#i aim to clear out my inbox over maybe today and tomorrow and start posting again

[axlestuck]

whats your take on a human gcat?

This was a fun request!

[iwroteahing-blog]

Freedom Rises (working title)

So, as some people may know, theres quite a big election going on tomorrow over here in the UK and for those who don’t know me, I am quite passionate when it comes to politics, I think anyone who writes, performs or creates any sort of art has to be. Art is about engaging the world around us and like it or not, that is what politics are. I am not going to go massively into my political believes, not hear at least but it has made me want to share something another bit of writing (Sorry its so long after my first piece, I really knew what I wanted to release and it took ages to dig it out and type it up) The below extract is the start of Chapter 1 of a novel I am/was writing. It has been a passion project I have worked on and off of for the past 6/7 years, writing small pieces here and there. It is planned out as a very political piece, seeking to explore the consequences of both conservative and liberal viewpoints and follows a nameless main character who sees those they love persecuted by one side but also suffer fighting for the other. It is based 8 years in the future (but considering I started this 6 years ago, maybe that will need to be pushed back) with a new election coming up. It takes our world to the extremes of what it is now and asks, how do we fix that? (I hope). For the first time I am also going to add some visual aids to help with the story, I write in a very visual way and I really want to help share that with you, I do not claim ownership over any of the images and will post the sources at the bottom, I would also recommend listening to this while you read https://youtu.be/Y5ktlVlcVvc its just what happened to be on when I typed this up and the hopelessness of it fit. So enjoy: “Cause and effect, for every action there is always an equal and opposite reaction, so, when we… Are you guys writing this down? This is basic stuff…” It is not hard to tell from the vacant expressions they aren’t, 50 faces in the cramped stone room and not a single one looking my way. Most focused on the plain panel door out of the classroom, the rest stared vacantly at the space beneath their desk, like I couldn't tell they where checking their messages. I try a light tap on the desk to wake them up, but its not very effective. Each and every one of them are already planning ahead for the night, looking for the fastest route home. I can’t blame them, today is the 12th of July 2025, voting for the next election is tonight, there is no way they are going to be taking in what I am saying, so I give in. A wave of my hand signals that they can leave “I want that PDF finished by Monday, your answers have to be in my inbox before start of class so we can look at them as a class!” I doubt a single one hears the homework assignment I call out,  they are piling out go my classroom faster than ever, they don’t want to risk being late home tonight. We all know that the police will be putting more security on the voting booths, which means less on the streets. Muggers and and dealers will have free roam, democracy giving way to chaos. The twisted irony of it all would make me laugh if it wasn’t so damn tragic. Its not like you can blame the authorities, if they didn't guard the booths, some meninist cult would show up to intimidate the voters. 


I swipe my hand across the screen at the front of the class and the lesson plan disappears, everything I do is on the school’s cloud anyway, thank god for autosave. It doesn’t take long to collect the Bunsen Burners from the desks and switch the “windows” from a beautiful meadow, back to the cold brick that matches the rest of the classroom, but still I realise that I have started to rush my clean up. Like my kids, I don’t want to be out on the streets late tonight.

Stepping out onto the streets of the city always makes me thankful for my tiny, bricked classroom and the income that comes with it, despite how pathetic they both are. What were once proud streets, brimming with opportunity are now just cramped and wet. Tall towers stretch up for what seems like an eternity, piercing the rain clouds above. The buildings are all made from the same dull brick, with windows few and far between, after all who can afford to maintain such a luxury this far down? The uniformity of the walls makes it easy to spot the camera though, large yellow boxes, placed 2 stories up. Some times you would see one cracked or defaced, but rarely, after all the cameras were one of the few things looked after in this part of town. The worst part though, were the crowds. Where there weren’t people walking stood someone with their hands held out for change, poor souls whose only crime was being born in a time where there were more people than jobs. Every day there feels like there are more people out here, although I never seem to see the same face twice. I try to dispense what few coins I have into a few of the hands that I pass in the crowded street, but I never have enough and the constant push of people carries me down the water logged streets too fast. The woman who teaches the year below me blames anyone she can, the government, the rich or anyone with the tiniest bit of power. I’m just content with thanking god its not me.

I push through the crowds, looking for the taxi rank. As with most evenings, I choose the one a bit further from the school, hoping that I can avoid the long queues that will be inevitable tonight. The crowd has thinned, thankfully, so I am able to make good time on my walk and within a few minutes, I am at the small taxi rank. The rank is in a small alcove a the side of the street, with a metal roof providing shelter from the pouring rain. The shelter is long enough that 4 cars could park alongside it, although it is empty at the moment. Inside the shelter are small screens, each playing a repeating loop of adverts for a new film staring a range of generic, topless men and women doing something on a beach. People are huddled in groups, almost forming an informal cue but no one is talking to each other. As I reach the shelter, An argument breaks out at the front of the cue over who was there first, one man, a short rat faced man, makes some comment about the other’s mother and I watch as they get physical with each other. The second man, who must be twice the height of ratty has the advantage of stature and bulk, slamming meaty hands down at the others face. It is short, messy and leaves red stains across the pavement, and by the end it is clear that the the rat faced man will be waiting for the second taxi. My mother used to tell me that people would look out for each other in this city, but tonight, no one cares if they see another man beaten to a pulp, they just want to get home.

I take a spot under the shelter, beside an elderly couple who had huddled together under the gentleman coat, it looks like they only have the one between them. The rain seems to have slowed now and it has become easier to hear the sound of the city, that strange mix of shouting, sirens and a mishmash of different songs being played somewhere in the distance, Genevi always calls it the sounds of humanity, usually I just call it noise. She is probably back home by now, her gallery is much closer to the flat than the school, I just hope she's remembered pick up food, everywhere will be closed by the time I get back, its not like there is a polling booth in our neighbourhood, too unsafe they were told. Suddenly, something catches my hearing. The screens in the taxi rank are no longer showing the loop of adverts, now the screens have switched to the final party debate, aiming to swing any voters heading to the polls and to make us all feel “included” in the process. Usually they just bore me to death, no matter how hard the news reader tries to build it up. This time is different though because the guy on screen is a rockstar. 
 Sebastian Shaw, a name that must have been invented by committee, is the leader of a brand new political party. the Great British Freedom Party, or GBFP for short. Traditionally a small party like the GBFP would be completely forgettable, but Sebastian Shaw was determined to sell voters a dream. They promised to be tough on crime and bullish on a global scale, claimed they wanted to build the empire back up. Their opposition always argues with facts and figures but it always felt a little bit weak coming from the mouths of stuffy politicians. Shaw was young, attractive and charismatic, you wanted to believe him when he talked and people wanted to listen. Shaw the unemployed that he would magic up jobs from nowhere, he told the poor about the riches he could give them, how could people argue with that? Even if it would all fall apart in the end, it made for good television. The others along the taxi rank had stopped what they were doing and were all looking at the screens, everyone wanted to hear what Shaw was going to say, even Ratty with good running down his face. Pic1:http://www.genealogyintime.com/GenealogyResources/Wallpaper/Brick-Wall-Images/brick-wall-images-page01.html Pic2:http://bestanimations.com Pic3: Tumblr, can't find the source, if you see this and its yours let me know and i’ll credit you!