ben brooks lives here: guest post: sarah sahim (hallo human persan)

I have made this youtube playlist for you, please enjoy it and listen to it whilst reading this pointless post.

As a ‘yoof’ of today, I feel like I am losing touch with the world around me, I am already starting to feel too old for my time, not only in my mind is this reflected but I already have two fucking white hairs and Steve Buscemi's eyes if they were bigger and brown.

The cognitive repercussion of my physical ‘attributes’ is that I am ready to retire in Ireland, on my own, with a banjo, growing potatoes, getting drunk and manifesting my intoxicated, belligerent, misanthropic teenage self and this will be due to the fact that I have yet to achieve what I want despite being a 'tender yoof'.

I do not feel tender anymore, I feel like mutton.

it appears (according to some of the more yoof-slotted/savvy/whatever friends of mine) that everything that I point out as ironic is in fact, not ironic. For example, my Dad saw this driving school called ‘DIVA WHEELZ’ and I was cracking up with laughter, that’s ironic, right? The old biddy running it thought it was a fuckin’ brilltoast name in fact it’s cheesier than… an upper-middle class cheese board.

Apparently, I also see things ‘too differently’, another example of this ‘cryptic’ observational attitude of mine was my reaction to this dude I met and I think he’s called Carl but he just looks like a Carl and I don’t really know his name although he told me so let’s call him Carl, he has this crappy old Nokia phone that has a faux-gold plated rim and it’s so rad! I see it as a statement about society and all our flashy shit (and bling bling) and how we don’t need it to get shit done, as long as you have a sense of humour (as indicated by the flashiness of the rim) but apparently he doesn’t own the phone for that reason. It makes me sad that our generation don’t appreciate little, stupid perks of our meaningless lives and instead it takes a generic, idiotic, slapstick, whiney American multi-camera sitcom to make them flail all over facebook due to its cancellation after running for too many goddamn years (you got the fucking hint yet?)

Is it normal for a gal not to care about topshop and sluts r us?

Why does everyone fucking call each other a ‘ledge’? Is that meant to be representative of the meaning of Bill Withers’ ‘Lean on Me’?

I do not want to wear my g-ma’s best friend’s clothes for a hefty price because she is dead.

I don’t want to pretend to like Arctic Monkeys, attend their gigs, take photos on Instagram on my piePhone and post it to twitter and facebook for the INDIE CREDZZ because they are shit.

What the fuck is up with :3? It’s a ballsack with eyes, WHAT EMOTION IS THIS SUPPOSED TO CONVEY?

I wouldn’t be caught dead in a club because I can’t stand the sight of yoofs dancing to cuntish tripe.

I don’t want to take a ‘seductive’ photo of myself, post it to facebook and say “hoe em ghee, I’m so ugly L” and get 987 likes and a bunch of equally attention-seeking females telling me I’m “gorge bb”.

I don’t want to dance around like a slut in crystalised underwear and I don’t want to invest in the ‘dying’ cotton industry b/c a faux-twee shit tells me too.

I mean, I just want to listen to The Mats, Deer Tick, Cass McCombs and Dirty Projectors all day, everyday. I want to write for some dry, brilliantly underrated single-camera sitcom that will be cancelled after one season and then carry on with my unemployment watching more television and listening to more great music. I also want to make awesome, fuzzy mixtapes for everyone else like me and laugh at how the world doesn’t ‘get’ us.

I just want to live in a time where pretentiousness isn’t necessary, especially for a female to get by in life.