Living with the Storm, a retrospective in mementos.

Hard to believe now that it’s been three whole years since i first set out from hell to find my place in the world with nothing but a few bags of clothes, some books… and some venison steaks (yeah… really… Venison steaks. Wouldn’t be eating anything like that for the next three years i can tell you). That first day i arrived in Bangor someone came up to me and handed me a little postcard. It was nothing spectacular, but it told of a student radio station, run by students for students. It was the start of something special for me, a love affair that persists to this day. I still have that postcard. It’s a little dull… just white with a red logo depicting a radio tower with circles coming out of it. Run of the mill.

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The Curse of Conformity

The modern world is a cruel and wicked place. You start off naked, screaming and helpless. Right from the off your life is dictated to and controlled. You don’t get to choose what school to go to, what clothes to wear, what to eat, where to go, how to look… you’re expected to conform to someone elses expectations all because of the way you start. Gradually, you get your own choice and freedom. Then finally… when you no longer have to conform to the first, you have to conform to societies’ expectations.

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