IM BACK (probably)

holy shit its been a while

Basically i had a crazy ass summer and may or may not have bothered to write anything here because i’ma  lazy shit, so here’s the last 3 odd months in fast forward.

I broke up with my Girl Friend and got a lot of shit for it

I went to turkey, and jumped off a mountain because it was amazing

more things happened that are pretty insignificant 

apart from Thorpe park, which is always amazing

then i went back to school, drowned in work then got saved by the most amazing girl I have ever met (that’s all you’re getting on that, I have a new girlfriend, she is amazing, that is all you need to concern yourself with)

several metal / pop punk gigs happened and i got hit in the face a lot, then broke through the floor of a venue. because metal.

and that brings us roughly up to now, when i finally updated my blog with more nonsense that no body reads.
expect more horror stories (but not terrible this time) and even less proof reading.

love as always

the magical pastie x


untitled #1

As you may have guessed from the title, this horror short dos not yet have a title, but feel free to make suggestions, its a sort of half continuation of nightmares in that it shares the same sort of themes, but that’s about it. I have decided with this one to go for a more fast-paced type thing looking at our generalized fear as humans or lack of control over the world, and how people seem to react when they lose control of their internal as well as external view of the world. So, here we go again, enjoy


You know, it seemed like things were going well with my life, it really did. I had a decent relationship with my parents and brother, and this spectacular girl at work and I had gotten rather close in the last couple of weeks, I was as on top of the world as a lower – middle class 18 year old could be. Externally that’s all people saw of me, they didn’t notice the slight ticks every now and then, the swaying as my vision would begin not just to darken,  but sway and pulsate with strange colors. Or if they did, they were too polite to mention it to me.

Things were different when I was alone; I would let myself go and allow the darkness to surge forward from the back of my skull and begin to fill me up, i had nothing else to do, keeping it down was like trying to hold on to an electric fence. Sometimes the ‘episodes’, as I would later hear them referred to, were not particularly severe, i would just lie on my bed or the floor for a couple of minutes with a feint sense of falling. Te shadows in my head would sometimes even give me some time off from their tampering with my perception, weather there was a reason for this other than to simply build up their strength again for the next big hit I will never know, I just appreciated these days for what they were worth, and allowed myself to try and appear as a normal teenager, because i knew what was coming next would be almost the complete opposite.

After these days off it would be  much harder to control the shadows, as if they had upped their voltage. I would have to make yet another bullshit excuse to take the day of college whilst my parents both went off to work, and allow the insane carnival of madness to carry me away from my own body and bounce me around the inside of my skull.  Sometimes I would come up again an find myself sat on the tiled kitchen floor surrounded by candle wax melted into strange formations around me, like those crop circles people used to find in the 80’s. Sometimes it was blood on the floor. I would never remember anything I did whilst under, but the collection of ruler straight scars building into a dense lattice on my chest and stomach would usually have some fresh new additions, never deep but just nasty enough to leave feint pink lines trailing through the flesh. And this was just the start of something. Something much worse than anything from this universe could ever inflict on another living creature.

It was  a pretty normal day for me when the major event happened; I was going about my day when the darkness surged forwards with a strength i had never before experienced, I had no choice but to let it take control and fill my mind with ink. But this time was different. This time the thick blackness slammed into the backs off my eyes and just kept going, propelling my thoughts up and into another place beyond anything imaginable on a wave of pure dark, drawing shadows towards it as it surged forward and gaining yet more strength. I felt like there was no possible way that i could pull this back, my body would just be stuck there on the floor, alive but with no life. I would be taken to hospital where they would plug all sorts of leads into me and pump me full of chemicals i an attempt to bring me back. And I hate needles.

Fueled by this new pulse of fear I sort of jumped myself forwards and span round to face the darkness pushing me forwards, my head full of bold ideas for how to beat it back down into my subconscious or better yet, clean out of my head, but even then that seemed unlikely, and that’s before i saw what i was facing. The night sky, the parts between the stars, seems to be the most perfect darkness you could think of, but this smear was far worse. It didn’t just not reflect light, but seemed to collect it, I could feel it still drawing on the light from where my body lay and nullifying it, filling this void with its tendrils and polluting everything behind it. Looking down on this monstrosity I realized i had no hope of taming it, there was no way I could possibly stop it from finally taking me over completely. I took a weak swing for one of the arms which seemed small and it simply batted me away, into the swing of another, much larger one. This was when my life on earth ended, i was swept down and into the heart of this beast and felt myself falling through the universe itself. This is what death felt like, surely? But no, I slammed to a sudden stop on a large concave surface, it was like lying in the middle of a radar dish, but far more slippery  and there was a thin film of watery slime that clung to me then fell off in large, splashy globs.

I looked up and saw something that pumped ice through my heart. There was a huge pink mass suspended above me, behind a large glass dome that covered me. It flickered slightly and waves of tiny sparks occasionally traversed its wrinkled veined surface. It was clear after a second that this huge object was a brain. But, though a terrifying thought to begin with being trapped in ones own head, what i noticed above it was what really terrified me. The shadows had spread out and filled the space around the brain with their cloying grip, and they were beginning to force their way down, into the core of the system that  functions as the main control center of the brain.

A wave of darkness washed over me and i was knocked onto my front, face down in the gelatinous mess i was standing on. A thin sliver of light sliced through the space below me and it looked as if two shades were dragging their way open, revealing more and more of the life i used to live.

The shadow opened its eyes for the first time standing with a carving knife grasped in this rudimentary creatures fist. It took its first steps forward and left the house to find its companions.


hey hey


just though i would update you guys quickly as to why i am being pretty crappy with my sort of every sunday pattern, its basically because I have my As levels, but fear not!

i have half term next week and some pretty awesome horror ideas to run through you guys and see how you react 🙂

love from a distance as always

the magical pastie. x

steampunk is slowly consuming all my free time

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Hello readers of this wonderfully interesting blog


S basically rather than revising for my a levels, which i am currently in the middle of, i have spent my time with a friend of mine designing and preparing to build all manner of crazy steampunk things over summer. These will be,m as her pictures hopefully show, pretty damn amazing and i owe a lot to her for doing those for me, but more on that later. First of all i’m gonna assume that, like most of my friends you guys don’t really know what steampunk is, so I’ll give you a quick and simple whirlwind tour of the ideas behind steampunk, at least from my perspective anyway.


From what I have made of it, steampunk is a design style which essentially revolves around the idea of a parallel reality in which, during the Victorian era, rather than building the internal combustion engine and heavier than air flight, we had continued to work on improving steam power and airship designs, meaning we ended up in practically the same place, except everything is steam and clockwork powered rather than petrol powered, meaning it looks so much more amazing, usually involving gears, random pipes and tubes and a hell of a lot of brass and copper. If you just Google image search for steampunk anything someone has probably done it, and it probably looks amazing.

So back to those pictures at the beginning of the post; they are essentially the designs i came up with, then sent to a friend of mine to do the artistic designs for me we essentially work as an awesome duo with me coming up with ideas for stuff to make and technical drawings which i wont show, because they suck, then i send them to her and she makes them look oh so pretty and impressive  We have sourced all the things we need at the moment apart from really tiny brass or copper bars for the finger apparatus (we need maybe 3 – 5 mm copper bar, and a few lengths of copper tubing with a 4 – 6 mm interior diameter, if anyone has any ideas where to get that from) but then we will assemble it over summer and it will be awesome.

The current plan is to attain some goggles as well then attend minami in Southampton next year with a few buddies of mine, so anyone else coming along drop me a line and we can meet up and bee all steampunky together and it shall be awesome.


Love as always from the arch mechanic

The magical pastie -x-


so this blog now has a purpose

so yea, as some of you may recall, I wrote, or rather made an attempt at writing a horror short. I was expecting this to go the way of other posts and fall on dead ears, but it actually had a bit of a response, with someone actually re blogging it (crazy, i know).

SO here’s the plan. on the first Sunday of every month i will try damn hard to provide a new horror story for you guys, if all of those go well i will start up a separate blog for them so it’s easier to read them all in one place without teenage angst getting in between. Most of these stries will be based on matters of the mind and madness, especially mental conditions and the loss of self control  but i will pretty much be writing whatever scary things i can think of and seeing what gets the best responses from you guys.

Thanks again for giving me the push to actually do this for you, I’ve been considering writing for a while now and this has really encouraged me to actually get some of my work out there for people to read rather than immediately deleting it. so thanks for that 🙂

that shall be all this time


the magical pastie x


Please excuse the probably inexcusable mistakes in the grammar of this, but i’m writing this more to get these things out of my head and on to the computer, so that maybe, MAYBE they leave me alone and let me sleep. 99% of this is based on my experiences pretty much every time i try and sleep these days, bear that in mind. They don’t like me telling you about how they work, i can feel them watching, but i’m going to take that as a sign that it will help me somehow… so here goes.


It starts off pretty much the same way every night, i go to sleep at a reasonable hour for any teenager after a suitable fill of the internet, adventure time and psychological literature, with the red light of my clock flooding the room with a quasi light, allowing me to discern shapes and outlines, but no details. That’s where the relative normalness ends. I usually ‘wake up’ again after what feels like seconds, but i can’t really tell, i look at the clock but it just seems to be displaying lights, no actual numbers that i can gain some form of bearing from, just staring over the room like a dead eye. Not only that but my matress feels like it has been filled with wet cement, I can move, but only just and it takes a great deal of effort. Even i know what is about to happen i wear myself out simply from trying to get out from underneath this gelatinous weight pressing down on my whole body. I start to panic, it feels like some sort of horrific reverse ketamine trip, rather than being out of my body, but able to control myself, I can simply watch from behind my own eyes as I struggle uselessly,, then i begin to look around the room.

They don’t like me  doing this… it’s scaring them for some reason, i can’t see them, but i can feel them, scraping and clawing at my neck, whispering in my ear.

The shadows in my room are usually abstract and indiscernible, like all shadow, but when i am in this state they just feel wrong for some reason, they seem too abstract, too unshapely. then i realize they are moving. Not fast to begin with, but just enough to be noticeable, changing shape slightly, seeming to be trying to break out of whatever is constraining them, i assume light levels or something but I’ve never thought about it too hard. Then one ‘breaks free’

they’re inside my head, tugging at my body from the inside, i don’t feel in control of myself any more but i know i have to keep fighting. for my own good. Its gone too far now to ever think about ending this. Unless I end everything. End my existence. And take the shadows with me.

Its small, like from a lamp or something on my desk, but it scuds across the wall to a large clean patch and just hangs there, undulating. Not just laterally anymore, but pushing in and out of the wall. Warping plaster and paint, and other shadows are being drawn towards it, like the dead heartbeat of a scepter. well, i say like. Others also begin to break free. Small still at this point. They form three, sometimes four or even five more of these hearts. They beat out of time for a while, before stopping and restarting in synchronization with each other, and twice as powerfully. Reaching out to me and cracking the paint as they push through from some other place.

That sounds like the best option at the moment. But they still wont let me. my clothes are the things filled with cement now. I can hardly move anymore., I am afraid to turn for fear of what is behind me, crawling over my skin. Breathing down my neck. I can’t reach a knife, or rope, and the window to jump from is completely out of the question. oh god i can’t move. I can’t move. no. I have to keep going.

the hearts are like little planets now. The pulsating permeates through the walls and i begin to see larger objects dragging at their restraints. breaking out and engulfing one of the cores, expanding it and giving it a more meaningful shape. After just a few seconds I realize what shapes they are creating. And I can do nothing to stop them. As more and more shadows drag across the wall, chipping paint and flaking plaster as they go, joining with the others it becomes clear that they are not just shadows anymore, but parts of a collection of wholes. They shape up as (usually) three black, human-esque figures, but only loosely. They have a distinguished top and bottom, a head and presumably something that could be called feel, but it looks more like the bottom hem of some sort of cloak.

I can hardly control them anymore. They are inside my whole being now,  not just my body but my mind. Images distort and memories shatter as i try and cling on to whatever is keeping me here. Keeping them from truly taking me to the other place.

Those are the only features i can work out at this point, everything between is simply a mass of darkness. Not a shadow anymore, but something else entirely. Shadows still have some sort of radiance to them. They are really a dark shade of grey. But not these shadows. They are not simply the absence of light, but the absence of any sort of substance at all, they seem to trap any passing light and hold it behind them. They have gone beyond darkness now to something much, much worse. Something i can’t understand, let alone describe through simple words. And still they are pulsating. Pressing. forcing the facade holding them back crumbles to dust, not in a dramatic manner, but completely silently. It seems as if these things can control anything, be anything, do anything they feel needs doing. They begin to walk towards me in long, stalking strides, covering the best part of two meters with every…

they don’t like me describing them, but it seems to be doing them harm somehow, their grip around me is loosening  the inky tendrils still stretch deep into my psyche, but their ends are beginning to fray, to release their grip. I think I may be OK soon if i can just. Keep. Going.

…step they take, until they have surrounded my bed. A solid wall of impenetrable darkness descends over my body as they lean in. I still don’t know what they are intending to do with me, but i know that death would be a true release from this terror. This unknowing horror of what is to come, but i find out soon enough. They lean closer and closer, at impossible angles now. But these creatures don’t function by our laws. They keep coming until they seem to be laying on the air just above me, all of them separate  yet somehow all in the same place, parallel with my body and directly above me. And they begin to descend.

they are LEAVING. their grip is relenting. slowly. but they are giving me back my life. the tiny kernel in the darkness that was me is growing again. Filling my body, and my mind again.

They enter my body and i can feel my life draining from me from the inside out, i feel this bed shall become my deathbed, but the feeling of hollowness only spreads until it is just under my skin. It never breaks the surface. I am no longer my own person any more, merely a consciousness trapped in the glass domes of these eyes. I can only watch as I lose control of myself entirely.

I had no hope. They have been within me since the first night. They permeate my existence and drive my mind round and round and round until i can no longer keep track of anything any more. I am forced to submit my life to this non existence  watching as they consume me, and my soul decays within an empty vessel. empty save for the darkness.

kites, grass stains, adrenaline and Stravinsky… 4 things which are better than revision.

to be truly honest i could have kept that list going on for as long as i wanted, for ever and ever until time itself died… but i thought i would focus on this weekend to show you what lengths the creative procrastinator will reach in the ultimate goal of not doing stuff. There are some also pretty hilarious stories spawning from the shenannigans of this weekend also. So, lets crackalack

the other week i spontaneously splurged £120 on a giant, 5sqm kite made by some sketchy company in china, and said kite arrived (finally) the other day, so of course the first thing i did was call up an assistant and go fly it… thank go I did. I am used to flying tiny little 2 m dual line kites, and the power coming from those is pretty pathetic at best, so i saw the trees swaying gently in the breeze and was all like ‘paaaaah this is fine’ about half an hour later i got the kite into the air, then promptly found myself skidding across the field at a rate of knots directly at a hedgerow, then i took off, pulled a spectacular superman style leap and promptly landed on my face. This whole time i was whooping with glee and laughing my head off, just after i came to a halt i noticed just how close to doing myself a serious injury i actually was. We looked at my tracks after and discovered i had covered about 150 meters sliding on my feet, and and extra 10 odd meters whilst airborne, again to reiterate right at a big ass fucking hedge. This is what i now do for fun pretty much every evening, because i haven’t yet found something which gives me the same adrenaline rush as being pulled around a field by an over sized version of a child’s toy…

Following this i decided that, being a wonderful boyfriend and all, That I should go and watch my girlfriend, who is the principal flute  in the Hampshire county youth orchestra (band camp jokes got old years ago). What i wasnt told were two things: Firstly, that there was going to be interpretive dance involving flailing, rolling and shoes… and secondly that i would be served at the bar which frankly is the only reason I could stand the whole ordeal, i mean its fine if you want to take up dance, or theater as one of your hobbies… but i find interpretive dance is in the awkward middle ground where you are trying to convey a theatrical message through the medium of dance, and it’s a bit like trying to sing a piece of modern art… it just doesn’t really work and you end up looking a bit silly. and yes, i am aware that i am saying this after trying to convey the subtle joys of power kiting to the masses…


i have started having terrifying night terrors which i have decided to turn into creepy stories… because i’m totally normal like that and totally not crazy in any way, so if i start posing at like 2 AM its because THEY WONT LET ME SLEEP (ooooh creepy teaser)

Ciao for now… hey that rhymes 😀


The magical pastie x


yes, i would love to revise, but first i want to be the very best… the best there ever was


so basically my a levels are now completely doomed since i decided to kill some time and avoid revision by tidying one of my old cupboards. In which i found my old game boy advance sp. This thing was practically my only source of entertainment for most of my childhood, and the best part, I still had my old Pokemon games saved, i loaded up leaf green and found myself in the old power station en route to catching zapdos with a level 68 mewtwo in my party. I have never been more proud of young me. Ever. and that’s the reason i will now fail my a levels: when i feel like being a god of all things Pokemon i can play leaf green, but if i want to truly re live my childhood i started my journey of rediscovery by restarting my game on sapphire, Nostalgia is the best thing.

On a slightly more depressing note, my parents are now home and my life has become almost completely unbearable; dad jumps down my throat about everything and mum is convinced that i hate her, i now don’t want to leave my room for fear of being shouted at by dad or guilt-tripped by mum for not arranging some sofa cushions properly, I can’t revise properly because i’m too busy trying to deal with all the tiny things i have done wrong around the house. I can’t sleep any more because I just worry about everything and on top of all of this a whole number of other shitty personal things happened over Easter which i shan’t go in to. I dont know how much more of this i can take, just leaving and getting the train somewhere else is getting to seem like a more and more enticing option just to get away from my parents.

So that’s what i did over my Easter holidays

the magical pastie xx

two weeks alone, one month until a levels, zero hours of revisison.

ahoyhoy internet peoples

so yea, as you may know already, in England anyone over the age of about 15 mortally fears the dates between about the first of April and the end of June, this is not due to some sort of horrific ceremony of permanently attaching a top hat to their heads, and replacing their blood with tea (that happens on your 18th birthday) but because of the horror that is exams (dun dun DUUUUUUUN). Basically rather than using exams to check if we have learned stuff like they are supposed to be used, these two hour long data vomiting sessions now decide the outcome of your entire life, and frankly its a bit silly.

basically universities say that in order to study a certain course with them then you need a set of three letters (most of the time not related to anything) that determine how well you can brutally force information in to your brain, fueled by only coffee and dubstep at 3AM in the morning, before regurgitating that knowledge back on to some paper, kind of like filling a balloon  with really chunky pasta sauce, then letting go of the neck and aiming it at a canvas, hoping that the result looks a bit like the mona lisa. At A – level… level… we have to learn 4 subjects to a pretty high level in order to do well in these exams and get the necessary grades to go study one thing at uni, Universities sometimes (and usually incorrectly) separate these subjects in to ‘soft’ (art, DT, interpretive dance, underwater basket weaving) and ‘hard’ subjects (science and maths (but not psychology, because:


but anyway, apart from that it doesn’t really matter what subjects you choose, so long as they are ‘hard’, to the extent that university entry requirements have begun to sound like badly scripted porn, always asking for harder and harder subjects. But studies have shown that all these exams don’t actually mean we remember things better, someone could get 100% in an exam, then a month later, or in my case 30 seconds after finishing, not remember a thing about the subject. I got a solid A in history, and yet now i can barely recall anything that we learned, that data space in my brain has been filled with song lyrics, internal rants and movie quotes. So why don’t we go all Finnish on the education system, with only one exam when students are 16, apart from the occasional topic test, and then train people for specific jobs once they apply. For proof that it works just look at how happy the Fins are…

and the answer, as with most things British  is that it’s tradition to drill information into our skulls so we can robotically repeat it on the whim of any teacher who dares question our knowledge of Pittite economic policy (Google it, its fascinating…). Its the same with most of our crazy traditions that don’t really make sense (queuing, ridiculous language rules, the school house system… even in non boarding schools, bear baiting, degrading the lower classes and casual racism towards anyone [or thing] who ‘looks a bit foreign’) we are so scared to grow up and accept that breaking some traditions may actually be a good thing (shock and awe ensue) we, as people, have learned that change is bad. I think that this is because we assume we are too weak  minded to actually adapt ourselves to this break from normality if it ever happens, despite how ridiculous we look (i mean think how stupid the segregationists in australia look these days, then go look at a picture of an anti gar parade, notice any similarities)  we assume that we wont be able to keep up with change and so we resist it.

so to summarize, that was a really long rant about how A – levels can go lick a bug zapper.

This was a public service announcement brought to you by:

the magical pastie 

try to read this without music (unless you normally have music… then turn music on and try and read)

Greetings, faceless peons of the abyss

I was at work the other day at the wonderfully glamorous establishment of J.D. wetherspoons, lymington, clearing plates of microwaved pre-heated food into a bin full of other microwaved, pre-heated food and generally being anyone who was sat a tables bitch when it suddenly struck me how damn quiet the damn place was, i’m used to the place being really noisy and, ya know, generally like a wetherspoons bar, but today was different. Despite the place being nearly full there was only a light buzz of conversation, no shouting, no laughter, and no drunken singing (much to everyone’s disappointment) and i realized just how uncomfortable i was with the lack of noise. I mentioned this to another woman who was on shift and a fair bit more senior to me, and she said that she loved nothing more than when the bar was all quiet and dull like this, which prompted an interesting and useless debate in my head which i will share with you all right now. The question was this: why the hell do teenagers always need noise?

and i came up with many fascinating and obscure tangents involving evolution and awkward, drunken love children of two psychological theories which were never supposed to be mixed, but they are simply too crazy to shoot in to the ether willy – nilly, so i will tell you the one which makes some kind of sense to most people ( i hope)

The idea was that we have been brought up with permanent noise, not necessarily talk but music, or traffic outside, or the tv or the almost tangibly grey drone which politicians emit on a daily basis … the list goes on forever as to what noises we hear throughout the day, and this is why, when we are actually in a place which isn’t constantly feeding our ear holes with useless sound, we feel like it is quiet. To quiet, almost any situation these days can be turned awkward or just straight up eerie by a lack of sounds, and hence the title.

For people who do always have music on to break the silence (such as myself (in case anyone was wondering the current song is: the bitch that stole my wife, by chancery blame and the gadjo club, i can strongly recommend)) then you will have noticed by now the inherent sense of discomfort gained from the lack of usual stimulus to your ears. And people who don’t need music to function when alone, i am simply curious to see if you have the same reaction, but in reverse YES, YOU HAVE BEEN MY UN KNOWING LAB RATS ALL ALONG MWAHHAHAHA… ahem… anyway, if you do feel the same, go ahead and comment, go on, humour me.

Love and Kisses from the land where the sun never shines (England)

The magical Pastie x