hope second time around things will be different? Better? That history will not repeat itself? Nobody can guarantee that, you can only hope. You can only take that leap of faith…

I can't believe I'm even thinking about that silver screen type reunion. You know the one? When a hug so tight feels like it can put all your broken pieces back together. I can't believe I'm thinking sad stories with a hopless future can have a happy ending. I can't believe I'm letting myself dream that this is possible. I just can't. I can't be dreaming that the very person who subjected me to so much pain and sadness could be the one to take it all away. But then again if pickles and peanut butter work, why couldn't this? 

In a way I know that I could / should try to look for something new, but I also know that wherever I go I'll just be looking for what I had. And in a way all I wanna do is kiss him and kiss him again until there's nothing left but happiness. And in a way I just want to feel like home again, because nothing feels like home right now. No place. No people. Nothing besides his arms. And in a way I want him to get drunk and tell me how he really feels. No bullshit just feelings. And in a way I want to stop listening to songs and thinking of nothing but how it relates to him, and me, and us. And in a way I want to stop wondering how to move on from him when the truth is that nobody makes me feel quite like him. When it's bad it's bad yeah but when it's good, god it's so good. 

And then you know it just dawns on me. Am I losing my damn mind? Am I holding on to misery and calling it hope instead? And it dawns on me, hell I must really hate myself to be so madly fucking in love with him. And it's just like a friend of mine told me ''everything you love will kill you one day, cigarettes, alcohol, drugs, or them boys with pretty blue eyes, they all kill you in the end''. Yeah. 

What do you do when you're in the eye of the storm? A tornado of emotions? Why are you willing to forget all the pain and all the hurt? Because you're crazy? Sadistic? A hopless romantic? A dreamer?

I don't even know, all I know is that I am tired of feeling like this. Tired of missing him. Tired of hurting. Tired of being sad and lonely and crying. Tired of everything. Tired of dreaming. Tired of wishing. Tired of drowning and the heartache and the desire. And I guess if I can take it all away, then I would in a heart beat even if it meant that I could end up even more broken in the end. 

Baby I want you like the roses want the rain.

There is a flour disaster in my kitchen that I'm trying to avoid right now. Flour, egg, maple syrup kinda disaster that was supposed to be fluffy American pancakes but what it really is, is a sticky disaster and there are three possible culprits. A sticky cat, a tattooed man, or a little girl. My money is on the man though. I think neither of us have a career in being Master Chefs. While I keep myself out of that sticky situation (I barely washed the syrup out of my hair just now) and dry my hair and nails…I'm back here thinking how all of my music Mondays are now music Fridays. Someone suggested that I switch days, and I never actually do what I'm told but this seemed like a good idea because he said that he could do with a ''weekend music suggestion'' and besides, Mondays are the worst possible days, who has the energy to read long blogs on some such days. Also I could use a break from drawing. I've been pretty much doing nothing but,  my desk is covered with sketches and drawings at this point, so taking a breather is very welcome. 

I'm still deciding what music to review today. Truth is I haven't been listening to much vinyl these days, or CD's. Got youtube running in the background usually while drawing with my favourite mix and that's that or even rock radio, which (despite playing things I'd be embarrassed to play on what's suppoed to be rock radio station) actually plays good music. I never take music as just background noise but while drawing it is just something so it's not complete silence. I can't stand silence, it makes my skin crawl, but also while drawing I'm so focused on the drawing itself that I don't pay enough attention to music, Metallica swapped to Nickleback the other day and I noticed pretty much when the entire album already played out. Gross. 

There's a song playing on the radio in the back right now by a band with a funny name ''Hootie & The Blowfish'' gotta admit I don't know them, but there's something about the voice and the feel of this song ''Let her cry'' that made me stop for a minute and listen. I don't know, maybe something in the lyrics helped me relate to it. Long story really but to make it short, someone ripped my heart out too and I can't seem to walk away and the falling tears don't seem to help no more. Maybe music does. Actually music always does, there's nothing and no therapy quite like a dark room, a comfy bed, a soft (non sticky, covered in maple syrup) cat and say Michael Hutchences (or whatever else is your poison) voice. 

But this is not about Hutch. Sadly. I don't own enough of their vinyl to write up reviews about them. Sadly. Or maybe lucky for you guys. Or also lucky that I am just too tired to rant about politics that's bringing our country to hell in a handbasket these days. I'ma tell you what, it's not nice going to bed with Corona virus hanging over your head and waking up in a country you no longer know. I had the strongest desire to move since I was 16. I fell in love with Berlin, a city with a special vibe, special beat and I was dead set on going till a little while ago when I suddenly realised that there is only one home. Sure it's the people, family, friends, that make a home but really there's only one place I can call home and I find it proposterous to bolt and let these hyenas ruin my home. I want to make an opportunity for myself here. At home. I want to bring people who brought me down to their knees. I wanna be the last one standing and laughing if you know what I mean. I don't want to run like a coward. I want to be the winner on my own playing field. 

But enough about that, I was supposed to rant about music and that seems to be hard to do these days...so while I'm actually in a Motley Crue mood. Come on is there anything better than ''Kickstart my heart''? No not really. Specially when gorgeous long haired and madly talented singers do covers of it on youtube (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vZRRcE4xHCM). Sorry Crue, I have a bad crush on this boy. 

This post is actually about another boy that I really like. Or well I did. I mean I do. But old stuff. New stuff is not my flavour of the month. Really. The entire last album…well I already shared some thoughts on how I feel about it. Made me wanna hug my copy of New Jersey and cry my eyes out to be honest. So in that spirit, here's a review of a single vinyl for a change, of a song that's actually one of my favorites by this band.

Bon Jovi were my first really big concert. I grew up on smaller shows near and in my town, hanging backstage with musicians, sitting on their transport boxes. All very fond memories, but before Bon Jovi I haven't seen a huge stadium show. This one wasn't as big as say the Stones or Springsteen on Austrian and Italian biggest stadiums but it's one of my fondest memories. You know how your first time is a huge deal? Well losing your concert virginity is too. You always remember your firsts. And this concert was that much more special because Richie Sambora was still where he belongs. I'm sorry you can kill me, you can hang me, you can do whatever the hell you want but to me Phil just doesn't belong. He's a great musician no question about it but he's not Richie. 

They did ''In these arms'' in Croatia of course. Early on, in the first half of the concert too if I remember right. I mostly remember entire Zagreb, street lights and posts taped with the ''Have a nice day'' red stickers. I thought that was just too cool.

''In these arms'' was written by David Bryan, Jon Bon Jovi and Richie Sambora, another glowing example why Richie is so missed. The music and the lyrics are just not as good anymore. ''This house is not for sale''? Come on…''In these arms'' is the old Bon Jovi, the Bon Jovi that I love so much and this song, well, this song is absolutely beautiful. It's about everlasting love and about devotion and about that whole fairytale forever love we all dream about. It's not a ballad though, it's more of a pop rock song, the rhythm is fast, strong bass and guitars and a light drum line. And Jon's voice, well, that is just perfect. Soulful, emotional, hair raising. 

''In these arms'' is a fan favorite, which is pretty obvious. Some songs are just obviously favourites. Like ''Living on a prayer'' you can just tell that that is one of the most loved song. The screaming, the singing along, it's such a hair raising moment. They closed their set with Living on a prayer in Croatia and it was probably the best moment of the entire concert. ''In these arms'' is one such song. It's a huge stamp in the bands setlist on  more than one tour, they obviously played it a lot on the ''Have a nice day'' tour and also ''Lost highway'' tour as well as on random playlists on pretty much all concerts. Of course years later when I saw them again in Milano Italy they played it again. 

Usually when playing ''In these arms'' (and this is a huge reason why I love it) live, Jon would let David Bryan sing a portion of the song, and I just LOVE his voice. His own version of the song also appears on a solo album released in 2000, titled ''Lunar Eclipse''.

Music video for this song is Bon Jovi preforming live on the Keep the Faith tour. 1992 and 1993. What a time to be alive huh? I'd kill to be able to see these shows live, but I think the only reason why I wasn't 20 something in the 80's is because God knew I'd be a complete fucking dumbass. 

Side B includes a song ''Save a prayer'' which you know, good song but honestly on this single it's in the way. Side B could include a live version of ''In these arms'' and that would be much better. OR in a perfect world side B would have David Bryan's version of the song. I wish. Hah.

Alright, excuse the typos all the noise and madness in this house is making it hard to focus, so I think I best go investigate if the reason that my cat is  sticky is cleared and also mostly why it feels like this entire house is engulfued in smoke. Lord Jesus help us. 

The boys are back in town.

Anyone else completely losing their minds or is it just me? I feel like I genuinely have no concept of time no more. Is it a Monday? The 1800s? Yesterday? Saturday everyday? Probably. Who the fuck knows? Let's be honest, physically I am here, losing my mind in my house, but mentally somewhere completely different. Possibly reliving a concert or pretending to be at one I didn't attend but know by heart because I've seen videos a million times. There's talks that we wont get to attend concerts till fall next year. NEXT FUCKING YEAR. Pray to god and satan that's not the case, else I have no idea how we'll live.

Sometimes while sitting down and trying to write a blog (really trying right now because everyone is stuck at home and yelling at each other and I can barely hear my thoughts never mind actually writing), I like to check back to my old blog, the private one, to see what I posted on the same days years ago. Seems like in these times it's even more interesting, some days are fun memories and some days are just a reminder how none of us really appreciated what we had. Freedom. 

I checked back to April 2015. A lot was on, but not much different, family arguments, pretty long haired singers, and a specific memory that still today makes me want to cry. At what point do we actually reconsider some things and realise some choices in the past were mistakes? I am starting to think that just because something made you happy…it doesn't mean it was right. 

April 29th 2015. Way before everything went to hell in a hand basket. I wrote a post about anxiety and love, and being there for someone you love. A post completely drenched with pain and love, a feeling so strong I felt it while re reading my own words and all I kept thinking was ''god was I an idiot''. I know this makes no sense to you right now, I just wanted to get it off my chest. I can't really fix or change much now but at least I know I've made some serious mistakes in the past. We all do. But some are…I don't know, heart breaking. And while in quarantine, one has too much time to think.

In that spirit here's a short review of an album, album that is actually one of his favorites. The one who the April 29th 2015 post is about, and a distraction, so I don't think about all the things that hurt, but rather of fond memories.

He and probably Axl Rose as well would kill me if they knew, but I never listened to this album. I have music that's on it on my laptop and on my iPod but I never listened to the actual album. It has been however featured on many of my social media platforms because let's be honest, how effin badass is that cover? Painted by Jim Fitzpatrick, who is an Irish artist maybe best known for his two tone portrait of Che, the one based on the famous photo which Korda took of him. Btw the very painting is now for sale, actually I think he made 10 copies, so super limited edition, for ''only'' about 15 000 euros. Understandable price. Also I'd kill for one of those, they are absolutely beautiful. Gods look at me rambling about painting, focus Nikki, this post is not about this type of art. 

So this album ''Black Rose: A rock legend'' is actually the ninth studio album by Thin Lizzy, it was released in 1979, which holy  shit means it celebrated 40 years last year. Doesn't it feel surreal at times, owning vinyl much older than you are? Album got a great number two on the UK charts as well as went gold also in the UK, not as successful in Europe or USA but I keep saying what do we know about music anyways? 

Reviews were stating that the album ''marks no major departure'' from their original sound. I don't know about that, I see some slight changes, like spices on a dish that make it tastier, but generally, why change what works great? Yes I'm all for musicians evolving and trying new things, but if you find your sound, something that works, something that sounds great, you can be creative within that sound as well.  Actually I think ''Black rose'' was the last real true classic album by Lizzy and definately the most polished and successful album. 

The opening to this album is perfect, it's alive, electrified and explosive. ''Do anything you want to do'' starts with this African style drum beat before slowly progressing into the perfection that is a double guitar attack, followed by a perfect guitar solo. It was recorded in Paris and in the end you can actually hear a distant vocal statement ''Elvis is dead'' and a tiny portion of Blue suede shoes, before the song fades out. Don't ask me what that's about, it's odd no doubt, but being the Elvis fan I am it sure as hell made my ears perk up.

''Toughest street in town'' is next, it's a bit heavier, more typical hard rock song and Moore's solo in this one? Bitching! It's obvious why he was the perfect fit for this band and a total highlight of the entire piece. This piece is about their past, you know, they came from nothing and worked hard to be where they are. This is a piece about the blue collar, hard working, rough world type life that the band came from. It actually reminds me of Springsteen, not because of the sound, god forbid, but the general underdog, working man outlook on life. 

''S & M'' has a Jazzier feel to it, the vocals are not the same as they are through the album, or how we are used to them and the guitars definatelly don't sound the same. But if you look at the song from a different point of view it's far more complex than any other song by Lizzy in the past. And don't even get me started on those dark and brutal lyrics. Jesus christ. 

The first single released from Black rose was ''Waiting for an Alibi'' and it might be my favourite one, guitars sound great, and the lyrics are just pure poetry. The song itself is catchy, which makes it obvious why it was picked for the single which is one of the best known songs to non hardcore fans and it got them on the UK top 10 with a number 9 on the chart. Not bad, of course we all know that usually when someone says Thin Lizzy you automatically think ''The boys are back in town''. Well actually I think ''Whiskey in a jar'' which is such a Metallica song for most people but truth is neither wrote Whiskey in a jar, they both only did covers. Originally Whiskey in a jar is a song about a notorious Irish highwayman Patrick Fleming who was hanged in 1650.

It's actually a fascinating story how this song became a huge hit for both Tallica and Lizzy and also The Dubliners. Let's be honest Fleming was no hero, this is not a Robin Hood type tale. He was a murderer and a robber who spared nobody. What brought him fame was his notorious escape from prison through I believe a chimney. He was caught again and later hanged but through out all of this madness he got this heroic stamp and many poems and tales written about him. Why, I have no idea. But  it gave us one of the best rock anthems. It's believed that the original poem was brought to the States by mass emigration and was originally called either ''The sporting hero'' or ''Whiskey in the bar''.  A version of it also existed in the Civil war, different lyrics and titled ''We'll fight for uncle Sam''.

What happened then was that Phil Lynott gave it a whole new life with their rock version on Lizzy's 1996 album with the same name. The song sky rocketed then, everyone was doing covers of this song and to be honest they still do today, there's countless numbers of youtube singers singing covers of this exact song but nobody really knows, it's a ballad about a murderer from 1650. Fascinating. 

Since I am once again completely off topic…side A closes with a song titled ''Sarah'', softer and much gentler song, feels a little bit out of place but in a welcome way. It's about Lynotts daughter who at the time when this was created was a newborn. It's a beautiful song because his love towards his daughter can be clearly felt while listening to this song. 

''Got to give it up'' and ''Get out of here''. Not very cheerful titles are they? The first one is a bit bluesy in the begining but sure as the sun rising it launches into another rock song with brilliant guitars. Thank all the gods. It's such a waste when bands have great guitarists and don't use their full potential. Hello Van Halen? WHY WHY WHY would you use whatever the hell you call that in the intro of Jump when you got Eddie Van Halen?! I don't get it. Just like I don't get it how damn popular it made them. People are strange I tell you. Right ''Got to give it up'' is the same old struggle most musicians battled with, brutally honest about heroin addiction and the rippling effect it has not just for the addict but everyone around them. On a less serious note, the other day while watching Rocketman (amazing movie btw, my babe Taron did such an amazing job in this role and not even a god damn nomination for an Oscar?!) and Elton being in rehab I was just over here thinking, can you imagine being in rehab circa 89-92? Possibly locked up in one of them rehab centers with the Crue? I know I know, this is serious and thank fuck they all got better but please, for a second, let my fan girl fantasies run wild. Thank you. 

''Get out of here'' is a song I most relate to and not because I'd think it's the best song on the album. It isn't. by far. But the lyrics really speak to me, this part ''I used to be a dreamer but I realized that it's not my style at all. In fact it becomes clearer that a dreamer doesn't stand a chance at all…'' yeah that hits home. 

''With love'' is another great one. First look reminds me of a way people used to write their emails, letters, text messages? Is this still a thing? Or you just write ''xoxo''? I guess I don't know, I'm old fashioned I'd probably write something along the lines of ''eternaly yours'', I guess under a ton of black makeup and dark brooding exterior I am a sucker for romance. Had an argument with the family just the other day, their ''professional opinion'' was that I may look like a 16 yearold kid but  inside I'm a frustrated old woman. This came from my love of vinyl, film photography, vintage clothes, old cars and frankly old men, I blame you Sixx and Rose.  What is with me today, I can't stay on track at all, this song is obviously not about what I just rambled about. It's more about a war going on within you, finding and losing love, as well something we all struggle with at some point in our lives. 

Album closes with ''Róisín Dubh (Black Rose): A Rock Legend''. I believe this song is the song where the band is at their best and it really shows. It a mix of traditional and new and Rolling stone actually called this tune the best Irish rock song of all time. Cough whatcha gonna say about this Bono? Cough. I'm just kidding come on, I love U2. Most days anyways. But one thing is true, this is an epic song, a true masterpiece, that paints a great picture of Irish history, lyrics including names such as Van Morrison, James Joyce and Oscar Wilde. 

But this album is another Inxs story, Moore left the band out of the blue in 1979, the band did three more albums till they broke up in 1983, none were as big and of course to make matters worse Lynott died due to substance abuse. All that combined makes Black Rose the one true last masterpiece. It's sad you know, there's so many amazing musicians gone too fast, and you never get to hear what more they had to give because I am sure it was nothing short of spectacular. 

It's obviously a legendary album and worth keeping in any collection. My copy was my mothers, the savage that likes to write on vinyl covers and destroy inner sleeves. I live with animals I swear. But if nothing else, this proves she used to have a good music taste, I wonder what happened that now I sit in a car with her and listen to David Guetta and Shakira. Please pray for me. 

Okay, I might actually go spin this one for the first time ever, it's not like I have anything better to do these days. Have a great weekend guys, live it up, you know, in the privacy of your homes. Cheers. 

I need perfection, some twisted selection, that tangles me, to keep me alive.

How are we feeling guys? I don't know what day it is. I don't know what week it is. I don't know what planet I'm on…I am legit going crazy. I do live in ''quarantine'' and ''self isolation'' everyday. I don't like people, I tend to avoid them, I don't do ''hanging out'' or parties. But this? This is hell. Not only that the house is ALWAYS full because everyone is at home ALL THE TIME and I'm just like every regular house cat, wondering what the fuck are humans doing in my house every day, but also, people are going completely insane and I am not sure how much more of this madness I can take. The hysteria which I mostly blame media sensatiolation for? Oh my god. Literaly people are acting like rabid animals. I think I'm giving up on walks too because the glares, the sheer rudness. Hell. I was never a people person but after this I'm certain I will completely despise them. 

So in that respect, I decided to lie on my couch today, watching whatever brainless TV show I could find. TV is also hopless these days. It's no longer the news, the music videos, the funny shows, it's just ''good day corona''. Even fucking commercials are based around corona. It's really unbearable. Can you picture me rolling my eyes all the way back into my skull right now? Ugh. So while flipping through channels and watching an episode of Dr. Jeff (a saint that man) I come across the movie Mystify on HBO (thank you HBO I legit cried through the entire thing). I've been  on a hunt to get a DVD (still am despite seeing it) since it came out last year. It's no secret I love INXS, Michael as a person as well. He was something special, different, smart, kinda shy which is an interesting trait for a rockstar, and attractive. Boy, was he good looking. 

Here's the deal despite huge huge success INXS was a very underrated band. They would of deserved much more attention than they got. After KICK things just sorta spiraled. And Michael deserved better. How come the nicest people, the kindest, the purest souls hurt the most? Maybe that's just it, you're too good and too kind so the world just has to crush you. I was actually literally distraught over some of the rumours surrounding his death. Saying it's a crazy sexual game gone wrong, which aparently is proven by the fact that he left no suicide note. I'm sorry but that is literally no proof for me, many people leave no note. Way to downplay what a horrible, leathal disease depression actually is. 

I knew Hutch had his own demons he battled. I know his relationship with his brother and later with Paula and the kids was eating at him, but what I didn't know is that he suffered permanent brain damage after an ''incident''. A man punched him and he hit his head pretty hard on the concrete sidewalk. It seems like this was something he didn't want the public, or even his family to know. I can't help but wonder if it's right that the world knows now…maybe it was his secret to live and die with. But I guess, a brain injury this severe explains depression, explains agression and even the change in behaviour anyone who paid any attention to interviews and live shows can see.  I guess I can't help the heart ache this makes me feel. I can't help wishing someone would and could help him. 

Hutch was a bright light in this fucked up world and to think someone who brings so much happiness to so many people is dealing with his own struggle so severe. God if that doesn't rip out your heart…

Everyone described him as having this charisma and aura, this appeal about him, pure and kind. That he could make you feel like you were the only person on the planet, and could listen, really listen and make you feel heard and understood. 

He was a genius. Period. The lyrics he wrote…I have yet to hear a more heartrending song than ''Never tear us apart''. God it's beautiful. And that music video. It's just him, walking the streets of Prague, but it's just something about it…I don't know. It's perfect. 

Mystify is a good movie because the story is told from people close to him, some by Hutch himself. There's a good deal of home movies, preformance clips, interviews, things I never saw before, so for  a fan it's a must see I'd say. For a non fan or just someone who enjoys the music without extra ''fan baggage'' I'd say it's still an interesting story about how a star that soars that high can fall that low. A thousand times seen story to be honest but heartbreaking never the less.

The moment which made me despise Oasis is featured in this movie. I guess I might explain it now why I tend to turn off the radio when they play Oasis. In 1996 there was an award show. Brit Awards. And by the time I suppose INXS were nowhere near the popularity they had when KICK came out. Shame. They deserved better as I said before, but this is not the point. Out of many presenters Michael was one. He presented the ''best video'' winner, which happened to be Oasis. And out of ALL,  EVERY FUCKING WORD IN ENGLISH FUCKING LANGUAGE, all the people he could thank, all the gratitude to even stand on that stage he could have expressed, major dick Noel Gallagher said ''has beens shouldn't present fucking awards to gonnabes''.  Oh my god you pretentious bastard. A janitor could have given you an award he's no less of a person than you are. Problem is, Michael tried to downplay it, say he doesn't care but it was obvious those words crushed him and really, nobody deserves being treated this way. Not a single soul. My point here is, you never know what demons someone is battling, just because they're smiling it doesn't mean they're happy. And you can never know what kinda damage your filthy mouth can bring, so if you got nothing nice to say, seriously shut the fuck up, this goes double for people in the limelight who have all the power to make a good difference or to crush someone completely. 

Of course after this incidend and the album ''Elegantly wasted'' pretty much failing it was no wonder Michaels depression only got worse. A gentle soul can only take so much hell before they break. 

This documetary took ten years to make and it's obvious why. It's full of love, it's clear it was made with love, by people who loved him. It's bittersweet now, watching the clips of those home videos, from happy times. I suppose all of us can relate, going back to times when we were carefree, happy, life was good and then somewhere along the way we just lost our way. We lost hope. We lost meaning sort of.  In a way we can all relate to the misunderstood music icon, who actually has this persona or a rock god, an icon but underneath it all it was a loving gentle soul that had nothing snooby or celeb like on him. 

Above it all, Hutch had the most amazing voice. I don't think he even realised how talented he was, he felt sort of threathened if you will by giants like U2, but the thing is, Bono may be Bono (respect, another amazing human being) but to me it's actually him who will never reach up to Hutchs talent or charisma. Don't even try to argue with me, this is my personal opinion, I will always pick INXS over U2. And after all it was Bono who was greatly impressed by Hutch, said he was the definition of Rock n Roll. I don't think there's any higher compliment, specially if it comes from someone like Bono. 

Another thing I love about him or the band really, is their passionate protesting against nuclear missile testing. If you pay attention to the ''Mediate'' video you can see a cue card with numbers ''9.8.1945''. They are not random, they refer to august 9th 1945 when an atomic bomb was dropped on Nagasaki.

I was drawn to Hutch for the first time when reading one of my dads old issues of Playboy. Don't even ask, fact is Playboy has really good articles and very tasteful nudes. He had a cheeky interview in it in 1993. And all the questions about what he likes in bed aside there was one question ''what do you find appalling?'' and his reply was;

''The American attitude towards women. The whole way they talk about sex. You know: ''lets get some pussy''. Jesus! Pussy is a great word, whenever you mean your cat, but for a woman…no! Not to speak about a woman's genitals! They can be so stupid. Americans are not real. They fake as it they're emancipated. An American man can sit and listen to a woman as if she's Einstein…but as soon as she turns around he whispers: ''Look at her arse!''. The philosophy of American men is: ''We are prepared to do anything to get a woman into our bed, even pretending to treat her as an equal''.

Hating americans and being a feminist in one reply. Obviously I get heart palpitations. He was one of a kind. They don't make them like him no more. I guess besides loving his persona and music, the topic of what happened to him really hits home for several reasons. Maybe I can't help thinking that each such death could be prevented if people just learned to be nicer, kinder, more compassionate, more humane above all. 

The documentary Mystify ends with Hutch and Andrew Farris sitting behind a piano, playing around with notes that would later become the song Mystify. It's a sort of bittersweet moment, or more a painfull reminder of just what the two were capable of doing together. We all know the band wanted to move forward with new singers but they never came close not to the persona and not to the voice. Something was missing and we all felt it. The ending is fitting, it illustrates the perfect image, what it's after all all about, music. It begins and ends with music.