The Value of Time

The true problem of capitalism is the assumption that things have value. What this value is can be assigned in different ways. A chest of drawers has a lesser value than this laptop I am writing on due to the intricacy and detail of the value of prescribed processes it takes to make a certain object.

What astounds me is that the value assigned to people is different. Take footballers for example, who can be valued from nothing to hundreds of millions, purely because they can kick a ball around or be physically fitter than the next best person.


It’s incredible that people and objects are valued at different standpoints. If you take a car for example, it is less than the sum of its whole; the sum of all its parts is less than the complete picture; the sum of the man hours taken to paint the Mona Lisa in perfection is less than the whole; the sum of the football team is probably more than the value of the entire club.

In a more detailed aspect of the car, each part has a value. The more intricate and detailed the part, or the more knowledge in its makeup, the higher the value of the part. So each car is made up of varying degrees of similar parts, so why is one car a different value from another car? It’s badge. The types of materials it’s made from etc. It’s ridiculous. Capitalism at its finest depletes the working force of their power purely because the more expensive, expansive and knowledgeable the workforce, the higher the profit a car can be sold for, therefore the higher the loss in value the workers receive as they are paid disproportionately from brand to brand.

What matters more is the value of time. Each part takes a differing amount of time to make. The more intricate and knowledgeable the makeup of the part, the more the value of the part. Wrong. The time taken to make a part dictates the value of the part, combined with the above. A catalytic converter costs more to make because of the prescribed value of platinum within its make up than say, an odometer.

The constitution of the value of time is ingrained within every aspect of a workers life. Effectively, an hourly paid worker can be paid more than a salary paid worker if they spend more time working. Time is paid differently via different jobs/job roles/expertise. The average CEO will work less hours than the immediately below board members, but earn more.

So I pitch you this. How valuable is YOUR time? Take a minute, breath and look around at the incredibly intricate, complex makeup of the earth, that was given to you for free. You were born for free and will certainly die for free, so how much of your time on this earth is for free. It takes a few minutes to influence a person for the positive, so why not try and talk to someone you don’t know and make them feel more positive about life for free, every single day. If not, then no loss. The only negative is that every single one of us falls foul to a system that values our time on this earth above everything else.

Our time on this earth, this earth, this nature, this universe and its complexities was bestowed on each of us for free, so let’s observe it at the same cost. You are worth more than your job. So live small, and as freely as you can. You can be free of this system if you want if you just look around.

Your time on this earth is limited but it’s for free, so see as much of it as you can. Try and influence people for the better if you can. It’s all we have as people. Observe nature and climate in its purest form and seek nothing better. Jobs mean nothing; they prey upon our time on this earth and assign values to it as if they are worth nothing more than currency.

Wealth is not a form of value; experience and time is. Spend your time wisely, it is a currency that is limited and finite. Once it is gone, it is gone. It cannot be made up. Be wise and frugal with your spending, but above all, give some away, lend it to people as much as you can. Time will give back to you. Live small and spend as little as you can on yourself.

But mostly, spend time with, and on, people and experiences you know will matter. Time is a currency, the only currency, you will ever need.


World Mental Health Day

Happy world mental health day
I hope you had a good day. This years mental health day emphasis is on mental health at work. 
It is an important area of consideration for both employer and employee. I’m grateful to my place of work holding a mental health awareness session today.

It’s something that will likely effect us in our lives. The brain, like any other organ, is susceptible to abnormalities. As a lung can get infected, or a liver diseased, the brain has its own tribulations that manifest in many forms. Many of those forms is a whole conglomerate of mental health issues.

Bringing your mental health to work is something that appears daunting, but something so incredibly important for employers to encourage. Now we have a culture of people willing to speak, employers must be willing to listen. If we are more able to talk about our mental health at work, there must be an onus on a dedicated group of people willing listen.

Today I encourage you to talk to whoever you like at your work place about anything on your mind, both mental health and otherwise. It’s truly incredibly in this country, in this epoch, many of us feel unable to express our thoughts. Employers can encourage this be being able and willing to listen. 

In order to ease the burden of mental health in ones mind, one must not feel guilty in sharing their thoughts. It’s a delicate ying yang balance; one should live neither a wholly good, nor wholly bad life. There is no shame in sharing how you feel, especially if it is within a guilt free environment. If we listened, anonymously and judgement free, the social health of our society would be much better than it is now.

On a more personal level, it makes it easier love with yourself if you can shake the shackles of guilt away when you talk about yourself. It’s not a feeling that’s rational but a feeling that comes with the life of a depressive mind. 

This is not to say I would live without it however. In a rather strange manner, depression and other mental health issues have forged, good, bad or otherwise, who I really am. This element of me, the depressive, self absorbed worrier who thinks about the complete and utter death and destruction of life, has its upsides. 

On the good days I can notice the beauty and happiness in pretty much anything. I can look for the good if I know the bad. The smile of a homeless person, the joy of a child in the most simplistic of actions, the mad running of a dog in a field after a ball, the unquestionable, unfathomable beauty of a commuter. Beauty can be found everywhere, and I wholly testify my mind has become more attune to this beauty in the beautiful sadness that comes being me. Jacques Lacan had a word for something like this; ‘jouissance’. It loosely means enjoyment from French, but is truly lost in translation. 

Sometimes I am in love with my life, and sometimes I do not want to be alive. This Jungian duality is what makes me, and at work or otherwise, that’s just who I am.
All of what I’ve spoken about can be found in this blog. What better a way to describe different situations from my point of view than a blog about anxious pigeons? Seriously though, this blog is unreal, tongue in cheek but incredibly sincere and even informative. Check this blog out, it makes all my words seem so unnecessary when a talented illustrator can sum it up in 4 or less pictures. Check her blog here and please like the page and spread the pigeon love.

If you ever feel like you need help, just talk about it with; 

999; 111; Samaritans; Night line; family; friends; your work. 

You’ll be fine

The girl on the train

A very short story

She sat opposite me vacant with meticulously structured cheekbones that reflected and refracted light so subtle so fragile off her ebony skin that so wonderfully stuck out in a sea of ordinary white faces i thought she cant be real as she stared expressionless in a trance so morose so azure i was sure she was crying yes she was leaning back in her seat amongst the normality of the tube train a declaration of sadness rolled slowly oh so slowly down a cheek so metallically reinforced by a structure of bones ever so fine carved from serpentine i thought do they know that she is crying no one looked nobody paid attention does she know she is crying this cant be real not on the tube but she grew sadder and withered into her broad but slight frame in a perfect black dress she sank ever so glum are these tears real why is she here who is she i mean who is she really

the morning isnt a time for crying

Sleep 2.0

Another dream I had

This is another dream I had, that was kinda mad fucked up. Here it is:

I was sent to test a crane in a fish tank where the workers and professional staff around me were monitoring my progress.

My consciousness permeated every life I had so I knew If i kept killing myself in every one only to wake up once again.

I kept killing myself in painless bizarre ways and shoving pencils through my throat and i could feel myself choking on the the non existent pain and gurgling on robot blood until I lapsed only to gain consciousness in the same life somewhere else as a robot sent for testing.

It appeared I was the only one aware of the consciousness until the group I was working with kept talking behind my back about me.

It appeared they knew and were just monitoring how my consciousness kept handling these deaths only for my consciousness to be kind of put into a different body and re animated with the same thoughts aware of a life I had before.

I was a simulated consciousness, a self aware AI that scientists had created that had kept deciding the best cause of action each time was to keep killing myself for what seemed like no reason what so ever.

I climbed one of the cranes to the top and tried to make it out of the tank in order to experience the world but all became clear: I was in no tank, just aware of my own consciousness to the point I could reanimate at a different point along my own timeline in some sort of infinite loop experiencing no physical pain.


I want to release some

So this has been bubbling away in the back of my brain for a while now. I have always wanted to release music, and maybe soon I will. Song ideas and guitar parts come up weekly and I keep them noted in my journal.

It’s incredibly cathartic and therapeutic and the feeling you get when you conjure a new riff or line is second to none. So yeah, I want to give something back to you.

I have a couple of ideas. I want to do a cover of ‘But Breathing’ by Defeater; which by the way is a wonderful song which you all should listen too. Maybe a covers EP and one of my own stuff, just to keep it interesting. My pal Alex and I have been working on Ukulele mashups of songs and we reckon we can fit 50 into about 3 minutes, so that’ll be interesting.

But the problem is I only sing to myself, and I am far too shy and unconfident to let you hear my voice just yet, so there is that. Also, I don’t even think I can sing all that well, so sorry in advanced. It’ll be shite.

I am a huge believer in the greatness of the local music scene and releasing, independently, your own music if you feel like you should. My pal Jon is in a band with his uni folks, and you should check them out. I’ll chuck a link for their dropbox at the end of this post.

Also, if anyone wants to contribute/work with me/has any ideas feel free to contact me and we can get something together. I’ll be on the hunt for recording places, and seeing as I don’t have anything other than a phone to record on, I’ll be hitting up any local studios for a little session.

Stay well, thanks for reading x


It’s mad fucked up

I had this brief thought whilst sitting outside the doors to the first class carriage on the way to work this morning. Some guy gets on the train and sits in first class without a ticket. He goes to the guard who tells him to sit down he’ll be round in a bit.

Would the same happen if I got on this train and sat where I am now? 

Each one of those sitting in first class doesn’t work any more or less hard than anyone else (at least not my dad for comparison, who is an incredibly skilled landscape Gardner and current single parent to two), yet I guarantee they wouldn’t let us sit in first class with them. They definitely would not buy someone’s second or first class ticket for them in order to sit with them in first class, in a comfortable seat with a good amount of leg room.

It seems like this door is metaphorical of the glass ceiling that separates many of us from the higher echelons of society. I’d go as far as to say half of it is entitlement, the other half greed. 

Ethnic cleansing 

A legacy

Just a quick one this. But something that has enraged me recently. Myanmar is currently in the midst of the genocide and eradication from their borders and otherwise of the Rohingya Muslim people. The UN is recognising this as ethnic cleansing but has not devised a plan to stop this, and stents pressuring Myanmars leader who, in her silence, is as bad as those carrying out the cleansing actions. In her acts of nothingness, thousands are facing death each day.

The holocaust of world war 2 was an ethnic cleanse of millions of innocent jews. These shocking actions still happen today. 70 years later, thousands are being killed each day or displaced and forced out of areas purely because of either chance in birth, or choice in religion. This has to stop. 

We shouldn’t live in a world like this. We can’t live in a world like this. We can’t sit by and do nothing because it doesn’t effect us. We are one people, we are equal. 

It’s not a case of domestic politics, it’s a case of immediate action.